I awaken about noon and go out to get the mail in my old torn bathrobe. I`m hung over hair down in my eyes barefoot gingerly walking on the small sharp rocks in my path still afraid of pain behind my four-day beard. the young housewife next door shakes a rug out of her window and sees me: "hello, Hank!" god damn! it`s almost like being shot in the ass with a .22 "hello," I say gathering up my Visa card bill, my Penny saver coupons, a Dept. of Water and Power past-due notice, a letter from the mortgage people plus a demand from the Weed Abatement Department giving me 30 days to clean up my act. I mince back again over the small sharp rocks thinking, maybe I`d better write something tonight, they all seem to be closing in. there`s only one way to handle those motherfuckers. the night harness races will have to wait.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
The script ran 0.001 seconds.
