Interpol, smoking pot, and reading Philip K. Dick

I am cliche incarnate. Last night I tried earnestly and in vain to re-read some of my favorite Phil Dick books, but failing to reach page 20 in any of them, I took a walk. This was maybe, 11 pm last night. I had had a few drinks, and was quite high, so maybe I was weaving a bit, or otherwise making myself appear to be a likely target, but the point is that a big guy on a bike was following me around. I lost him for a few minutes, but he found me again. I was only a feew blocks from home, and was unwilling to show this guy where I lived, so I stopped and waited for him to catch up to me at the corner of Pismo and Chorro St. Here is a transcript of our conversation...
GUY ON BIKE: "Hey. You Hangin' out?"
ME: (annoyed) "Uhh, yeah."
GUY ON BIKE: "You hang out alot?"
ME: (more annoyed, slightly scared now) "Uh, I guess. What do you mean?"
GUY ON BIKE: "I'll suck your cock."
ME: (petrified): "Jesus Fucking Christ Man."

At this point I sort of walked/ran across the lawn of a nearby house, cutting across to the next street. This guy was really big, actually he looked just like Henry Rollins, may in fact have been Henry Rollins. I sat on a curb, waiting until I was sure that he was gone before I resumed walking. I walked a couple more blocks when a young guy walked up right behind me, and asked if I had seen this crazy guy on a bike. He told me a familiar story about being offered a blowjob, and asked if we could walk together until we were far from the scene of the crime. We did, and I arrived home safely. Once in the apartment I promptly poured myself a drink, picked up "The Transmigration of Timothy Archer", pushed play on the stereo, and fell asleep to to Interpol's "Turn on the Bright Lights".

I lived...

By the skin of my teeth. Never has anyone been more pleased to be back to the familiar. I wonder how long that will last. If anyone who may be reading this has even the slightest desire to enjoy more hzablogs in the future, for God's sake leave a comment, because I will not write without the support of my once loyal and alarmingly large readership base, and I need to and must know that you are out there and waiting, and that you have counted down the days until my return, the same as I, and that now that I am back, we can continue where we left off and maybe, if there is a God at all up there in the infinite heavens, we can grow even stronger together, and propel ourselves to heights of intimacy and pleasure that as of now exist only in our most sacred and secret dreams.