Walking down that trail over and over again. I've never seen anywhere so devoid of human life. I got lost in the desert. I caught a ride to San Bernardino with Tomato. We were gone camping. There was a bunch of us, and yeah, you guessed it, I was shitfaced drunk listening to headphones. I was sitting up on a hill, chainsmoking cigarettes chainchugging warm beers, and right then and there, I knew once and for all, I regret nothing. If I keel over and die right here on the hill in the desert, I don't regret sticking my hand up her skirt. Maybe she didn't like it, but maybe she did. So, I'll just cut to the chase: I got lost, really really lost. I think I was literally walking the wrong way for maybe 12 hours I'm guessing. The idea of sticking my hand up her skirt brought me the most comfort. There was two of us: the reasonable Tomatoes and the panicking Tomatoes. The reasonable Tomatoes told me, "Maybe if you survive all this, you'll get the opportunity to put your hand up her skirt again. Maybe just one last time. Maybe this time, there won't  be so many people in the room." "Oh fuck it, here lies a macho fucking slut. He died the way he lived. Sunburnt, drunk, horny, full of pain, and covered in grime." You take it and you leave it. I took more than I left, and now, there's nothing left to do besides laying here in the gravel and daydreaming about her panties. They had ladybugs on them I believe. I would bet one million dollars that that's the sweetest pussy on the face of the planet. I would bet another million that those are the sweetest kisses on the face of the planet. I won't live to redeem the money though. I will be validified though. She will spread those sweet, sweet kisses and sweet, sweet pussy all across the land. All in my name I'm hoping. Every time she fucks somebody, my quiet voice will be urging her to fuck him even harder. Oh yeah, you better believe it! I will be lingering way after death. Yes, it may be true, my corpse will be laying rotting in the desert. Animals will be eating me, tearing my intestines out, but my eyes will be watching her have sex, urging her to give him an enthusiastic blowjob. Why does it smell like crack in my apartment? In the future, they will have cocaine-less crack, just for people like me that just like the taste, but don't like jacking off with a limp penis for hours. Miley Cyrus was over here the other day. We did a bunch of lines of coke and I dressed her up with a plaid skirt and some knee highs and nothing else. Suffice it to say, majorly illegal shit occured. I don't  regret that either. I knew I was going to get lost in the desert. I would slice a thousand throats for just one kiss. Well, yeah, duh, When such said "just one kiss" is taking place, it's a given, she's going down on the floor with me on top of her. I didn't spend 20 hours alone in the desert for nothing. I mean, what's one act of rape after I just murdered a thousand people? I'm just kidding of course. I would never rape anybody. It makes me sad even joking about it. So, one would think I would erase that last comment. Oh fucking well. Some major fucking is about to take place. Fucking whatever. Literally. So, I saw some teenagers and they were drunk and jocks. It was the first people that I had seen in probably 8 hours. I ran up in the front of their truck, and they stopped. They had to. They would've killed me otherwise. They were all drinking beer. So, I ran over to the driver's window. "I'M LOST!!!! I'M LOST!!!! CAN Y'ALL GIVE ME A RIDE TO A PAYPHONE?!?!?" Well, they drove off laughing hysterically, much in the same way I had been doing just a few minutes prior just out of desperation and hopelessness. It's funny, I asked for it. I'm always interested in exploring loneliness. Well, not no more. Nearly everything I want eventually comes my way. Well, yeah, you better believe it. I think this was easily the most lonely I've ever felt in my whole entire life. "WELL, AT LEAST TELL ME WHICH DIRECTION TO WALK TO!" They showed me the way with multiple middle fingers. It was up by the powerlines. The powerlines: besides the trail and the jocks and their middle fingers, the only evidence of human beings that I could see. I know what they were thinking. I'm nearly psychic. They were thinking, "Fuck LA people. LA people like middle fingers. Let's make him feel at home." Maybe not in so many words, but pretty much something along those lines. Well, anyways this blog is in two parts. I'm saving some of my creative juice for part two, most probably the best part. Stay tuned to see how I'm alive to write about it.