Monday, September 29, 2008

The Bad Times

My grandpa threw in the towel out of general malaise and depression three years ago; I almost wish he'd lived to see us all teetering on the brink of economic collapse, as the Bad Times was the apocalyptic vision with which in mind he built his compound of sheds, deep freezes, buried gold and guns.

Slim has been talking since our first date about laying in rice and bottled water. GK4, former fiance, is the only one I know who has an actual shotgun.

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