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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent?

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignment moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignment moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignment moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

Willie Fillum? Geez, ya can't beat that Diggs. Well, you know what I mean.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignment moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignment moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean"

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignment moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

The bar was dim...a slow number was playing and the girl was swaying slightly to the music yet trying not to be too conspicuous, no, conspicuos...er, conspicous...conspicious...koff, koff... noticeable. I sidled up next to her and looked deep into her eyes... the blue one as well as the black one.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

The bar was dim...a slow number was playing and the girl was swaying slightly to the music yet trying not to be too conspicuous, no, conspicuos...er, conspicous...conspicious...koff, koff... noticeable. I sidled up next to her and looked deep into her eyes... the blue one as well as the black one.

All of a sudden I felt something grab my shoulder. I slowly turned around. From the floor up, I saw a pair of black cowboy boots, size 12 I think, and continued looking up and up, and then BAM!

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

The bar was dim...a slow number was playing and the girl was swaying slightly to the music yet trying not to be too conspicuous, no, conspicuos...er, conspicous...conspicious...koff, koff... noticeable. I sidled up next to her and looked deep into her eyes... the blue one as well as the black one. "Good Lord.. you're ... a... freak !" I growled as we joined in a tango and cleared the danced floor. " Can you tolerate me ? ", she whimpered as we spun in another deadly Bolivian twirl, "You'll do ....for now ." I barked , as we finished the dance and then headed to the bar for drinks.

Joachim was a one-eyed bi-sexual midget, not to be trusted, quick with a knife or sandal, but ran a clean bar. " Two milks... straight." I muttered, and Joachaim swiftly did his bit. He didn't want trouble, but damn it ....trouble always found him.

All of a sudden I felt something grab my shoulder. I slowly turned around. From the floor up, I saw a pair of black cowboy boots, size 12 I think, and continued looking up and up, and then BAM! It was at that moment, between consciousness and oblivion , that I realized that I had once again failed to file my tax return, and under the new administration, they weren't taking 'I forgot' as an excuse anymore.

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I see Laurie and Kevin replying to this thread at the same time!

hehehe...you know levis this happens to me way to often! i think i should get an award for worst timing on replys! lol, oh well there's worse things that could happen =:P

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

The bar was dim...a slow number was playing and the girl was swaying slightly to the music yet trying not to be too conspicuous, no, conspicuos...er, conspicous...conspicious...koff, koff... noticeable. I sidled up next to her and looked deep into her eyes... the blue one as well as the black one. "Good Lord.. you're ... a... freak !" I growled as we joined in a tango and cleared the danced floor. " Can you tolerate me ? ", she whimpered as we spun in another deadly Bolivian twirl, "You'll do ....for now ." I barked , as we finished the dance and then headed to the bar for drinks.

Joachim was a one-eyed bi-sexual midget, not to be trusted, quick with a knife or sandal, but ran a clean bar. " Two milks... straight." I muttered, and Joachaim swiftly did his bit. He didn't want trouble, but damn it ....trouble always found him.

All of a sudden I felt something grab my shoulder. I slowly turned around. From the floor up, I saw a pair of black cowboy boots, size 12 I think, and continued looking up and up, and then BAM! It was at that moment, between consciousness and oblivion , that I realized that I had once again failed to file my tax return, and under the new administration, they weren't taking 'I forgot' as an excuse anymore.

After that moment of thought, I realized this dude was scarier than your common IRS guy, this dude was meaner than a junkyard dog. I was now flat on my back, and I thought I could hear Leo Sayer singing, "you make me feel like dancing" in the background.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

The bar was dim...a slow number was playing and the girl was swaying slightly to the music yet trying not to be too conspicuous, no, conspicuos...er, conspicous...conspicious...koff, koff... noticeable. I sidled up next to her and looked deep into her eyes... the blue one as well as the black one. "Good Lord.. you're ... a... freak !" I growled as we joined in a tango and cleared the danced floor. " Can you tolerate me ? ", she whimpered as we spun in another deadly Bolivian twirl, "You'll do ....for now ." I barked , as we finished the dance and then headed to the bar for drinks.

Joachim was a one-eyed bi-sexual midget, not to be trusted, quick with a knife or sandal, but ran a clean bar. " Two milks... straight." I muttered, and Joachaim swiftly did his bit. He didn't want trouble, but damn it ....trouble always found him.

