Rest

[rejectomorph]

When I stepped out my back door a few minutes ago and inhaled some fresh, cool night air, I smelled the scents of sandalwood and patchouli. As I'm certain that none of my feral cats are using scent or burning incense I am now loath to shine my light into the darkness of the back yard for fear that some thuggish frat boys from Chico have tossed a dead hippie over my fence. I hate when that happens.

Yes, I woke up too early today and didn't get a nap this afternoon. I should probably try to get some sleep.

Comments

[leprosy.livejournal.com]

It could be worse. It might have been a live hippie.

[rejectomorph]

A live hippie is not really worse. At least you don't have to dig a hole and bury a live hippie. You just tell them the Dead are playing a free concert, point them toward the nearest park, and they wander off on their own.

It's moot in any case. Light of day revealed no hippie, live or dead, in my yard. Maybe I was just visited by Jerry Garcia's ghost.