New York City 1948


8:55 p.m.-2002-03-30

jazzed white sale

Five, count em, five seperate boners woke me in the middle of my slumber. I was ready to fuck my mattress. Extremely unfortunate there wasn't a similarily insomnia afflicted female snuggling beside me. She could have used me as a tool to no end.

So one persistent crackpot idea surfaced during my rigid sojourns.

Medicated bedsheets. Wrap yourself in the healing power of hundred percent cotton tinctured linens. Rash? Calamine lotion sheets. Been walking through tall sharp grassfields in shorts, or playing with a troth of glass shards? Neosporin sheets. Attempted to keep up with a college soccer team? Bengay sheets. One too many blunts generating egregious amounts of lung clams? Mentholated sheets.

Course I would go nuts and want methylenedioxy methylamphetamine sheets with lysergic acid diethylamide pillow cases. Manageable psychedlic levels would be adhered to and properly monitored.

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