So this one time I decide to go back to being homeless in Venice. I’m walking down the beach after 2 weeks and run into my street brother, Pigpen. So he goes, “Yo we’re driving a Uhaul on festy tour, you down? You got 10 minutes.” So I get in the back of a Uhaul with a bunch of hippies, go to oakland, trip balls, get a boyfriend, go north, have madddd runins with police, go south, find out the uhaul is reported stolen, jump out, meet an awesome woman who let us stay at her house, get stranded in Redding, decide we’re going east to Michigan, talk to Patrick (the boy) father and try to get greyhound tickets there.
man this is all leaving out the shit about wingnut bitch, other drug related runins, literally running from cops, tattoos, puppies, fights, and family ive made along the way.
clubs in san fran, clubs in nudist colonies, pools, night swimming, canadian bulls, and so much more.
Fuck I live for this shit. And I finally went home.
