July 8, 2002 New Topic: The Last Margherita (or however that's spelled!!) After just one of these high-octane fuckers mixed up & consumed in Doc Atomic's beloved (and now mine) surgical steel beeker, spelling goes out the window. Yes, here deep in the woods of Maine we are on our LAST Margerhita. We slash and burn this verdammte (German word) choongle (phonetic spelling of jungle, as pronounced by German film director Werner Herzog) and despite efforts to save our precious little ice (including burying it in the ground) we have lost the battle already, this Monday evening, just two days into our many weeks here. The ice is melting at an alarming rate such that i fear that this is The Last Margerhita. …and then to punctuate the horror of my melting ice both citronella tiki torches go dim in unison, forcing me to stop writing & fill The Goddamn Things. And i yell into the forest at no one at all, "Enough! We've got a story to write, okay? Somewhere someone important (anyone who can read) is waiting on this story! So enough with the damn interruptions already!" Where was I? Or perhaps more appropriately, where wasn't I? Suddenly anonymous Star comes to mind. Star, this robe-wearing goatee-beard-bearing old dude of Idyllwild fame, is more of a freak than i will ever be. God Bless Him. But…if (as is the reason he came to mind) he's reading this and feeling intellectually or spiritually superior, i say FUCK THE STAR. Fuck anyone with idle time & idle mind enough to sit and judge ME! Or ANYONE who DOGS anything. So therefore fuck critics of every ilk, say i. If you CAN'T DO, then you've no right to doo-doo on the work of those who do! Okay? Okay. Back to the margeritas… Well, basically that's it. In the time it was taken to gibberize all this i've drunk the best of the LAST! M., and it's on to LUKE SKYWALKER-Warm Pabst B.R. Rehearsing… Rehearsing my upcoming conversation with LORD DANNY, a.k.a., Dirty Dan, my oldest friend & currently my employer. Why? Because he left just yesterday and already i have accomplished in daylight hours the lion's share of what i came here to do. Most importantly, i am out of lumber! (And ICE!) Of course then i'm calling out of need for LUMBER. Interrupted AGAIN by…let's see, what was it this time? Oh yes, trying to call the Big D. VERY intermittent signal up there in the woods. We tried, we failed, & we were alerted to the fact that the battery was low. So? What to do at 10 PM when your cell phone battery is dying & yer deep in the woods without ICE! Why CRANK up the generator of course! YEAH!! Oh, the fucking neighbors are gonna love me now! Oh well. So the generator's running now (VERY LOUD) so i've plugged my brain-receptacles real tight with RUSH blaring LOUD enough to be heard from their native CANADA. Excellent. OH! But the way, failing a successful dialogue with Danny to have him send CASH, i've CONCOTED a backup plan! Yes, i called my Dago-Americana New Hampshire Attorney and given him his mission parameters, i.e.: Drive 250 miles ASAP to bring me ICE! Hell, i'm his best (& only) client. Thus i have every reason to believe he will hop into that Zippo-car of his , sprint up to the WOODS tomorrow tout de suite! We'll see. Let me first say that…as i continue this senseless and painful RANT, i chose to write on this page BECAUSE of the scribbled ORANGE & GREEN markings below and not despite them. No, i am in fact quite inspired by them. My first impulse was to write "Who the hell got a hold of my notepad?" But then i remembered that i GOT A HOLD of this notepad at my sister's house, and this AFTER my dear nephews Jacob and/or Matthew. So, here you have it! Early Gonzo ranting from a budding young progeny of mine…or, my sister. All hail the mighty scribble! i'm sorry but i know a good scribble when i see one. – Okay, just called Dan. Total failure. "Clear the land," he says. Great! What about my fucking ice?!!!? RSM Read the words of the author from the original manuscript! page 1 - page 2 - page 3 - page 4 — now in living color! Write Me! ©2003 Rick McKinney ALL RIGHTS RESERVED