chapter 2:

i supposed i should back up a little bit. perhaps i will now. my sister is pregnant in Germany and my brother is leaving her for Iraq. that just kind of sucks. this book is for her baby.

and now that we've got that out in the open it's time to tell a story that will rock you to sleep but rock you just right. like rage against the machine rocks you. baby baby. rock me gentle. flow, ebb, karamozov me my way home. amen.

it was always strange being the new kid at south windsor high when i was still high from a life in boulder. stranger still were the woods of maine and tennessee. but i'm sure we'll tlk more about that.

just as soon as can be.

my assets in connecticut were my knowledge of NES splendor, a bag, and a buck.

and a school.

a good school, fur shure.

teach me drama bahma and also teach me Theater. teach me a litle geometry and a greenhouse but no math or science.

That's right.

teach me skipping class and smoking pot but don't teach me drinking or tobacco. Not yet. That's too hard. Plus in this society holding everything back from me was the only way for me to motivate towards anything, Fuck this capitalism thing.

fuck it right up the pink rectum hole and twist it around until the shit FINALLY pours out the mount and we make it new and make it stew with splendor. splendor and glory and pretty. I can't be pretty when my situation is so shitty.

And that's where the four friends met.