Dear Ghetto Shaman,

I recently read your book, Shamanic Deeds Done Dirt Cheap, and one passage has me perplexed:

I read the signs in the sacred fire; I entered the green reptile’s web; I prayed to the Walmart midgets in the forgotten passage; I danced amongst the bones of the Seven Rainbows; and I still made it passed the Dark Mountain for the final retrieval.

P.S.  Oh, and who are the Cross-dressing Guatemalans? 

Sincerely,

Jack Lavin

Beaver Dam, WI

Dear Jack,

Thank you for you patronage, one who dams his beavers.  The meaning of my work could not be clearer:

I read the signs in the sacred fire (I smoked some pot with Pokey); I entered the green reptile’s web (I had to pay a cover at the Bullfrog Brewery); I prayed to the Walmart midgets in the forgotten passage (I vomited in the alley); I danced amongst the bones of the Seven Rainbows (there was a Dead cover band over at the gay bar); and I still made it passed the Dark Mountain for the final retrieval (I made it to Carl’s Pub for last-call by sneaking around that bouncer who hates me).

The Cross-dressing Guatemalans usually frequent the, aforementioned, gay bar.

The Ghetto Shaman