Phish radio is cool. So then I remembered my flu and had some more OJ. Not that it would get me better but, "It might prevent a worsening condition," I thought to myself. "It could not hurt!" Then I got a goo ball from a girl who might have been named Victoria.

I always ask the goo ball girls if their balls are the best. They always come up with some obscure strain of dank flora that I know no sane concoctor would mix up with some butter, batter and peddle to a bantering banterer. I also know that pastry chef's are seldom sane (read: Legendary Leroi, DirtyB, ScaryM, Wendell..) Then I assess the sincerity of the ball weilder and get two: One for me, One for me later. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

This baller was from no where near anywhere I have ever lived, but we still had a chat about all three places. I was interested in visiting such a place but found myself in a fourth geographica which definitely ranked up there. Any place that doesn't smell like the Schuykill Expressway is a leap toward the promised land. I also don't mind when the stars are clearer and those city lights don't muddle the night sky.

Well it was daytime for starters and secondly, Hos decided to wear a skirt. He thought this was the most comfortable option, don't ask me where he got the garment because none of the girls were his size. Damn was it hot! get thirsty, go to the wall. Then you'll find a spigot to drink from but sip with swiftness, for the food service lads are quick to shoo the pesky humans to concessionaires to share the counterfeit ware-squares at unfair prices for melon slices or nicotine vices and gene splices. Put a cherry on top and call it French Dressing!

That's how I got this job, you see. A paranoid Frenchman named Jim showed me his robot farm where computers digitalized developing bumper crops much to the delight of corn and wheat fields everywhere. Looka me! I'm still hungry! Why you ask? By the time I got a straight answer I had already found the Meatstick Family and flirted my way to an extra beef cube. They so crazy! (this was before the Meatstick Dance that swept the nation in 1999) (so you know)

Anyway, then I saw Trey walking down College Avenue. He looked like he might have been doing some light grocery shopping. I climbed from the back seat of the Probe 2 door (my sis later crashed it (unscathed) into trees) out the driver side window and screamed a message to Trey, that I'll have you know obviously changed his entire meaning, being, purpose, mission and guitar style. Trey at the time just grinned and saluted me, immediately digesting the profundity I loudly expressed.

Then this other time Page was laughing at me during Lovin Cup. And Fishman made a drum roll for me and Trey messed with his glasses at me and liked the way I danced but Mike just didn't let on one bit. And, Brad goes to the Taproom in Reading and I talked to him about how boring he thinks Meat is. And then we went into the woods to find the Rhombus but Carrie had her feet in casts and could only stay on the trail. Turns out we were in the wrong neck of the woods, AGAIN! Boy those pins hurt when they pulled em out! OUCH!

Anyway back to the story. So this Nostradamus was all "For sure and yah," He knew nothing of where I came from; about the car and the dirt. But he thought he did for sure for sure and was so quick to shoo. JUUUST LIKE THE WATER GUY! My future is not in your balls, Kreskin. Spontaneity has no predication. I ride a bike, was that there too? Anyway, the show was good and I went home.

Editor's Note: I have no idea.  Hope this story doesn't frustrate ya'll, just figured I'd post it cause I'm a nice guy.