I really have been slipping lately with the remembering these very well. Last night I was in a country town and I was Andre 3000. Not me as him, not him as him. Tom Sawyer as him. Yeah, straw hat, short pants, raggedy shirt and all. I was running from some house down a dirt road and some goon in a trans am pulls in front of me all Dukes-of-Hazard style. Like when hockey players screech and shoot ice chips in the air except there were tons of wood chips. When he got out, I think it was someone I knew but was scared of. I ran through a stone house with no roof into a woods of dead trees with no leaves. There was bluegrass chase music playing too. I don't remember much else but taking a nap at my grandma's house.
Lame memory = blog stock plummet.
1 comment:
I still love you.
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