…or maybe it doesn’t matter, but I realize NFTD spends an inordinate amount of time retelling a life of drunken, drugged-out behavior, although in fairness to me it is history, I no longer am a drunk...basically we’re talking 30 years ago in the halcyon days of my errant youth which I sometimes update so as to appear au courant…and I don’t do drugs, although I will drink a beer now and again and smoke a bone…
…mostly it – Subterranea, my pet name for the nether world - is where I lived for much of my life so tales from then I must recount because it’s all there is to recount…sleeping in rat-infested alleys covered with lice & eating from a dumpster was sort of the anti-acme in the nether world…being homeless was the pits and I love having a roof over my head so much now that I rarely leave it…I pass these sordid seamy tales along in the hope you’ll avoid that particular path on your trek through life, but you may not, the rebel in us is compelling, the voice of experience instead of being heeded may instead provoke, ‘O yeah! Well you just watch me…I’ll show you how it’s done…’ Well, have at it…
…plus, in truth it must be told, despite being in the aggregate sad, there were some very funny times, many poignant moments, and there was also fear & dread - along the Highway to Hell are strewn a wide panoply of emotions and experiences - ’…keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the wheel…’
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