Last night I accidentally doubled up on the Ny-Quil and also the desk whiskey,  Ended up falling asleep fully clothed.  I dreamed I was the lead singer and keytar player for a satanic funk band called Beelzabooty.  We were on stage in the lobby of the Hotel Nelson in Tijuana, thumping our way through our latest single, Booty Juice.  The bass player, an African Canadian dude named Bro, was struggling to operate his “Beelzabong” (patent pending) that was actually built into his bass.  There was no one else in the lobby except for the desk clerk, a lugubrious middle-aged Mexican man named Jose (natch) who had seen so much human horror from that front desk during the last 20 years that he is completely unfazed by literally anything, especially some satanic funk band that’s playing in the hotel lobby for absolutely no reason except that some weird writer in California was having a self-inflicted fever dream.

That’s when I was awoken by the sound of a pair of fornicating cats outside of my open window finishing up.  The female of the pair yelled out that ghastly shriek that female cats let out whenever the male cat withdraws his feline peen.  I did not appreciate being awakened midst dream.

Did you know, dear reader, that cat penises are barbed?  Yep, they are…hence that ghastly shriek.  If you believe in God, you have to admit that making things like painfully barbed penises kind of make Him an asshole.  That, or He just really doesn’t like cats.  Cuz that’s just mean.

N.P.: “Green River” – M. Ward