All of a sudden I felt something grab my shoulder. I slowly turned around. From the floor up, I saw a pair of black cowboy boots, size 12 I think, and continued looking up and up, and then BAM! It was at that moment, between consciousness and oblivion , that I realized that I had once again failed to file my tax return, and under the new administration, they weren't taking 'I forgot' as an excuse anymore.

After that moment of thought, I realized this dude was scarier than your common IRS guy, this dude was meaner than a junkyard dog. I was now flat on my back, and I thought I could hear Leo Sayer singing, "you make me feel like dancing" in the background.

Question was, how did the IRS Terminator find me here? I realised then that I stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the other drinkers, lechers and spouse-dodgers. It was the tight, ruddy-purple complexion and the large nail stuck to the back of my head that did it..... Joachim shouted 'there's nothing to see here folks' and little Leo crooned, as I was dragged out of the bar by my slingbacks and tights yelling 'If Willie Fillum comes in, tell him I'm downtown...and bring my accountant'

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

The bar was dim...a slow number was playing and the girl was swaying slightly to the music yet trying not to be too conspicuous, no, conspicuos...er, conspicous...conspicious...koff, koff... noticeable. I sidled up next to her and looked deep into her eyes... the blue one as well as the black one. "Good Lord.. you're ... a... freak !" I growled as we joined in a tango and cleared the danced floor. " Can you tolerate me ? ", she whimpered as we spun in another deadly Bolivian twirl, "You'll do ....for now ." I barked , as we finished the dance and then headed to the bar for drinks.

Joachim was a one-eyed bi-sexual midget, not to be trusted, quick with a knife or sandal, but ran a clean bar. " Two milks... straight." I muttered, and Joachaim swiftly did his bit. He didn't want trouble, but damn it ....trouble always found him.

All of a sudden I felt something grab my shoulder. I slowly turned around. From the floor up, I saw a pair of black cowboy boots, size 12 I think, and continued looking up and up, and then BAM! It was at that moment, between consciousness and oblivion , that I realized that I had once again failed to file my tax return, and under the new administration, they weren't taking 'I forgot' as an excuse anymore.

After that moment of thought, I realized this dude was scarier than your common IRS guy, this dude was meaner than a junkyard dog. I was now flat on my back, and I thought I could hear Leo Sayer singing, "you make me feel like dancing" in the background.

Question was, how did the IRS Terminator find me here? I realised then that I stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the other drinkers, lechers and spouse-dodgers. It was the tight, ruddy-purple complexion and the large nail stuck to the back of my head that did it..... Joachim shouted 'there's nothing to see here folks' and little Leo crooned, as I was dragged out of the bar by my slingbacks and tights yelling 'If Willie Fillum comes in, tell him I'm downtown...and bring my accountant'

Just then who should appear but Willie himself. He slapped himself against that IRS guy so hard that he never knew what hit him. As the IRS guy slinked down to the pavement Willie spit right in his eye. Ahhhh, dear Willie. I should have known he'd come thru for me. He always has. Well, except for that one time at the Songfacts Christmas Party...but that's a story for another day. I was so relieved that I grabbed Willie and shook him vigorously. He always liked that. I always try to keep Willie happy. If you've got a good Willie you've got to stroke his ego often.

"Willie my man, you did it again", I said as Willie straightened up. We high fived each other and strolled cockily back into the bar.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

The bar was dim...a slow number was playing and the girl was swaying slightly to the music yet trying not to be too conspicuous, no, conspicuos...er, conspicous...conspicious...koff, koff... noticeable. I sidled up next to her and looked deep into her eyes... the blue one as well as the black one. "Good Lord.. you're ... a... freak !" I growled as we joined in a tango and cleared the danced floor. " Can you tolerate me ? ", she whimpered as we spun in another deadly Bolivian twirl, "You'll do ....for now ." I barked , as we finished the dance and then headed to the bar for drinks.

Joachim was a one-eyed bi-sexual midget, not to be trusted, quick with a knife or sandal, but ran a clean bar. " Two milks... straight." I muttered, and Joachaim swiftly did his bit. He didn't want trouble, but damn it ....trouble always found him.

All of a sudden I felt something grab my shoulder. I slowly turned around. From the floor up, I saw a pair of black cowboy boots, size 12 I think, and continued looking up and up, and then BAM! It was at that moment, between consciousness and oblivion , that I realized that I had once again failed to file my tax return, and under the new administration, they weren't taking 'I forgot' as an excuse anymore.

