Joey and I are drunk as fuck. It turns out that you can barely taste the vodka when it mixes with kombucha, and the more vodka you drink, the better tasting the kombucha gets. We’ve gone through three bottles of kombucha and an entire bottle of vodka. It’s an alert drunkenness, but it feels like…
Read more
“Well Sam, I guess there isn’t anyone here,” Joey says then points over to the cell and says: “Jesus man. Were you locked up in there?” “I don’t know, but I plan on finding out. I’m going to stay here until someone comes back.” “Wow. You’re one crazy fucker. Well, I’m going to stay right…
Read more
Tulsa runs to the front door and begins barking, fiercely. It’s the kind of end of the world bark that a dog does when she’s giving up her life for you. There are mean snarls, growls, and the occasional crying yelp. I want to wait for the whoever has come in, wait around the corner,…
Read more
The shower curtain reveals nothing. Nobody is in the bathroom. I turn the knob on the bedroom door then quickly kick it open, turn on the light, and jump inside brandishing the large butcher knife, nobody. I check the closet, nobody. There is simply nobody in this cabin. The dog looks a little worried for…
Read more
The dog’s name is Tulsa. I know this dog. I must know her really well. She starts walking at a fast pace away from me then barking and coming back. She does this a few times, obviously wanting me to come with her. I follow her, down the path, through some trees and toward a…
Read more
I feel a surprising amount of courage, coupled with a complete lack of anxiety. I walk toward the barking dog, but he’s so much louder now. The barks are loud, but they don’t seem angry. They seem desperate. The dog starts howling, a deep sad dog cry. The dog looks to be a black lab,…
Read more
I don’t feel high, which is probably a good thing, considering I’m in a forest where someone tried to kill me, and I’m with a complete stranger, who I haven’t been able to completely rule out as involved with my attempted murder. “Why am I not high?” I ask Joey. “Huh?” “I smoked most of…
Read more
We get out of the truck and cross the highway. It’s technically a highway, but it’s still a country road. Joey rubs his belly a bit, points to the ground, and says: “I think you were about there when I found you.” “You didn’t see a phone or a wallet nearby though, did you?” I…
Read more
Joey is driving out of the city, out of the suburbs, and into the country. He lights up a joint, takes a couple of puffs and hands it to me. While I’m vehemently against smoking and driving, I do have a very good and longstanding relationship with marijuana. While I don’t want to encourage Joey’s…
Read more
A man pulls up in a red truck. Red truck. I remember a red truck. Was it this truck? It has a bumper sticker which reads “Rednecks for Change.” The man parks the truck and gets out. He has a shaved head with a brown and grey beard, the wiry kind. The kind of facial…
Read more