Eventually an English ship laid anchor near his island and he went down to greet them in his beard and goatskins and was rescued. What a tale he had to tell.

The real Robinson Crusoe was quickly disillusioned when he returned to England. After a brief moment of sensational attention, he reverted to his old ways, drinking and making trouble. He lost access to God. Finally, he went off, far off in the country, and lived in a sod hut dreaming of his idyllic days of paradise on his island, where he lived less than six years altogether.

I think human beings are despicable. I am sick of saving their miserable lives. I would like to take a boat and my two German shepherds and go off to a tropical island. If anything happens, I can save my own life, pull my own teeth, perform minor surgery. Before I go, I’d have my appendix removed. I know the medicines I need to take and I can get them. I’m sick of junkies, prostitutes, alcoholic street bums, and killers, but they depress me far less than would, say, a Beverly Hills clientele.

I do love my dogs, however.

I’m scheduled to work the weekend night shift at the Valley General Emergency Room. There’s a full moon out. I find that it’s kinda hard to find access to God in Valley General’s ER, especially on a full-moon weekend.

Dufaye owes me a favor. I’ll twist his arm and get him to work my rotation. Tell him I got G.I. pain, fake a fever, and get someone to slice that appendix.

A guy driving around Cape Cod suffering from existential despair! Clendon and his Volvo. Victoria and her tits. Those fat kids and all of that prosperity. It just depressed the hell out of me!

There are lots of uninhabited islands in Fiji. Me and the dogs, we’re going to pull a Robinson Crusoe. Cutter’s Insect Repellent. I’m going to take a whole case of that shit.

I can’t stand mosquitoes.

A White Horse

AD MAGIC HAD​ one of his epileptic premonitions a split second before the collision, and managed to approximate a tuck-and-roll position just as the truck smashed into the back of the mini tour bus. He was seated in the center of the back row enduring the most horrendous hangover of his life when the crash projected him halfway down the center aisle like a human cannonball. There was a moment of stillness after the accident, and then the bus lurched over to the side of the road. A group of five men and a woman from Bahrain sitting in the center of the bus, themselves somewhat discombobulated but unhurt, got out of their seats to help the peculiar American to his feet.