In fact, dull friends could be overhauled through a process of dosing. That was rehab then. I was eight and aging in '67 toward summers of responsibility. So yeah, I'm here panhandling a Dionysian second. It should be free because it's mine.
Some diggers are dead.
Good deeds and digging myths carry them. I need a myth. My blood generation's deeds I missed through discordant pulsings. Further rusts in Kesey's yard. My mind's in morgue.