graceland's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Brokedown Palace There's nothing like a good session with the Dead and some grass to get you through a day that starts off with a funeral. September doesn't seem to want to be my friend much anymore. Me and couple other thousand people. Last year my uncle and now a co-worker's father. This week in September is cursed. I am convinced of that. We share our women, we share our winnneee... There is nothing that I would rather do today than belly up to my local bar, have a beer, a smoke and play "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag" on the jukebox. Sadly the my local bar is a bunch of lazy lay-abouts who don't open until last night's hangover is properly run out of town and that usually happens around 6PM. But they're my lay-abouts. Krazy Kat peeking through a lace bandana... That makes me want to dance! Why don't I listen to the Dead more frequently? I miss Jerry. Like a 9 mile skid on a 10 mile ride. Uncle Jerry and the Boys. Those were some good times. 10 Pacchouli soaked dirty hippies and a dog in a hotel room. Good Times. Ahhhh, if people had only known me then and not in my current superhero form of City Girl Gone Wild. I know you rider, gonna miss me when I'm Gone... This is weird. It's like the Pink Floyd/Wizard of Oz thing. When I start thinkin', Jerry starts singing the appropriate lyric! My God! The Only thing that would make this more astounding will be if Nostradamous had predicated it. Sugar Magnolia just skipped like it knows something. I'd better go fulfill another prophesy. 4:37 p.m. - 2003-09-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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