Generosity 2.

Sunday 8:30 p.m.


The shop is where I bought the morning paper. Baddies in a dumper truck rammed it in an attempt to get at the treasure. They previously rammed into the garage, but to no avail. Later on, they smashed into another retail outlet. Gained no booty. Never captured. Must have been quite a night.

No dust, no powders, no pills. Hurrah! Nice bottled beer on the house and weighing in at a modest 4.2%. Back on the grass. It wasn't like going round to Sawney Bean's place after all. Positivity! Everything is great as long as you give it the old positivity! I couldn't understand what anyone was saying for about two hours, but remained conscious throughout.

I'm in a position to practise the old generosity again, but I'm not sure how to go about it. After the last time, I don't think phoning up folk and offering them free drugs is the way to go about it somehow.

Folk will just think you've flipped, Hotboy. I haven't flipped, who has, Jack?

I think maybe you should be cultivating generosity and trying to exude it a little. Not actually being generous, but feeling generous. This is bound to be cheaper and less embarassing.

I'd showered and was meditating by 8:30 this morning. No hangover. Quite bright considering. The mirrors in Ayshire make you look more handsome by far. Instead of appearing as a fat basturn, one is merely well proportioned. Like a reflection of the moon on water ... wonderful supporting conditions.