Mitzi, as always, looking fine. Unfortunately, she is the centre of the imperfection of nights...
Everything can go so well, there can be a perfect show, beautiful people, incredible friends, gatherings of greatness... and then some assholes had to egg, mayonaise, AND molasses Mitzi's car. And then sat on their porch and laughed at her as she called the police and they told her that they wouldn't be able to prove anything.
That's almost as bad as the ass-raping we had to go through to deal with our fucking car radio - except there are people here.... people who you wish you could hurt.
Our society is in this stupid phase right now, where the law can't cover everything, and common courtesy can't be counted on. I wish vigilantism was part of my make-up... I get so angry, wishing we could go back and do damage. $150+ damage to her car and we have faces and addresses and ... we should be able to do something about that.
Of course, having it up on my website ASSURES we can't, now doesn't it.
Just wishes, my friends, just wishes. Wishes for molotov cocktails and pain. It's not the damage so much as the laughter. I hate being laughed at, and it's been a huge part of my whole Life. Sticks and stones- but eggs deserve response ten fold.
November 5th, 2003.
Came home to an email from Jerry, my boss from Glovia International - the day-job I ran off from to go on the Trip. Just a "Hey how ya doin" (the only collection of words he could say with an approximate American accent). It was good to hear from him. I couldn't have ever hoped for better coworkers, and it's good to know that I'm
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