After that moment of thought, I realized this dude was scarier than your common IRS guy, this dude was meaner than a junkyard dog. I was now flat on my back, and I thought I could hear Leo Sayer singing, "you make me feel like dancing" in the background.

Question was, how did the IRS Terminator find me here? I realised then that I stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the other drinkers, lechers and spouse-dodgers. It was the tight, ruddy-purple complexion and the large nail stuck to the back of my head that did it..... Joachim shouted 'there's nothing to see here folks' and little Leo crooned, as I was dragged out of the bar by my slingbacks and tights yelling 'If Willie Fillum comes in, tell him I'm downtown...and bring my accountant'

Just then who should appear but Willie himself. He slapped himself against that IRS guy so hard that he never knew what hit him. As the IRS guy slinked down to the pavement Willie spit right in his eye. Ahhhh, dear Willie. I should have known he'd come thru for me. He always has. Well, except for that one time at the Songfacts Christmas Party...but that's a story for another day. I was so relieved that I grabbed Willie and shook him vigorously. He always liked that. I always try to keep Willie happy. If you've got a good Willie you've got to stroke his ego often.

"Willie my man, you did it again", I said as Willie straightened up. We high fived each other and strolled cockily back into the bar.

Willie decided he wanted to play some pool, so he headed on over to the table. I noticed the girl with one blue eye and one black eye was trying to hit on Willie. Now Willie is a cool dude and all, but sometimes he doesn't have a whole lot of common sense.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

The bar was dim...a slow number was playing and the girl was swaying slightly to the music yet trying not to be too conspicuous, no, conspicuos...er, conspicous...conspicious...koff, koff... noticeable. I sidled up next to her and looked deep into her eyes... the blue one as well as the black one. "Good Lord.. you're ... a... freak !" I growled as we joined in a tango and cleared the danced floor. " Can you tolerate me ? ", she whimpered as we spun in another deadly Bolivian twirl, "You'll do ....for now ." I barked , as we finished the dance and then headed to the bar for drinks.

Joachim was a one-eyed bi-sexual midget, not to be trusted, quick with a knife or sandal, but ran a clean bar. " Two milks... straight." I muttered, and Joachaim swiftly did his bit. He didn't want trouble, but damn it ....trouble always found him.

All of a sudden I felt something grab my shoulder. I slowly turned around. From the floor up, I saw a pair of black cowboy boots, size 12 I think, and continued looking up and up, and then BAM! It was at that moment, between consciousness and oblivion , that I realized that I had once again failed to file my tax return, and under the new administration, they weren't taking 'I forgot' as an excuse anymore.

After that moment of thought, I realized this dude was scarier than your common IRS guy, this dude was meaner than a junkyard dog. I was now flat on my back, and I thought I could hear Leo Sayer singing, "you make me feel like dancing" in the background.

Question was, how did the IRS Terminator find me here? I realised then that I stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the other drinkers, lechers and spouse-dodgers. It was the tight, ruddy-purple complexion and the large nail stuck to the back of my head that did it..... Joachim shouted 'there's nothing to see here folks' and little Leo crooned, as I was dragged out of the bar by my slingbacks and tights yelling 'If Willie Fillum comes in, tell him I'm downtown...and bring my accountant'

Just then who should appear but Willie himself. He slapped himself against that IRS guy so hard that he never knew what hit him. As the IRS guy slinked down to the pavement Willie spit right in his eye. Ahhhh, dear Willie. I should have known he'd come thru for me. He always has. Well, except for that one time at the Songfacts Christmas Party...but that's a story for another day. I was so relieved that I grabbed Willie and shook him vigorously. He always liked that. I always try to keep Willie happy. If you've got a good Willie you've got to stroke his ego often.

"Willie my man, you did it again", I said as Willie straightened up. We high fived each other and strolled cockily back into the bar.

Willie decided he wanted to play some pool, so he headed on over to the table. I noticed the girl with one blue eye and one black eye was trying to hit on Willie. Now Willie is a cool dude and all, but sometimes he doesn't have a whole lot of common sense.

