“Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.” Have
I used that one before? Why yes, I believe

so. Just now two drunk girls stumbled past me. It
would have been easy for me to hit on them,

but what’s the point? There’s only one girl I want.
She’s the reason none of my relationships

have worked. Well … technically that’s not true.
It’s always been my fault. My flaws are many.

I am awful to live with. Bad habits die,
but they die hard … and with a vengeance. Ha ha

ha, Bruce Willis. That completes the Trilogy.
I’m not counting the other … how many are

there? I’ve lost count. Sorry … those films aren’t good.
Neither is the one I want. She’s a goddamned

Blue Devil. She went to Duke. She cheered when that
damnable J.J. Redick failed to win a

title. Oops. At least he can shoot free throws, right?
My buddy Yimmy Keith in Toledo is

or was a huge fan of Adam Morrison.
That old Carolina friend of mine? I knew

she knew him. They played golf together, I think.
When Yim learned I knew someone who knew Adam

he asked if I could score him an autograph.
I replied, “No man. I don’t want to bother

her. She’s so high above me she’s Mount Everest.”
Like that Krakauer novel, he replied. I

sighed … Yimmy and his fucking Krakauer. He
was the one who told me about Into the

Wild, starring the modern Brando, Emile
Hirsch, not to be confused with the Jewish man

from the TV show Taxi and the movie
Independence Day. Man … how great is Jeff Gold-

blum? I fucking love that dude. Chaos theory.
Here blondie, let me see your hand. I have a

cup of water that will come into play like
in The Golden Child. Never a drop was

spilled, right? The water just shook and trembled like
jello. Like pudding. Like poor Bill Cosby. Who

knows what’s true and what’s not? Cash rules everything
around me. Get the money. Dollar-dollar.

The water on the dashboard of the Explor-
-er shook like double d’s, ok? Is that what

you want to hear? Big giant breasts and slim waists.
Now that you’re paying attention again, I’d

like to wax poetic and tell you some more
shit about the day I was asked to be a

go-between for Yim and Adam Morrison.
“Yimmy,” I said, clasping him warmly on the

right shoulder like a friendly lumberjack. “That
woman down there? She’s untouchable like Sean

Connery and Kevin Costner in that film
about cops and robbers. Al Capone. I sat

in his car at my cousin Kate’s wedding. Hey
Kate, Mozeltov. Hope your life is going great.

Back to that day … it was so long ago I
can’t remember the year, but I made it clear

to my friend that I couldn’t violate the
tiny bit of trust I’d hoped to win, moving

her to my top five most favorite people
the way John Cusack did in High Fidelity.

I love that movie. Jack Black’s best line, at least
to me, is while a customer is flipping

through a stack of records, incredulous Jack
spits, “You don’t have it? That’s perverse. Do not tell

anyone you don’t own fucking Blonde on Blonde.”
holds up Bob Dylan album and takes deep breath

“It’s going to be ok.” Then he hugs him
like a weirdo. Because Jack Black is weird. So?

I quote John Cusack as Rob Gordon: “I will
now sell five copies of the three E.P.s by

the Beta Band.” This is the end of this one.
Good night, everyone. And have a pleasant…


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