How Much Is The Dildo In The Window?
by Jim Karger
Dollar Vigilante
I am sitting in traffic, stopped dead still on I-35 South, going from Dallas to Laredo, Texas, where I will cross the border into Mexico at about five tomorrow morning headed for home. I have my left hand on the wheel while I type with my right hand. A 1.75 ml Bombay Sapphire Gin bottle, nearly full, sits comfortably between my legs for use in case of an emergency, one I sense could present itself at any moment. I am ready to travel, but going nowhere, an apt metaphor for this screed. In the spirit of Jack Kerouac, I will write this as it happens, stream of consciousness, with occasional hideous reflections.
Since I arrived in America five days ago, I have experienced a progressive loss of self-control. After writing the Twinkie piece for TDV and shipping it off to my editor, Redmond Weissenberger an evil drunk with a heart of gold who graciously continues to post my ramblings, I have been sliding, surely but elegantly, toward the abyss. My degradation has been rapid, disturbing, but mostly noticeable.
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2012-11-27 03:21:00
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