Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Don't Panic

My Recent Adventure

Last week Goat rolls by the cage to burn one and watch some hoops on TV. Of course, he brings a fifth of some cheap nasty brown liquid that he insists we finish immediately (Goat's pretty pushy about drinking with him). As we do so, the baboon nextcage, Krosky, came over to collect the roach. He's been collecting our roaches for like six months. He says when it's ready, he'll have the biggest ming joint ever. Anyway, Krosky starts to reminisce about his old cage in the San Diego Zoo and all the women in that city. Goat's tail starts wagging and he suggests we get another bottle. I tried giving him some excuse about weekdays and hard liquor but he countered with the "you don't have a job", and I was thwarted.

We drive off, but pass the thousands of liquor stores in the hood and proceed to the highway. Goat gave me a crazy look and I knew I had been roped into some road trip mission.

We ran out of gas somewhere around Aurora, Illinois and found the local train yard. Goat knows a lot about trains from his graffiti days so after stealing food from the back door of a gas station, we loaded ourselves into a train car headed to New Mexico.

On the way I had to pummel some train bum who tried to stab Goat. It's hard to express to you readers how much shit Goat talks. And if your stuck in the same confined space with him, you'd eventually try to stab him too. I feel bad fucking up all these guys who just snap from the barrage of his antagonistic yapping, but what are you gonna do?

We finally arrive and immediately get sauced at a local shit hole bar called "Slimey Sally's". I broke the mechanical bull when I sat on it, got mad, tore it out of the ground, and threw it into somebody's window shield. I spent a day and a half in jail (including my birthday), while Goat spare changed $30 to get me out. In the holding cell I met an old black guy with a mohawk named Bernie. He owned a junk yard in town, and rambled about motors of all kinds constantly. Goat bailed me out and the cops let Bernie go too. The three of us went to Bernie's lot and he lent us an old beat up truck.

Goat and I made it to Flagstaff, Arizona before the truck died. After a few hours of just sitting there, we found three massive bricks of cocaine under the seats. We traded the coke for a ride with a bunch of bikers (of course), to San Diego. I looked like one of the worlds fattest twins riding on the biggest bike they could muster for me. Goat fit right in with that biker crowd. We ended up near San Diego, but just across the border in Mexico. Goat argued that wasn't the deal, but there were too many for me to handle so we gave up.

Two days in Mexico were bad. It's filthy, and every drug in the world is shoved in your blood stream whether you want it or not. STD's are flying all over, dirty little kids are running around in the chaotic streets collecting bottle caps for like a half-cent. It's like a party in hell that's gone on far too long. I remember sitting on a rock wall eating exotic pills that had me questioning if I could see or not. Goat scammed some American kids out of their money thinking he could get them pot. We climbed the border fence and bought bus tickets to Aurora, Illinois with the kids money. It took three days and we stole like twenty loaves of bread off the back of a delivery truck. So we survived on Butternut white bread (blagh!). Goat found a thug woman on the bus with six-inch colorful finger nails and red "stentions", who showed interest in him. She was from upstate New York and he almost went with her. I tried coaxing him into it, but he won't get over the last one. I think it's self imposed torture, he likes it for some reason.

We found Goat's van in Illinois, stole a tank of gas and headed home. Upon our return, Krosky sparked his ming joint and I melted into the stack of hay in my cage. I'm still there. Big up to Bernie in New Mexico, you're a jerk but you saved us.

Mojokong the Abducted