So I sat down to write to you in a brief sunny spot I saw in the common room of the hostel I’m staying at. I sat down, and some old New Yorker guy walked right up to me and plugged BOTH of his phones into my outlet. So I got up, moved to a table to suckle some sweet electric milk from a pole. The table’s chairs are comically tall, so I find myself hunched over my writing apparatus with a cactus pretending to be a centerpiece and wobbling every time I type a word.

Good morning from San Francisco.

In the process of typing that out. The old man came back from whatever back alley he slank…slunk…slinked? off to, took his phones and left. So now I feel ridiculous hunching here like a bird on a perch.

I didn’t realize where this place was, so now I’m looking out the window at the Golden Gate Bridge which I just realized I paid five dollars to get across last night. I didn’t want to go around, but I don’t think it was worth five bucks.

Apollo, my trusty steed, is trying to have heating problems again. I swear that I’m cursed to never have a vehicle that reliably works. Even in Vietnam, my motorbike was the only one that ever just flat stopped for what seemed like no reason. Some people project anti-computer rays, I must cause simple mechanics to break down. Come find me and join me when the robot uprising starts…as long as they don’t get too much more advanced.

I like San Francisco as a concept much more than actually being here. It’s a city of freaks…in some spots. It’s also a city of tourists, a city of tech-lords, a city of people too stylish for their own good, and a city of homeless. No one who works here lives here, because if they could afford to live here they don’t work where you can see them. I have a couple friends here, but I don’t have time to say hi this time. So I find myself flying south like a goose that slept in for a month. I’ll have to do the same to LA. Assuming I don’t melt my car between hither and yon I should be in Arizona tonight where I’ll either have to seek shelter mid-state or push on through to home. There to begin Operation Pull Up the Ladder.

So me sitting here and typing out this post to you is burning time I do not have. Therefore money I don’t have. And therefore ice cream I don’t have.

Stay frosty out there, it’s heating up. My world’s on fire, how about yours?

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