Key West Doldrums

And so I spill forth my report on Key West. A vile and insidious island of steaming rubbish inhabited solely by pot bellied burned out hippies, arrogant hobos, and fat white guys on scooters zipping around shirtless like a swarm of killer bees.
For diversion, the islands only claim to fame is Duval Street - their 'Bourbon Street' of the Keys. Fuck that shit! Tired flabby tourist shuffle on either side sweating profusely in the humidity of Moebius with that look of petulant arrogance common to all tourist - Tijuana, Juarez, New Orleans, New York, Guadalajara - don't talk to the locals, Mertle, all of them are con men! The street is lined with price gouged curio shops and bars all catering to the wealthy tourist.

Barkers lean bored depressed against whitewashed wood cantinas vibrating off of the effects of Meth addiction waiting to squeeze your wallet dry as some blubbery female tourist wobbles by in short shorts cottage cheese and varicose veins glistening from sweat. The homosexual inhabitants live in abstract fear of the burly sailors and greaser bikers that patrol Duval with huntsman stealth patiently waiting for their next Hate Crime. With that, everyone is unfriendly - one thing my time in Mexico has done is I greet everyone passing on the street. Here you pass some frowning fuck and the local habit is to look abysmally in the other direction. Sad sad bitter Angels lost in their own Paradise.

My first recollection of a beach on this island was a strip of sand a mile long but ten feet wide. No waves. Mostly covered in five foot mounds of sand and blanketed in stinking dead seaweed, two nudist bathed in the sun - old, dried up prunes of high social standards to be sure. As I shuffled by, Thurston rose to fart and retrieve a beer in his black thong, gut sagging, tired balls drooping, face sad and frowning. I could have stomached even that until Lovey decided to rise in the buff - I wanted to drop to the ground screaming and tossing sand in my eyes. A shriveled apricot with sagging flat breasts - why is it that only ugly people nude sunbathe?

And that smell - the wafting continuous smell of rotten eggs and brine. The seaweed blankets all the beaches - sullen mutters of revolt from the peasantry: "My teenage daughter is cunt deep in shit. Is this the American way of life?"

Over priced, under stimulated. This is not a paradise. A waste of time - even though I came here out of necessity. Tomorrow I am ever so glad to leave. Where? Well, I got two junction points and I think I'm leaving those for a surprise! I will continue to find my time space - but, every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage.