I was making hay and raising kane! At that

I was making hay and raising kane! At that point I didn't know weather to shit or go blind, so

many mixed metaphors made me want to make like a tree, and split, which sort of worked in a lumberjack kind of way. She loved bad puns, she she parted the red sea and let me sew

what I reap. I said one in the hand is worth two in the bush. She said don't you mean burning bush? I said, where there's smoke there's fire, she said, right, burning, I have herpe

tology textbooks in my rig if you want to try to ID the critter. 'Nah' I said 'Let's just fillet this one in my hand and cook it over your campfire.' She was down so I pulled out

it sizzled and popped as it burned. It gave off a yucky sciencey smell that i couldn't stand! I was fed up with the way things were going so I decided I had to

find a way to escape. Whatever device that was supposed to be clearly wasn't functioning correctly -- and I wasn't about to stick around and be turned into some Chinese medicine.

He pulled long needles from his pouch and set them on the desk beside me. The candle smoke was pungent and the anticipation of acupuncture was frightening. My anxiety kept me

from expressing exactly what I felt in that moment. Which, for the sake of my reputation and standards of propriety, was probably for the best. "Just remember", I told myself

"No one cares and no one ever will. But this is a good excuse to burn things."