Pablo Escobar, Honey
05.11.06 (10:32 pm) [edit]"Been runnin' down the road, tryin' to loosen my load
Got seven women on my mind." - Jackson Browne
Somebody will get that title. At least I hope she does. I still miss her.
Been driving to the audio book of Killing Pablo by Mark Bowden. I raved about this book a couple years ago. It's a fascinating study of the Columbian drug lord, and I'm captivated by his evil exploits. As much as I despise the things he did, it's hard not to be in awe of his balls, his blatant mastery of the evil underbelly of everything vile and self-serving that fuels our human race. He makes Tony Soprano look like George McFly. I admire the motherfucker in the same breath I hate everything he was. Read the book. It's good shit.
A very nice few hours with Katie. We dropped stuff off at Bill's, ate fruit and drank grape juice in the parking lot of a Meijer's store while listening to Procul Harem, and got Mommy her Mother's Day present at Half Price Books, I dropped her back home.
Then I called one of my best friends as I bougbt gas, and he's become a father tonight. A few minutes later, the right side of the plastic thingamajob underneath my radiator fell off on I-75, and i used a liberal amount of duct tape to repair the damage. (While traffic went way too fast inches away.) Then I drove home oblivious to all but the exploits of Columbian drug lords.
I'm drunk as all hell right now. I've decided against the letter to Amanda. I'll simply give her my phone number and tell her I need to talk to her. I think she'll understand. But who the fuck knows where it will go.
I have to wake up in five and a half hours. I've got seven women on my mind. Three that...uh,...well, none of them seem to give two fucks whether I live or die, actually. FUCK Jackson Browne and The Eagles, anyway.
Terrapin Station still in the CD player,
Dougie