The Paulie Family
The Paulie Family an entry by JD himself.
This is a story of a son of a Jewish businessman that owned a string of clothing stores. Each son ran a store. I was just locking mine up. It was located downtown; in the part of town slated for re-development. The kind of place that people went upstairs to shoot-up speed. It was a hot blistering evening as I headed the BMW for Spring Valley.
I had a handful of ludes but was in dire need of some Hindu-Kush, and my Spiritual Adviser was just the person that had some. He lived on top of a hill overlooking the valley with views stretching to Mexico. Many psychedelic evenings were spent there.
His house was the last one on the block. Luke the Goose was in the yard as I pulled up. The back door was never locked. Don't know if it even had a lock. And I always let myself in.
I headed down the Kumquat painted hallway. I glanced in the bedroom on the right and there was my Spiritual Adviser, the Reverend J.D. His thin young girl friend, hot, sweaty and naked...Her--- buns up kneeling...Him---wheeling and dealing. I shook my head and continued for the living. "Hi Paul" I heard them both say, with her giggling. "Hell-ooo" I barely replied "God I need a joint."
There where several rolled joints of debris on the rolling tray sitting on the coffee table.
I fired one up. The TV was on but no sound, the Padres were getting their asses kicked by the Giants. Dan Hicks was playing on the stereo.
"How can I miss you if you won't go awayyy..."
I sucked the thick smoke deep into my lungs, slowly exhaling. Then again. And maybe once more. By the time J.D. and Nancy came into the room, the viscous scent of Hindu-Kush enveloped the house.
"Here, suck on this" I said to Nancy as I handed over the roach.
We opened a bottle of Chateau Lynch Bages, popped a pair of ludes to start off the evening.
Part Two: The making of chocolate chip cookies and what we do to a passed out spiritual adviser.
Stay tuned for part two. It gets worse (better actually in the way of more fun)
This is a story of a son of a Jewish businessman that owned a string of clothing stores. Each son ran a store. I was just locking mine up. It was located downtown; in the part of town slated for re-development. The kind of place that people went upstairs to shoot-up speed. It was a hot blistering evening as I headed the BMW for Spring Valley.
I had a handful of ludes but was in dire need of some Hindu-Kush, and my Spiritual Adviser was just the person that had some. He lived on top of a hill overlooking the valley with views stretching to Mexico. Many psychedelic evenings were spent there.
His house was the last one on the block. Luke the Goose was in the yard as I pulled up. The back door was never locked. Don't know if it even had a lock. And I always let myself in.
I headed down the Kumquat painted hallway. I glanced in the bedroom on the right and there was my Spiritual Adviser, the Reverend J.D. His thin young girl friend, hot, sweaty and naked...Her--- buns up kneeling...Him---wheeling and dealing. I shook my head and continued for the living. "Hi Paul" I heard them both say, with her giggling. "Hell-ooo" I barely replied "God I need a joint."
There where several rolled joints of debris on the rolling tray sitting on the coffee table.
I fired one up. The TV was on but no sound, the Padres were getting their asses kicked by the Giants. Dan Hicks was playing on the stereo.
"How can I miss you if you won't go awayyy..."
I sucked the thick smoke deep into my lungs, slowly exhaling. Then again. And maybe once more. By the time J.D. and Nancy came into the room, the viscous scent of Hindu-Kush enveloped the house.
"Here, suck on this" I said to Nancy as I handed over the roach.
We opened a bottle of Chateau Lynch Bages, popped a pair of ludes to start off the evening.
Part Two: The making of chocolate chip cookies and what we do to a passed out spiritual adviser.
Stay tuned for part two. It gets worse (better actually in the way of more fun)
posted by The Paulie Family at 6:41 PM
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