A hotel’s wyfy once resulted in my computer getting hit with a virus. It is a good place to get sniped, if you are techtarded. So I do not use hotel wyfy and try and finish writing projects. Flip the Hero Phone gets no service in this location and thus I am in good poetic isolation, the lone White Devil dining with the mob of pretty Chinese, with the Latina behind the hotel counter, I am quite pleased…

In this and other business hotels—all similar in layout—I unpack for a stay, the entire rucksack. This makes me feel right away more at home.

I then went around the room and photoed the contents with Flip. But first, the ruck sack, shown on my back in the mirror photo. This was given to me by dear godly Bogdan.

I store pants and computer cords, house and apartment keys, survival cordage given by Bob, a light book by Brian Jewell and knife at the base, place the small backpack with the two laptops in it on that, against the back frame, and pack the other clothes and war club around the computers, placing my hygiene kit and a loose shirt on top.

The clothes and vitamins are all zipped in storage baggies after their kind, as God commanded of Noah. The inner compartment under the top flap holds my medication: steroids from Doc and antibiotics from Doc and Tone for the lungs and the seratonin blocker for the eye from Doc and SaySay the Korean babe, bandages, bandaids and athletic tape given by Deb.

On the right molly low down is a canteen. On the molly above the canteen is my booze pouch.

The bottom pouch on the left holds a deck of cards, bed knife, skin ointment, nasal spray, hand sanitizer, potassium and salt vial, eye drops, topped with overflow from the top pouch.

The top left pouch is packed with nuts and baking chocolate, my daily hotel lunch.

The pack weighs between 35 and 45 pounds depending on gifts given, like the half gallon of rum that The Captain sent me from Seattle to Portland with for Big Tone and I. This trip the ruck scaled at 37 pounds.

I scaled 172.

My travel pants, boots and other clothes scaled 10 pounds.

In all, with my gear, I weigh exactly what my fat ass weighed in August 2019 just before becoming Rick’s dietary disciple. The hernias feel better, are not visible, and I think my be better if I can get down to and stay at 160 pounds, still 3 pounds over my last fight weight in 2007.

Lynn should have a Crackpot Equipment photo gallery on substack of the following photos.

Looking at the photos taken by Flip, I see, with credit given to the giver:

The lamp draped with a shirt given by Mescaline Franklin, which I use as a spare shirt packed loose in the top of the ruck and as a lampshade to keep my eye from getting hit with lateral light. [There are no overhead lights.]

Easy chair: Travel boots, from Shayne, and wool socks, from Danica. Use a pair of ankle socks [actually bought at Dollar store] for local wear until go time. Teamster’s hoody and windbreaker from Big Tone.

Luggage cabinet with empty ruck and pack stowed underneath:

-Baggie of 4 ankle socks, 1 cotton socks, 1 heavy cotton socks, 1 medium cotton socks from Danica and Jenn. Most of my wool socks sent by Lynn are kept in the Pacific Northwest.

[Just answered the door in my boxers for housekeeping and the lady apologized, “I sorry!”]

-Baggie of 3 T-shirts, from Deb and Rick. These very light shirts are worn while in hotel as they wash easily by hand in the sink.

-Baggie of black shirts, 2 silk longs from Lynn and 2 heavy shorts from Mary and Banjo.

-Large baggie, Krav Maga pants from Miss Ezz, Belted cargo pants from Lynn and a dress sweater for church from Monica.

-Baggie: 3 briefs & 2 boxers from Danica, a pillow case for use as a laundry bag, 2 jock straps from Gina.

-Baggie: belted climbing shorts from Rick and swim trunks from Danica.

-Baggie: blue dress shirt from Manny and a hernia ,Truss from Gina.

The right bedstand closest to door where I sleep: lanolin and MCT oil from Gina and Rick for my thinning skin, phone charger from Manny, and knife from Erique.

-The left bedstead, where SaySay, the Korean babe who works the counter at the liquor store sleeps [never let your woman sleep with the knife, especially when she knows you have other women], neoprene night cap from Mom, and Iron fan war club from Erique.

-The TV cabinet, pistachios, almond slivers, peanuts and dark chocolate sent by Theresa and Lynn and packed by Jenn, travel pants from Rick, with the eye patch given to me by Joanna in Manhattan in May 2019.

-The tiny fridge in the cabinet, where is to be found the fresh food brought by SaySay and the miniatures packed by Jenn, the Captain’s Wife: Crown Royal, Fireball, Jack Daniels and Wild Turkey.

-The clothes rack, is where I hang my travel jocks [Gina] and Teamsters shirt [Big T.] who suggested that looking like a retired union thug would help me with cops and conductors at train stations and cab stands—and he has been very correct] that I wear only for travel, and my Saint Christopher’s medal from Mom.

-Sink top:

hygiene bag unpacked comb and scissors from Danica, Amish beard balm from Erique, tooth brush, mouthwash from Ajay, organic deodorant from Rick and razors and floss which I buy at Safeway.

-Vitamin bag: D and fish oil, zinc, C, [purchased] potassium and pink salt [Rick] and NAC and melatonin from Lynn.

-This desk: the right lamp is kept unlit and the top is capped with my bush hat from Danica to protect the right eye. I wear the night cap down over my glasses while writing. The small laptop to the left was given in 2019 in New Jersey by my Creep State contact and is used to go online. The external hard drive from Lynn, The Mouse from The Brick Mouse, the desk knife/camp knife from Bob and the screen glasses and new laptop purchased with readership gratuities. Between the two lamp stands are, in foil and plastic, 2 flash drives that stay in my pockets in case the ruck gets lost, given by Andrew Edwards and Lynn. The pens are from various hotels, with 4 slid into the side molly of the ruck. The Gideons Bible found in the bedstead drawer in most hotels I can no longer read without blowing up the eye. But I still like to set it out on the desk.

Thank you all so much.

PS: For Dawn the darling Barmaid back at The Office in Portland, who said, “Don’t you love your life,” and “you are a perfect gentleman,” thanks for giving me the confidence to continue this nerve wracking lifeway, for it benefits the writing process, which is the object of this oddly extended stay.