Tuesday, May 08, 2007


Came to where I knew a druggist. I haven't been there in five years but he looks at up and makes me with one quick look and just nods and says: "Wait over at the counter..."
So I sit down and drink a cup of coffee and after a while he comes and sits beside me and says, "What do you want?"
"A quart of PG and a hundred nembies."
He nods. "Come back in a half an hour."
So when I come back he hands me a package and says, "That's one hundred and fifteen dollars...be careful."
Shooting PG is a terrible hassle - you have to burn out the alcohol first, then freeze out the camphor and draw the brown liquid off with a dropper - have to shoot it in the vein or you get an abscess, and usually end up with an abscess no matter where you shoot it. Best deal is drink it with goof balls - So I pour it in a Pernod bottle and start for Boy's Town past iridescent pools and orange gas flares and garbage heaps, hobos crawling around in broken bottles and tin cans, neon arabesques of motels, marooned pimps scream obscenities at passing cars from islands of rubbish...
Tijuana is a dead museum.

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