The multi-coloured-eyed girl leant seductively over the pool table causing Willie to straighten, fluff his stroke and cannon the white through the air and into the lap of the biggest, hairy-ars*d biker you ever saw. Suddenly aware of his predicament, Willie shrank leaving me to sort out the mess.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

The bar was dim...a slow number was playing and the girl was swaying slightly to the music yet trying not to be too conspicuous, no, conspicuos...er, conspicous...conspicious...koff, koff... noticeable. I sidled up next to her and looked deep into her eyes... the blue one as well as the black one. "Good Lord.. you're ... a... freak !" I growled as we joined in a tango and cleared the danced floor. " Can you tolerate me ? ", she whimpered as we spun in another deadly Bolivian twirl, "You'll do ....for now ." I barked , as we finished the dance and then headed to the bar for drinks.

Joachim was a one-eyed bi-sexual midget, not to be trusted, quick with a knife or sandal, but ran a clean bar. " Two milks... straight." I muttered, and Joachaim swiftly did his bit. He didn't want trouble, but damn it ....trouble always found him.

All of a sudden I felt something grab my shoulder. I slowly turned around. From the floor up, I saw a pair of black cowboy boots, size 12 I think, and continued looking up and up, and then BAM! It was at that moment, between consciousness and oblivion , that I realized that I had once again failed to file my tax return, and under the new administration, they weren't taking 'I forgot' as an excuse anymore.

After that moment of thought, I realized this dude was scarier than your common IRS guy, this dude was meaner than a junkyard dog. I was now flat on my back, and I thought I could hear Leo Sayer singing, "you make me feel like dancing" in the background.

Question was, how did the IRS Terminator find me here? I realised then that I stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the other drinkers, lechers and spouse-dodgers. It was the tight, ruddy-purple complexion and the large nail stuck to the back of my head that did it..... Joachim shouted 'there's nothing to see here folks' and little Leo crooned, as I was dragged out of the bar by my slingbacks and tights yelling 'If Willie Fillum comes in, tell him I'm downtown...and bring my accountant'

Just then who should appear but Willie himself. He slapped himself against that IRS guy so hard that he never knew what hit him. As the IRS guy slinked down to the pavement Willie spit right in his eye. Ahhhh, dear Willie. I should have known he'd come thru for me. He always has. Well, except for that one time at the Songfacts Christmas Party...but that's a story for another day. I was so relieved that I grabbed Willie and shook him vigorously. He always liked that. I always try to keep Willie happy. If you've got a good Willie you've got to stroke his ego often.

"Willie my man, you did it again", I said as Willie straightened up. We high fived each other and strolled cockily back into the bar.

Willie decided he wanted to play some pool, so he headed on over to the table. I noticed the girl with one blue eye and one black eye was trying to hit on Willie. Now Willie is a cool dude and all, but sometimes he doesn't have a whole lot of common sense.

The multi-coloured-eyed girl leant seductively over the pool table causing Willie to straighten, fluff his stroke and cannon the white through the air and into the lap of the biggest, hairy-ars*d biker you ever saw. Suddenly aware of his predicament, Willie shrank leaving me to sort out the mess.

All of a sudden I just started singing...give me three steps, give me three steps mister, and you'll never see me no more.....A big smile appeared on the dude's face and he pointed at me and said "Dude, I love that song"....saw Skynyrd in concert years ago, man, they rawwwked". We shot the breeze for awhile, strolled over to the bar to grab another beer.

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I was totally exhausted as I entered my apartment... But I noticed my cat had passed in front of me exactly twice in the same exact positions. Almost as if the scene was rewinded. I glanced at the mirror and realised I looked like Keanu Reeves and everything around me was shades of green. The green soon turned into a red and orange swirl all around me. Was this really happening, or was it all a dream?

Then It hit me. Keanu Reeves? Why couldn't I be someone with acting talent? It was a poignent moment; cats ... colors ... Keanu Reeves !?!?! ... and I vowed never to drop L.S.D. before performing brain surgery ever again . Oh sure , it's fun, and it helps me focus, but Hell, it's so draining as the effects just go on long after I need them ... and my buddy said it's probably not in my patients' best interests ,either.

So, back to the plot. Having dismissed the possibility of a wooden acting career and not having any acid in the apartment, what to do tonight?.....I know, I'll call my old mate and slightly endowed pulling partner Willie Fillum and go weaving in some bars. Never know, some lucky lady could be making my breakfast tomorrow.

