15 June 2004


I can't take a shower until Ray the Mailman gets here and I'm naassy. Ray's supposed to be bringing my cigarette order from the Sovereign Nation of the Poospatuck. (I refuse to pay any more cigarette taxes to the State of New York and the United States of America.) Ray is a great mailman but he's been on this route for about 25 years and he knows everyone on my street. He bullshits with everyone that's outside and now that it's summer, well . . . Let's just say I expect him anytime between 3:30 and 5:00. He's gonna bullshit with me for 20 minutes when he brings my smokes too. If the case of cigarettes would fit in the mailbox, I wouldn't be in this dilemma, oy!

Anyway, I got other shit to do. I'm also going to pick up my new truck tonight so I'll say good night now. Mrs. F and I will probably head down to Robert Moses State Park to break it in.

Pleasant dreams.

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