10^th August 2019

My wife and I were drugged by a Buddhist monk once. For reals. Apparently he was enlightened but we only had his word to go on about that. I can say for certain that he was a decent business man because he sold us some of his home brew jazz cd’s while we were there (he was a local business man of the year). That was after the scented tea drug (he was a local business man of the year). Afterwards I drove home across the country with a headache. Part of the way home from the tranquility garden that we’d gone to visit, I said to Anna that I was thinking of bloody driving back to said monk to say that if he’s in the market for popping enlightenment then I’m sure that such drugs already exist. Unless enlightenment is supposed to feel like a headache. Years earlier I’d hung out around the fringes of Das Western Buddhist Order and generally found enlightening to be no more harmful than it was a hassle. Anyway that tea was dreadful to drive under, like an endless Blob Dildo anthem blasting from a puja circle within the oscillations of my mind-brain. I couldn’t even have a go on the worry beads he’d flogged us because I was busy with the steering wheel. Ridiculous.