Just in from Fred Green, who created this shit-ass piece of ill-literature while violently caught in the grips of a delusional, chafed, Kerouacian sweat…

“the room was five feet from mine. two small beds and some piece of shit power computing machine which kept running out of power. It had Dinosaur junior stickers that were always a little too greasy—if u know what I mean. And all through the night I could hear Draplin and his roommate and best bed buddy: the arayan academic(1), who hated just about everybody in existence—including jews of which I am one —having digested enough matzoh to feed all the damn dreadlocked NADARtarians living on belmont st.(2) Anyway, Draplin every night yelling at B “shut up what do u know” then B yelling: ” u dont even read u just make those F*ckin’ stickers.”

Two losers lost in the middle of the midnight sun (3) arguing about how dumb each other was. Meanwhile me and poor matt leonard with his red thinning hair that he used too much hair spray on every morning trying to stick b5 and b6 (4) hairs down. Let me explain that matt had some kind of mason-like secret governmental grid design plan that he used to make sure every actual hair had some stick’um on it and then he would push it down cementing it forcefully on his head. I’d be knocking on th door for 20 minutes so i could clean my butt because of all the cheap beer i was drinking in anchorage was seriously make a little butt fire (5) every morning. And the girl (6) i was seeing or burping with once got mad at good ole draplin and when we did not have any keys to get in she opened up Draplin’s window and stepped on his bed with very muddy sneakers leaving tred marks all over his pillow and sheets. But i am getting different years mixed up with different stories of all the suffering I was forced to endure. Oh the sight of Drap in his boxers (7) in the heat of anchorage squirming around on his blow up mattress—the sound of his skin sticking and then ripping up and out with wet sweat suction. I have been harmed greatly. I have had cheese thrown at me and when he sees me now he comes up to me makes a fist and fakes like he is gonna hit me. (8) Oh all the same riffs of the same old uncle tupelo songs that Drap has fantasized to himself so in love with the lead singer. I Hear his newest project is to be called “Sideburns of Jay” 45 poetical odes illustrating one man’s love for another’s insurgent country face hair.

UPCOMING POSSIBLE ANCTEDOTES:
-THE ORIGIN OF THE TERM PORCH AS THE WORLD KNOWS IT AND WHAT DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH STINKY.
-WHAT DRAPLIN REALLY MEANS WHEN HE SAYS “NAILED IT”
-Why cant matt leonard get mad
-Matt annoying habit of making sardine bagels sandwhiches with a whittling knife.

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Deciphered for those who night actually care:

(1) Brian Johnsen, token Communist and Indiana Hoosier.
(2) By where Fred lives. Fred has chosen many districts to suffer in, Belmont being one fo them.
(3) Anchorage, Alaska.
(4) His thinning head was mapped out with a calculated grid. Hairs has strategic places to rest, etc.
(5) Very commonplace for Fred to “shit himself” every couple days.
(6) She had the body of Elle Macpherson with the face of a Rottweiler. Plus, she was mean and drunk.
(7) We like being comfortable, at all costs.
(8) “Well-warranted,” believe us.