7ish in the evening, pst. and thomas is over. we’re smoking a clear joint from a bong that is a duct taped mess…
it’s time for us to go to the kerry house and shoot some pool, drink a pitcher…a .25 cent game called erotica “phraze”
after which, we leave and go to baja and then smoke a blunt on the walk home.
thomas gets his bicycle and bounces for his phone, becky and i eat our tacos and retire to our rooms.
soon thomas will come back and we may or may not go to the starry plough.
