part III

we talked for the better part of the morning, walking through the rainy streets of beijing, passing a bottle of half-rancid saki that we found in a dumpster near the american embassy back and forth... he told his stories (chasing a shaman from ft. worth to the jungles of southern ecuador after getting burned on bunk yage, trying to convince the secret service he was spiro agnew's illegitimate son, etc.) and i told mine... and slowly, over this time, i realized how special this guy really was.

and still is. happy birthday, ian...

NOTE: The preceding posts are works of alcohol and marijuana-inspired fiction and do not necessarily represent the opinions of GWP, The People's Republic of China, PETA, Alcoholics Anonymous, Ike and Tina Turner, the corpse of Josef Stalin, Xiang Hoa Porcelain Company, the International Brotherhood of Village Witchdoctors Local #193, the Republican National Committee, the City of Otumwa, Iowa, or the endangered species of panda bears worldwide. No Chinese bathhouse attendants were harmed in the production of this blog. All work copyrighted 2004 by GWP, Inc. All rights reserved. E Pluribus Unum. Goodnight, thanks for reading and God Bless America.