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Strange adventures of G. Jon (Part deux)

Ok, so I called Mick at the no tell, motel I was staying in. Letting him know that I wasn't able to make it up there. We made plans on getting together the next day and he said he'd be OK until then.

The first thing I did after getting off the phone with him was tear apart the room.

I may b straight now, but I wasn't always. And one thing I have learned is that..

a) People do drugs in motel rooms...

And b) People leave there stash in motel rooms.

So I thought this might keep me amused for a bit. A sort of a treasure hunt. Certainly better then the TV.

First thing I did was pull out the drawers in the dresser.

The first thing I saw was baking powder, a spoon, and aluminum foil.

Damn I'm good.

Somewhere else I found a dime bag of pot which I flushed down the fucking toilet, thinking about how pissed off some hippy would be at me.

After making the world a little more drug free I went to sleep.

When I woke up, I had to walk a thousand miles back to the damn garage. I got a ride to the motel the night before, but this time I was on my own. As I was getting close, I saw my car in the distance with the spare tire on!

I almost got excited, but then I remember that I was in no position to be happy about anything. They just took the damn tire off my car, and I probably have to pay them a billion dollars for it. Not to mntion I still have to get 2 new front tires. Hardly a victory.

As I was walking in the place, 2 guys who looked like they were right out of the movie Deliverance greeted me with "AY! Is dat' your cah'?" I said "No, that is my car." He started smiling at me like I was some joke. God, I couldn't wait to get out of Wusta'.

So I talked to the mechanic who promptly told me that my tire was possesed my Lucifer, and they needed an exorcist to get the fucking thing off.

I asked him how much it cost.

He asked me how much I had.

I emptied my wallet and got the fuck out of dodge.

Now, onto better things. I went up to Cambride on the 4th of July with my friend Julie and met her friend Holly.

Holly is fucking ho-ho-hot.

She's got that Irish look thing going on.

Red hair, freckles all over the place. I fucking love that look.

She swears she isn't Irish at all. I told her if that's what her parents told her, then they lied.

We played around Boston, went to a cigar shop, went to a park.

At the park I showed off some old breakdancing moves that I used to do back in the day.

I can still do "the worm" like it was 1983. I had a little problem with "The windmill" and the "head spin" I almost broke my neck on.

We watched the boring fireworks from the JFK bridge.

The best part about it was watching some blimp that was obviously being driven by some idiot that was intoxicated. I mean, this blimp was flying every way except straight. Sideways, backwards....

It even flew right over where they were setting off the fireworks, forcing them to stop until the drunk idiot got the hell out of the way.

It was pretty funny.

We were also making fun of this couple that was standing on a wall, making out.

It was just so corny. Seeing this couple making out, while fireworks were shooting off in the background.

It looked like the end of some dumb movie, I had to excuse myself and go puke.

So anyways, I got the scoop from my friend Julie that she thinks I'm attractive, smart, and funny.


That's just what I want her to believe....

So I'm making the 2 hour trek up there this weekend.

For what you ask?

For love...



Do yourself a huge favor and read the new autobiography by Montley Crue called "The Dirt"

When I mention this to some people they stick up their nose to me. Like they think they're too good for this book. Fuck them. This is the best book written in my lifetime. I ain't kidding. I read a lot. How many books do I recommend here people? Huh? I do believe this is the first. You need to read this. GJ ain't letting you down.


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