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A mellowing and meandering trip through this American life. Follow the adventures of Jan, Jack, and Patrick as they take you on a whirlwind trip through Washington, DC's seedy underbelly of cut-rate poolhalls, thrift stores, and temp agencies.

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Thursday, April 15, 2004

I think I'm just going to have to give up catching up on events that occurred between entries, and write about the stuff that's fresh in my mind. I have vague recollections of bringing down the house in New Orleans with my karaoke Hey Jealousy, while Pat stood at the front of the stage and had middle-aged women stuff money down his pants (he made twenty-one dollars). Other memories include being pulled out of a public library by a cop in Baton Rouge, who was powerful suspicious about my beard and my dirty dirty clothes, and the fact that I was sprawled across the desk sleeping the sleep of the just. Like so many others before and after him, he could not understand why we had left DC or why we had come to his hometown, but he turned out to be a good guy. We got our brakes fixed in Baton Rouge, which cost me more money than I've ever spent on one thing, except perhaps the $540 speeding ticket I got in Manassas in '99. Now our coolant is leaking, but the car still seems to go. Pat lost paper rock scissors and had to drive through Texas at night, which meant he got pulled over twice in the space of about ten minutes and given a warning for having no right rear tail light. The first cops wanted to search our car, which probably would have been more unpleasant for them than for us, which may be why they demurred in the end. Two nights in Austin, with Andrew "Pip" Gordon, who took us to a hardcore show which was good because it was free. Austin is my second favourite town so far. After Austin things get hazy. I think we went to Carlsbad New Mexico next and checked out some caverns, then Santa Fe for two nights, one with this Artist named Lewis who gave us Scotch and made us Pasta, which was very friendly of him. We spent an hour or two in a Japanese Spa called 10,000 waves: Saunas, hot tubs, cold plunges, the occasional naked lady.
At the moment we're right near White Sands, and the delightful Amy Smalls has driven from Colorado to hang out. Jan left his wallet on top of the car and drove off, so he is at the police station cancelling his credit cards and getting an interim driver's license while Pat does his taxes on the internet, and Amy and I sit around. Hopefully there will be camping in White Sands tonight-- last night was a good ol' motel 6, but before that the four of us had a spectacular night of camping near Silver City. That's all I remember at the moment.

lovefromjack.

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