No sleep. Brain is nearing critical mass o jello.
There's a Turkish guy on the flight hopped up on what looks like bathtub crank.
Our "stewardess" is a polynesian woman with a prothetic leg, handin out shots of Sambuca and pills in lil paper cups.
One of the engine techs went into the cargo hold with 3 rolls of duct tape. He came out with a half.
Course, this could all be a DT or sleep dep induced hallucination.
I'm trying to sleep. Slayer's "Diabolus in Musica" on the headphones, shot o Nyquil mixed w some of the vodka I brought. A couple pills out of the mystery fun bottle.
Picked up a cute british chic with blue pixie-like hair, oxblood 13 eye docs, and a WW2 bomber jacket. Her name is Lexi. She passed out in my lap reading "Tropic of Capricorn" after a few shots of Vod-Quil (and smoking half a pack of Am Spirs at our last refuel stop). She reminds me a bit of Anna.
I've switched to a mix of Nick Cave and Tom Waits, their complete discographies. It's on repeat. "O'Malley's Bar" seguewayed into "Jockey Full o Bourbon", and it fits my mood just right. Lexi is snoring in my lap and stirs a bit. I put my hat down over her face to block out some of the flickering lights overhead.
We're taking back off in a few. It's started to rain a bit and we're gonna wait it out some.
Waits comes in with "I Hope I Don't Fall In Love With You", and I look down at my new travel companion. Too fucking late, babydoll.