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JULY 2, 2020
Cruising down Sorrento Road this morning, toking on a number of Viet Cong Tiger Fuck and jamming to some Foo Fighters on the old CD player, I was winding the old girl up on a weirdly quiet stretch of road and heading for some caffeine at Mojo's to help kill the crippling hangover I had as a result of boozing with "Ace" reporter Luther Heggs all day yesterday.
I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket.
"Shit!" Was the only thing I could think of when I saw who was calling. The caller was the last person that I wanted to talk to right now.
"What's up, Scoop?" I sighed as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders.
"Goat! I gotta get on the next train out of Dodge."
"You been boozing and watching John Wayne movies again, Luther?" I knew that he had been boozing - that's like a 99.5% guarantee. No one would cover that bet in Vegas.
"The Commissar of Perdido Key totally lost his shit yesterday after the PNJ reported that there were only 3 ICU beds left in the area. He tore the rest of the BOCC a new asshole when they tried to contradict him. I guess a couple of County Commissioners were actually weeping in those big leather chairs."
I pulled into a parking spot in front of Mojo's.
"So fucking what. Everybody with an IQ about 70 in this area knows that they're nothing but five gutless geeks who are slaves to the tourism industry but could give two hot shits about the local community. And don't forget, get paid 80 large a year to do it. Is that what you called me about?"
"Ghislaine Maxwell got arrested this morning!"
"What the hell are babbling about, you old lush?"
"Ghislaine Maxwell is Jeffrey Epstein's girlfriend."
"I know that, dickweed! And what in the hell does that have to do with you, or me for that matter?"
"The Commissar was really pissed about that article that Jim Little wrote. The Commissar said that it was "journalistic malpractice" and that reporters are "creating hysteria."
"Luther! Get a hold of yourself. You sound fucking hysterical. Smoke a joint, drink a beer, and pop a 'Lude. You'll feel better when you wake up. I think you may have a slight case of the DTs."
"Goat! You don't understand. The Commissar is royally pissed at all reporters. He wants our asses tarred and feathered and road out on a rail!"
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"And he has a Ron Jeremy (also recently arrested) sized hard on for me ever since that time I reported that he got all jacked up the night he won the election on Booty Sweat and Bust-A-Nut bars and a neighbor said that he might have run over a Perdido Key beach mouse."
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"Scoop, I don't know what or how this all ties together but I think you might have ingested a few too many chemicals in the last couple days. You sound paranoid as a son of a bitch. Get some sleep, Luther."
"I'm splitting, man. I''m packing a grip and heading for L. A. The Commissar is boiling hot pissed at all reporters. With my record they could have me picked up on a technicality and I'll be swinging like Jeffrey Epstein by morning in Escambia County Jail."
MAHALO
kathang-isip
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