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The McIntire Conspiracy
"It's better to be loved by the righteous few than to be liked by a lukewarm many."
- Noble
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Friday, May 28, 2004
My Civilized Veneer Crumbles
At 1:21 a.m. this morning, I found myself peeing on a junction box outside a strip club in the middle of an oil refinery in Everett, listening to Tim Kaelin complain, "Goddammit! I wish this place was open. They have the ugliest girls!"
Then we loaded back into his car of indeterminate make and took a long, looping route back to my house. Kaelin turned off the car.
"Got any beer in there?" he asked.
"Nope," I said. "I think I have some Sambuca, though."
"Fuck you," he snarled as he turned the ignition and lit up a Paliament. "You should keep some beer in the house."
Then he was off, and I walked through the back door and heard the gentle whirring of the VCR, and it dawned on me that I was getting home too late to make sure that the TV was turned to the right channel - the channel specified in the very clear instructions my wife had left me - and that instead of Morrissey's performance on the Craig Kilborn show, she was in all likelihood getting an hour of whatever the hell Noggin shows at 12:30 at night.
Morning came too soon, and I have one of those very low-guage beer hangovers, a bona fide head full of zombies. No one in at the day job, thank Christ, so I can plot Kaelin's assassination in peace.
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