and I Want to Lick Your Lower Back as I Fondle Your Breast

as the early sun comes in through the venetian blinds, i sit here in my shorts and writing sweater. yes. i have a writing sweater, it's comfortable, and i like it when the edge of the sleeves get sweaty; means its working. i can't afford a robe, and a robe is typical of the early morning drinking rambling writer, a sweater is a sweater, you do exactly as it's described, you sweat. and you know it's a funny thing about rum, mostly the white rum, reminds me of my first time drinking. i was 12, it was late, somebody left a bottle of Bacardi at our house after the carne asade was all done, i sneaked the bottle into my room, flicked on the television, and drank it. warm.

and now when the rum goes down my throat, my insides fight to spit it back out, the first one of the day is the toughest, the gag reflex, the stomach muscles tightening, it's beautiful to feel, and the Dr. Pepper makes it all better.

but its too early for the Dr., so we'll settle for some coffee.

i could feel the asphalt burning through my converse, yellowish sky haze, as if there were a fire going on somewhere near, burnt wood in the air, and inhaling ash at an alarming rate. truck pulled up fast, jumped the curb, and stopped a few inches from my crotch, fuzzy dice swaying back and forth in the rear view. i didn't flinch.
out climbs the sexiest woman i've ever seen, the girl of my dreams, black hair, green eyes, big eyes, wide eyes, eyes hungry for life, soft skin with a flowing body, not emaciated hipster skinny, but full figured, Faye Dunaway, Ingrid Bergman, Scarlett Johansson. tight shirt and a black skirt, heels, always sexy heels.
i wanted to take her there against the hood of the truck, pin her down and not hear a word except for her small frail whimpers as the hood burnt her soft naked flesh and i grasped the back of her neck with my hand, squeezing with every thrust.
and... i'm hard.

"get in the back"
"huh what eh?" - i was coming out of the fantasy, and did she just say, "do me in the back?"
"get in the back of the truck"
i craned my neck around and saw someone sitting in a chair at the back. i walked over and there were two black barber shop chairs with white trim bolted to the back of the truck facing the rear. in between them were golf clubs and two shotguns, the truck bed was littered with ammunition, and is that a bottle of Chivas and Wild Turkey i see rolling around back there? hot damn!
in this moment i looked at the man, he had on a cowboy hat and aviator sunglasses with reflective lens, cigarette holder clenched tight in his teeth. i started putting things together, aviators? Chivas? Shotguns? Golf Clubs? holy shit, it was Hunter S Thompson.
hot damn!
"climb in, we're going for a ride kiddo" (he mumbled a lot during our conversations)
he put out his hand and helped me pull my weight up into the truck, settling down into the chair, i noticed my hands weren't sweaty, and i wasn't jittery, for the first time in my life, i should be nervous, but wasn't. and i shouldn't
"where we going mister?"
"Mumble mumble.. damn.. mumble.. shit...Master of the Universe.. mumble.. USC..."
i didn't ask any more questions after that. we passed the bottle of Wild Turkey back and forth as the landscape passed us by. i felt at ease for once, like if the universe took a huge sigh and let out all of it's desperation on me, the sun was bearing down, my shirt was sticking to my back and i could catch the sweet smell of the princess driving us around on the wind. orchids. she smelled like orchids.

we arrived and as we were pulling up he handed me a golf club. i would of figured the shotgun would come in more handy, considering we were at USC, but i dig his unconventionalism.
"wait for my go, if it gets weird, swing like it's your last my boy"
"aye aye"

pulling the blue tarp aside, we walked into a dingy garage that smelled like rancid milk, i coughed, and Hunter turned back at me,

"shut the fuck up!"

we came upon a small frail man, with a long goatee and many wrinkles around his eyes. i looked behind him and there was a torso, no legs, no arms, no head, just a torso with all kinds of wires coming out of it, all leading into a mass wall of medical equipment, on the floor in front of the torso were a pair of eyeballs with no pupils, and there was a mouth painted in front of them. parted ever so slightly, with teeth missing. Hunter and the small man spoke very quickly, and i didn't catch any of it, apparently the small one was interpreting for the torso, which i came to figure was the Master of the Universe, all of lifes questions could be asked and answered in the next ten minutes, god i felt so lucky.
Suddenly Hunter seemed very angry, he was mumbling at an extreme rate and pointing his finger at the small man, the small one leaned over and put Hunters finger in his mouth. i laughed a little, i laughed mostly because of how awkward the situation was, and i thought it was funny, and ballsy for this small guy to make such a bold move.
Just then, Hunter looked over at me, and without hesitation, i swung the 9 iron straight for the small mans shin, he doubled over, and Hunter kicked him between the shoulder blades.
we ran out towards the truck, laughing all the way.
"mumble mumble.. drity.. mumble prick... lying.. mumble.. brick.. mumble truth..."
"yeah man, dishonest shysters like that make me want to blow my fucking brains out."
just then we paused for a beat, he looked over at me and cracked a smile, one of those sincere smiles that somebody gives you when they've felt you've learned a thing or two about a thing or two... and i realized that this was taking place after Hunters death.. and if you don't know.. Hunter blew his brains out.. I felt ashamed for a second, like if I pissed on the Popes grave, but his smile was reassuring, like he got it.. like he understood the respect I have for him, but could laugh at the situation.

when we got back to the truck, the sexy driver was gone, i guess she didn't want to stick around for any of the fun. i climbed in and put the truck in gear, Hunter started pushing and i could see in the rear view the small man coming after us, with 3 more small men, all with Tommy Guns.
"push!"
the truck stopped, and i figured maybe they plugged Hunter, but just then his head popped into the window and he shouted at me,
"hey.. don't get all fucking weird on me.. i need you now.. hold onto yourself and we'll be okay kid"
he pulled my hat down over my eyes and slapped my shoulder
we started moving again and i drove as Hunter unloaded the shotgun towards the small men....

before i woke up.. i looked up into the rear view mirror and saw in one hand the shotgun held high in the air.... the other hand was pointed straight up.. in the shape of a fist.. a fist.... a fist with two thumbs...

pure gonzo dream