|Nothing has happened thus far; we play our first show tonight. Andy says though he loves Missoula, playing here is wierd and he's looking forward to getting the fuck out of here. I would agree with him, though it's hard to say exactly why it's so odd to play... It's hard to think of it as just another show, but really it's no big deal at all, oh there's just too much to think about. Get me to Beloit where no one gives a fuck.
Spent yesterday driving. Argued about whether or not hippies are filthy -- I, being the only hippy of the group, and insulted by such remarks, had the last word: filthy hippies are filthy. And speaking of filthy hippies, I got drunk as hell last night (after losing $40.00 in keno at the 24-hour filthy & charming brains-on-the-menu Oxford Cafe) at Charlie B's, which was crawling with filthy drunk hippies & their dogs. I tried to hit on the filthy hippiesí girlfriends & was repeatedly rebuffed, & being drunk as hell on local bourbon, I accused one of the bigger hippies of being filthy. He shouted something to one of the bigger dogs, which latched onto my ankle & wouldn't let go until I told the hippy that he smelled like a peach.
Bought some sunglasses at the Bon today and begged the salesgirl to come to the show. If there's not at least one person there, I'm never coming back to Missoula again, except to get drunk.
Andy & James have joined me. Andy's looking for a smoking room to tryout his cheap cigars -- cigars have taken Missoula by storm along with the rest of America.
It's cloudy & cold here & it may snow. If my Irises bloom before I get home I'm gonna cry.
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