The Lizards are Wallowing
They wallow, like ancient dinosaurs at the watering hole in the ever-drying Serengeti plains. Huge bellies stuffed into slacks that are belted AND with suspenders. Two things that probably drive me the most insane about old dudes are pants that have a belt and suspenders and guys who walk around with both hands clasped behind their back. I find these practices particularly loathsome as the perpetrators remind one of the castoffs from a Nixon Now! convention.
They wander aimlessly, usually destroying all in their path, oblivious to all others who may wish to shop where they strafed and destroyed. Hair disheveled, fingers gnarled, nails untrimmed, 3-day stubble which looks for all the world like a goat's ass poking out from their chin. If indeed, they buy anything, it is accompanied by a grumbling bitch about the state of the world and recorded music. Reaching into the pockets of their multi-stained britches, they throw a few weathered bills at you. If change is needed, an old ziplock is produced filled with greasy, filthy coins.
This is the stuff of fevered dreams after 35+ years of retail, in one form or another.
Why post now after so many years of absence? Well, for one thing, there are few if any recreational drugs in my life, not by choice but by the reality of an old man with no connections. Forty years ago, no problem. Nowadays, what with COPD and the overall titanic strength of 21st-century marijuana strains I have a tough time dealing. Edibles are king, they do create an almost opiate-type haze that makes focusing and researching the dark recesses of my brain relatively easy.
So, what to expect? I dunno, till I score some cannabis gummy bears it's anyone's guess.
*Lizards courtesy of Ralph Steadman
They wander aimlessly, usually destroying all in their path, oblivious to all others who may wish to shop where they strafed and destroyed. Hair disheveled, fingers gnarled, nails untrimmed, 3-day stubble which looks for all the world like a goat's ass poking out from their chin. If indeed, they buy anything, it is accompanied by a grumbling bitch about the state of the world and recorded music. Reaching into the pockets of their multi-stained britches, they throw a few weathered bills at you. If change is needed, an old ziplock is produced filled with greasy, filthy coins.
This is the stuff of fevered dreams after 35+ years of retail, in one form or another.
Why post now after so many years of absence? Well, for one thing, there are few if any recreational drugs in my life, not by choice but by the reality of an old man with no connections. Forty years ago, no problem. Nowadays, what with COPD and the overall titanic strength of 21st-century marijuana strains I have a tough time dealing. Edibles are king, they do create an almost opiate-type haze that makes focusing and researching the dark recesses of my brain relatively easy.
So, what to expect? I dunno, till I score some cannabis gummy bears it's anyone's guess.
*Lizards courtesy of Ralph Steadman
