Hobo Jungle
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P&R Pete
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P&R Pete
India, which hangs like a wet washcloth from the towel rack of Asia, presented itself to Highrailjon as he landed in Delhi (or was it Bombay?), as if it mattered, because Highrailjon finally had an idea to make his mark and fortune and that idea was a chain of steak houses to serve the millions and he wondered, as he deplaned down the steep, shiny, steel steps, why no one had thought of it before.
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P&R Pete
It was high noon in the jungles of South India when San began to recognize that if he didn't find water for his emu soon, it wouldn't be long before he would be traveling by foot; and with the guerilla warriors fast on his heels, San was starting to regret his decision to use poultry for transportation.
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P&R Pete
Tramp gushed like a broken water main about his new love: "She's got long, beautiful, drain-clogging hair, more curves than an under-the-sink water trap, and she moves with the ease of a motorized toilet snake through a four-inch sewer line, but what she sees in me, a simple plumber, I'll never know."
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San Diegan
"Don't waste the lube! I paid good money for it" his partner cried. Phoney Gash went slackjaw as he realized another vial of the blue pills was ineffective and Spring York would be a bust unless he did something quickly. His lack of tumesence was shameful. It had been that way since he was 14 and the older girls and that monkey did the thing that changed him. He would have to fist Bitch Telvin or face the reality that the blue jacket would take another lover in the Fall.
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San Diegan
The only disco song I ever liked:
San
Ah
If there’s a cure for this
I don’t want it
Don’t want it
If there’s a remedy
I’ll run from it
From it
Think about it all the time
Never let it out of my mind
’cause I love you
I’ve got the sweetest hangover
I don’t wanna get over
Sweetest hangover
Yeah, I don’t wanna get over
I don’t wanna get
I don’t wanna get...over
Ooh, I don’t need no cure
I don’t need no cure
I don’t need no cure
Sweet lovin’
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
Sweet, sweet love
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
Don’t call a doctor
Don’t call her momma
Don’t call her preacher
No, I don’t need it
I don’t want it
Sweet love, I love you
Sweet love, need love
If there’s a cure for this
I don’t want it
I don’t want it no
If there’s a cure for this
I don’t need it
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
San
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Frank53
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