Sleep Like A Baby

KUMHO TIRES.... Cum Hoes? No, they're COO-MO tires. Hmm, could've fooled me.

It's that some time around 5am and I turn the corner in my car; the headlights meet with a bunny's eyes and it stops dead in its tracks on the grass. There's a public radio interview from the BBC with Martina Navratilova. Fuck...it's been a night.

Blink.

I was in the backseat of my car. Michael Bouma was driving home from the Tin Lizzie. I hear Justin say, "You're going to have to slow down soon." Meanwhile, Eddy is moving past "drunk mad" and into "drunk sad" as his feeling about Randy in the hospital started to spill out. Now we're at the stop light off of the freeway and Justin opens the car door to lean out while Eddy falls over on my arm. I look up at the rear view mirror and meet eyes with Michael. All I can do is laugh while the hazard lights go on so that the few cars that are around can drive around us.

Blink.

I think he's ok after I park in front of his house and get him out of the car. I sit back down to drive away, thinking that he'll walk to his front door, but he walks across the street and stands between two cars to piss in the gutter. I'm too tired to stop him and recline the seat for privacy---my own. When I look up, he now laying on the hood of one of the cars.

Blink.

I need to sleep.

Blink.

I read an encouraging update about Randy from Joey.

Blink.
Blink.
Blink......