Sheep's Clothing Optional

I didn't draw these bikes..

• Some Weed Matters

(These are not my own drawings of bikes)

It was much warmer last (Friday) night. 67 degrees is what the TV "said" after I had knocked off at 2 AM.

Comment

But, first to answer a comment about drawing:

Ah, yes, the bike ...the two wheels can be in all kinds of relationships to one another, given that the front wheel pivots, plus the distance from the bike will determine how much larger the than the wheel further away will the wheel closer be; he has to draw each wheel in perspective and then place them in correct relation to each other; and then has to factor in the distance from the bike where he is.

I imagine, once the wheels were done, for better or worse, the artist would adjust his aspect slightly; like(virtually)step back from or closer to the bike, and would actually draw from the perspective of where a person, standing and looking at the bike would see it as perfect as possible.

Imagine doing a drawing of a bike that has mismatching wheels...a practical joke played on any artist who would then have to put "that's what the bike looked like" somewhere on it

One more bike drawing; for the road...

30 Dollar Friday

Friday night was the "teetering on the brink of depression" night where I had overcome whatever mood was threatening to overcome me by telling myself that I would ride my bike to the corner dollar store, a half mile into my journey and would purchase a mood elevating Monster Energy (zero calorie/zero carb) drink, and then would look for David the Water Jug player, to see if he had any weed.

I was comfortable in the assumption that, since I had brought Travis, the guy who crashed at my place for 10 days, to him (David) who had turned around and conducted the business of liquidating what for that particular block is good cash, on more than one occasion that, if I were to show up it was probable that I would be able to get a toke or two off of David the Water Jug player.

And, it seemed to have worked that way. I had a dollar and change on me, and would have to drop half of that on a can of food for Harold the cat.

A skinny little joint was all mine.

David had told me that it was "nothing special, just some 'reggie'*"

I got to the Quartermaster to pick up my milk crate and further inspected what felt like a rolled up paper with nothing in it.

I thought that David had been "had" by the guy who had rolled it up for him as a favor to myself who had brought Travis into their confidence. Or that it was intended to be a practical joke.

I wound up getting 2 or 3 lung-fulls of what had a very strong, almost laundry soap-like flavor, which I have tasted in the past and had always attributed to some smuggler somewhere who hides his shit inside laundry soap boxes to fool the dogs.

I then played for 2 hours and 45 minutes.

I had started out, thinking that I had just better to enjoy myself without the benefit of weed because I had only gotten 2 or 3 pulls off the skinny joint, that David had deprecated by calling "reggie."* and I kind of did a bit of both, getting lost in the music, at one point seeing a 20 dollar bill that had materialized and having to say "thank you" to nobody in particular.

So, I concluded that, had a practical joke been played upon me, it was in actuality the fact that whatever weed was in that skinny joint was the "one pull wonder," or whatever it is that Travis has been trading in -the Travis, whom I had hooked them up with after having vetted him over the course of his stay at my place. He is the "white boy who stays at home behind a computer consuming almost a c-note of high grade weed per week who's definitely not a cop" customer of their dreams, I would imagine.

And, so, yes, I do believe that when I showed up and told David how embarrassing it was to me to have only a dollar and 66 cents on me, and that I was hoping that he had a couple pulls of weed, and then had tuned up his guitar (the storied blue one that I had given him more than 2 years ago, and that's stories were blogged about here) and then was given the skinny little joint, the shrug and apology for its slightness; was used as a means of lowering my expectations. So much better to prepare me to be ambushed by the "albeit small amount" of medicinal grade, east Afghanistan, loud, fire, Girlscout cookie, numbskull, chronic, gas, weed.

I'll have to thank David tonight if I see him, if just to let him know that I know my potions well and was appreciative of the "reggie" that he had scraped together.

And, of course, I remonstrated myself for being such a fiend as to have sought David out, looking for weed. This would be the same David whom I had grown impatient with in the past for asking me if I had any weed immediately upon encountering me on the street, every time.

Money

I made 30 dollars in 2 hours and 40 minutes of playing. This is right around 11 bucks per hour. This wage is down around 40% from what I had become "accustomed" to.

*reggie (or "Reggie") is a construction made from the word "regular," to denote your regular every day weed which is grown by the huge field lot, by people who don't have time to go through and talk to each plant. But, it also developed into the code name by which weed could be asked for, under the umbrella of "Hey, has anyone seen Reggie around?"
This was only until cops started going around asking if Reggie has made an appearance, and then arresting the individuals if he shows up.