Sat around smoking more hash, and a bong-load of mushroom dust.(Yes it works. Nothing worse than anal-retentive stoners)

My future roomie came over. He was in the band at the fifteenth street tavern. The other two in the band had a hit single in the eighties, bought a house, and quit the racket. He had a close encounter of the white kind. Did some of the bad stuff. Twice. I'm a bad boy, I guess. Somebody tell them to stop feeding me that shit.

I was really wired by the time I left for the jam. Took my baby- a chrome bodied steel guitar chunk of heaven if heaven is made from guitars. And I think it is.

Had an awesome jam. Unveiled a bunch of new licks. Sounded great.

Went to the P/S lounge. Scripted a play. Gave Joe the right lines to hit this dude up for nugs. Sometimes I can script the play like a quaterback, but don't have the mojo myself.

(Like back home, at 3:00 after the bar, at a greasy spoon. Told my buddy to have the waitress send these girls a couple of glasses of water, and to tell them it was on him.

He did. It worked. Think he had a casual thing with one of them for a while. But I knew, that if I did that, it probably wouldn't work. Go figure. )

At least I know when I don't have the right mojo for the right play. Maybe its just laziness.

So we went home, and smoked more hash to ration out the weed. Kind of assed backwards, if you ask me. And by the bye, the best way to smoke hash is with a one-hitter.