So I picked up the phone to call Willie. It rang out five times before Willie in a panting voice said "hello"

I said "Willie, are you ready to rumble?" Willie gathered himself up and replied, "let's give it a tumble. I'll meet ya down near the delta in five minutess. I'm workin' here if ya know wud I mean" Willie is a Russian immigrant who taught himself English by watching boot-leg Brando movies in the '70's and thinks it's cool to feign his speech and mannerisms, but a heavily Slavic-accented ' Brando' often draws disbelieving stares. A good enough guy, though -- saved me after a nasty run-in with some Jehovah's Witnesses who had me in a death grip after one-too-many refusals of entry to my apartment, so I figured I owed him. You know, look out for him in these mean streets.

Willie was really the least of my worries. I had to concentrate on finding just the right gal in that bar. No smoker. Not too much perfume. Not too much make-up. You know, a natural girl. As I entered I noticed one who stood out like a sore thumb. She was all dressed in black and blue. She seemed to throb to the music on the jukebox. I decided to approach her.

The bar was dim...a slow number was playing and the girl was swaying slightly to the music yet trying not to be too conspicuous, no, conspicuos...er, conspicous...conspicious...koff, koff... noticeable. I sidled up next to her and looked deep into her eyes... the blue one as well as the black one. "Good Lord.. you're ... a... freak !" I growled as we joined in a tango and cleared the danced floor. " Can you tolerate me ? ", she whimpered as we spun in another deadly Bolivian twirl, "You'll do ....for now ." I barked , as we finished the dance and then headed to the bar for drinks.

Joachim was a one-eyed bi-sexual midget, not to be trusted, quick with a knife or sandal, but ran a clean bar. " Two milks... straight." I muttered, and Joachaim swiftly did his bit. He didn't want trouble, but damn it ....trouble always found him.

All of a sudden I felt something grab my shoulder. I slowly turned around. From the floor up, I saw a pair of black cowboy boots, size 12 I think, and continued looking up and up, and then BAM! It was at that moment, between consciousness and oblivion , that I realized that I had once again failed to file my tax return, and under the new administration, they weren't taking 'I forgot' as an excuse anymore.

After that moment of thought, I realized this dude was scarier than your common IRS guy, this dude was meaner than a junkyard dog. I was now flat on my back, and I thought I could hear Leo Sayer singing, "you make me feel like dancing" in the background.

Question was, how did the IRS Terminator find me here? I realised then that I stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the other drinkers, lechers and spouse-dodgers. It was the tight, ruddy-purple complexion and the large nail stuck to the back of my head that did it..... Joachim shouted 'there's nothing to see here folks' and little Leo crooned, as I was dragged out of the bar by my slingbacks and tights yelling 'If Willie Fillum comes in, tell him I'm downtown...and bring my accountant'

Just then who should appear but Willie himself. He slapped himself against that IRS guy so hard that he never knew what hit him. As the IRS guy slinked down to the pavement Willie spit right in his eye. Ahhhh, dear Willie. I should have known he'd come thru for me. He always has. Well, except for that one time at the Songfacts Christmas Party...but that's a story for another day. I was so relieved that I grabbed Willie and shook him vigorously. He always liked that. I always try to keep Willie happy. If you've got a good Willie you've got to stroke his ego often.

"Willie my man, you did it again", I said as Willie straightened up. We high fived each other and strolled cockily back into the bar.

Willie decided he wanted to play some pool, so he headed on over to the table. I noticed the girl with one blue eye and one black eye was trying to hit on Willie. Now Willie is a cool dude and all, but sometimes he doesn't have a whole lot of common sense.

The multi-coloured-eyed girl leant seductively over the pool table causing Willie to straighten, fluff his stroke and cannon the white through the air and into the lap of the biggest, hairy-ars*d biker you ever saw. Suddenly aware of his predicament, Willie shrank leaving me to sort out the mess.

All of a sudden I just started singing...give me three steps, give me three steps mister, and you'll never see me no more.....A big smile appeared on the dude's face and he pointed at me and said "Dude, I love that song"....saw Skynyrd in concert years ago, man, they rawwwked". We shot the breeze for awhile, strolled over to the bar to grab another beer.

As we chewed the fat I saw from the corner of my a blonde chic sitting at the end of the bar pasting stamps into an album. She was an earthy looking girl with glasses. When the bartender asked what she wanted to drink she kind of snorted a laugh and said "make mine a tonic, grenadine and ginger with a twist of papaya and one of those nice umbrellas." "Oh man", I thought to myself. "I know that girl." I excused myself and headed over to her.

"Hi Babe, Haven't we met before? What's your sign?" I grinned.

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