Boogie by the river

Hello bookwormy on the Internet people,

I am sitting in my room, on my own, with my window open. About half a mile away from here is the river and the little ferry across it. And there is a party going on. Half the town is there. I am not. Cruel world. There is music and beer and drunks and I am missing out. It lasts three days, so I might go tomorrow. They are playing these really really good oldies, with brass section, rocky Elvis like voice and drums and guitars and stuff. Plus, it's always good to see old people behave like idiots.

I have no idea why there is a party that last three days but it's called after the river. Maybe it's the river's birthday. I was there last year and lost my coat. I don't know why I brought it in the first place. But then my nice pallies went back and got it for me and brought it to me. It was covered in yuck. I don't even want to know what it was, but it looked like snot. Luckily it was a plastic coat and it came right off.

But no yuck on my coat this year, yet, as I'm not there. I'm just sitting, listening from a distance. It does kind of makes me want to go over there and be loony. With the old people. Everyone's loony then so it doesn't matter. I can actually hear them singing along now, like crazy old people who think they are cool and acting like adolescents. Bunch of hippies.

I have a feeling my pallies might be out among the old people. But I am not feeling sorry for myself. I'm wearing a t-shirt that says: 'I love myself, my ego proceeds me'. And a pair of pants that are pink with flowers and little beads on them. Can't beat that. Hmm. I think I might be the hippy here.

Well, until later or possibly until after I've done some sleeping.

Lalalala.