420

  Hank Williams III sings to me from my laptop about growing up quick and hard, traveling the country with empty pockets and worn out boots, half killing himself with substances used to hide from loves ghost.
 
 The music suits the gray sky Saturday as I sit here wiggling a loose canine. The early morning jones has already began and I can't afford cigarettes, let alone meth. I haven't had a blast in what feels like forever, though its probably only been about a week.

 A rotten tooth in the back seems to be have caused an infection under my canine which likely lead to both the looseness and the pain. I need to get my sorry ass to CU med and have the dental students cut the mother fucker out before my canine falls out.

 I've always had very prominent canines, giving me a sort of vampire like smile which women seem to find one of my more appealing physical characteristics, so I'd like to preserve it if possible. With no wheels though my dental problems will have to wait a little while for a solution.

 There's four aluminum rims in the back yard my cousin Jimmy said I could scrap, last I knew they were about $20 a piece, but cutting the tire off is a pain in the ass and I have no way to get them there besides making a couple trips on foot to the crusher. I could call Porky but he'll most likely try and talk me out of either the rims if they'll fit on his truck or half the loot if they won't.

 Hard to believe back in December I was flippin a quarter ounce of speed and an ounce of pot every fucking day, walking around with a roll of twenty dollar bills as thick as a phonebook. I have all the connections here but no customers or cash to get started, which makes my hookups useless.

 Its 4/20, I should go to the capitol today for the big smoke out. I was born in Denver but I've never been to 420 fest. I hate crowds though so I'll probably either sit here playing guitar or walk my ass over to see pork and the fat man and hope they'll get me high.