Dreampt last night
I was going cross-country on one of these. It had been motorized, somehow. Stephanie Abrams was on another one, and she had a bigger engine than I, so it was hard for me to stay in front of her, which I had to do, because she smelled bad, and behind her was a bad place to be. Even a half mile back was bad, the hang time on that smell was serious.
We were travelling to Vegas on I-15, and we kept hitting pockets of rain, which she hated and I loved. Once she decided to go offroad to avoid a cloudburst, and ended up jammed solid in a mudhole. David Carradine came up out of the mud to rescue her, and once she was unstuck he slipped down in the mud again. About thirty miles out of Vegas, she picks up Dean Winters, who sits behind her on the Big Wheel. He keeps looking across at me as if to say “Why the hell didn’t you warn me about the smell?” and when we arrive he strips naked and burns his clothes. I loan him a pair of pants that he could use like a sleeping bag and he goes into a mall and buys clothes. Stephanie is surrounded by mexican groupies, and i wake up.
Apparently that Walmart stuff has some psychocilibin in it, or this is just a flashback.
