Turning Bedouin

The apartment is getting empty as if it were ever close to full. Stuff is scattered everywhere throughout the rooms. Books in stacks, mail in piles according to importance, clothes I can't figure out what to do with, either trash 'em, or leave 'em under the bridge. My two closest friends have expressed interest in buying some of my junk at drastically slashed prices.

I'm tellin' you, bitches, I'm on the fucking road! I may trade my bike in for a shaft-drive job. They're cheaper than chain drive bikes and supposedly much more efficient.


Time to look at some maps...