Oct. 9th, 2015

wickedflea: (don martin)
Crazy guy at the Voice of the Wetlands Festival tonight cornered me between sets and battered my brain with lunacy for fifteen minutes. Told me he used to fly pot back from Mexico until the cartel took him into a cave of dead bodies, then let him out. Quizzed me on why the dog crossed the road and how many 15/16ths were in an inch. Detailed a vast conspiracy between "Sheriff Claudet," FEMA, and the people building housing projects.

Finally, he mentioned that now he's struggling with lyme disease. "Oh, how'd you pick that up?" I asked.

"At my house in Montegut. I seen a black rat by my fireplace. Weird place for a rat to be, right? And where do you ever see a black rat?"

"Uh . . . I dunno."

"The PET STORE, MAN. You buy 'em at the pet store! So I picked up this black rat and killed it and then I went to sleep. Next morning, I got two bites. RIGHT? Somebody put them bugs with the lyme disease on a rat in my house to GET me. But here's MY question: why don't we load up a bunch of cows with them bugs and send 'em over to Iraq, RIGHT? Send 100 of those motherfuckers and it'd kill EVERY LAST ONE OF 'EM."

Guys like this, evidently, are My People, because they sure have a way of finding me. It must be God's Plan.

January 2017

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