Monday Morning Commute: a life anything but prescribed


He’d been told that as long as he maintained his regimen, he’d be able to keep pressin’ them down.

The flashbacks, that is.

When he was faithful, really faithful, to the routine his doctor’d advised him to keep, they weren’t that bad. Just sort of bleaked-out, occasional billboard-spotted-through-fog-on-a-lonely-highway memories. They’d light up quick and fade away quicker, like the business end of a cigarette in a rainstorm.

A moment of unpleasantness, for sure, but a moment. Just a moment. Without doubt.

But when he strayed? When he’d decided to listen to everyone who’d told him that he’d be a fool to keep listenin’ to a doctor who’d had his license revoked? When he’d had a lapse in conviction, cavin’ into the temptation to follow the advice of the squares and mouthbreathers and so-called respectable folks who’d never condescend to put their feet in his shoes, much less walk in them?

What then?

Well, the unpleasant moments felt like minutes and hours and days. The rainstorm that’d snuff out a cigarette would become a monsoon of memory, a typhoon of nausea. The fog’d part on the highway to reveal splatter-remains, and he’d be astrally-projected back into his younger self to relive the horror over and over and over and over.

Worse than you can imagine.

So he’d taken kind to dutifully following the orders of a doctor who’d had to flee the country. Long, long walks in hot, hot heat. Lots of water. Micro-doses of LSD before viewing Mel Brooks movies. Beer — never lite — in the early afternoon. Avoid ice cream. Avoid pharmaceuticals. Weed at nite only. Daily yogurt. Weekly trips to the demolition derby.

And it’d all helped. It didn’t make him better. But it’d made him better.



Now that you’ve endured a bit of my drivel-fiction, it’s time for us to discuss what we’ll all be up to this week. I’ll start, and then you hyperspace into the comments section and share what boredom-destroying, life-improving, depression-suppressing activities you’ll be rockin’!

Let’s go!


Finishin’ THE CRYING OF LOT 49 – the first Pynchon I’ve ever read!


Watchin’ ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT: FATAL CONSEQUENCES and rememberin’ the magic of this cast!


Non-stop re-watchin’ THIS IS AMERICA and wondering about the next Gambino album.


Gettin’ flesh ritually scarred — more TATTOO stuff!


Sharin’ the gospel of PKD to as many people as possible.


That’s my week, more or less.

It’d be great if I could fit a nap in there somewhere. Or, y’know, a full night of sleep. But, of course, that’s almost as ludicrous as asking for a unicorn burger.

Anyways, what’re YOU up to these days?