Thoughts On a Train Part 4

I have taken a lot of morphine. Like, just a shit tonne. A metric shit tonne.

The woman across from me has a massive phone cover that is shaped like a frog crossed with a watermelon and it is fabulous.

Maybe it is a bear and a watermelon. There is definitely a watermelon in there somewhere.

There is a blonde young woman who looks remarkably like my cousin, Siobhan. Wait no she doesn’t, I take it back.

How did all these stations get their names and more importantly, do I seem high to other people right now?

Plus side, pain has subsided.

There must be some way to convince John Connolly to come to Canada. I know he said he really needed to be invited by a festival, but Wordfest is already starting and I simply cannot wait a year to find out if Sam is the reincarnated fallen angel. If he goes to somewhere in Montana, I will go for a road trip and demand answers in a polite way that only an enthusiastic Canadian fan can.

I have new ass kicking boots for the season. They are also good for crunching leaves. Crunching leaves and kicking ass. That will be my new motto.

Priorities with the leaves.

Argh, sciatica pain! What fresh hell is this and why is it in my right leg? Dear sweet Jesus!

I love it when there are blue skies over the prairies. It makes out endless fields and foothills seem that much more rolling.

This train is very clean. It is either new and not yet sullied by the sticky fingers of children and perverts, or they just cleaned it. Doesn’t even smell. Very suspicious.

One day I will buy and or hire a billboard and put a large image of a kitten on it. Just a kitten, doing kitten things. No caption, no advertising. Just a goddamned adorable kitten.

Holy shit the guy next to me has a baseball cap covered in buttons! Where did he get those buttons? How do I get buttons just like those? I would ask him but he looks like he might also think he is a vampire.

Although he is out in the daytime…

My music just changed to classic Final Fantasy fight music, 16-bit style. I feel like I need to fight him now, just out of principle.

My morphine is like casting Regain 3 on myself.

Are the people in that condo weirded out that they live so close to a second hand car dealership where they approve everyone?

I wonder if they would approve me, or if I would be the exception to the rule. God damned bad credit.

Next stop is mine. Where does the word Chinook come from? Etymology professors, assemble!

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