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birdmad
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collections agents, and an old, expired debt that i incurred just before the homeless time.
tricky bastard almost got me to resurrect the paper trail on it. i almost fell for it too. voice over the cube wall pointed out that i was about to be rather ingraciously fucked if i played along.
funny that after so many years of not shaking down deadbeat addicts, i have lost enough of my edge to not realize when some assbag in a cubicle farm was trying to shake me down
drinks, illicit smoke and the advice of counsel
a little gamble here and there
a little ride along the edge of uncertainty. different kind of precipice, much more tangible
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080501
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