I’m a young girl. Runaway and scared.
My new adopted name is Starr.
I love the Beatles.
I have on embroidered jeans and a sweatshirt. On my way to Woodstock by thumb.
On the way I meet Bob. Fall right in love.
Bad things happen to me.
Great things happen to me.
I’m confused and excited at the same time.
I do not take the brown acid.
Weed is fun.
No pills.
Think I’ll cook up a baby.
Find a dog. His name is Boone.
Tie dye teeshirts. And sell them.
Peace, baby!
Far out, man!
Who are the Grateful Dead, and why are they following me ?
Let’s all meet up at the park and burn one.
Remember what the dormouse said:
“Feed your head. Feed your head. Feed your head”
Dave’s not here man.
Everything in the universe is… is… is made of one element, which is a note, a single note. Atoms are really vibrations, you know, which are extensions of THE BIG NOTE. Everything’s one note. Everything, even the ponies. The note, however, is the ultimate power, but see, the pigs don’t know that, the ponies don’t know that. Right?
I’m a hippie. You’re a hippie. Wouldn’t you like to be a hippie, too?
If you’re going to San Francisco. Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair.
And a face mask.
Preferably one of these.
Deep man. That’s deep.
Can I buy some pot from you?
I’ve got some killer Calphalon, man.
We’re all living on a commune, mostly in tents (we’ll eventually build something resembling a house, but we haven’t done it yet. I think we did already have the disintegrating old trailer.) One night, some of the neighborhood young men show up and try to start a fight, but none of us will fight back. Two or three of us run half a mile down the road to the nearest neighbor to try to get help, because we’re seriously afraid they’re going to beat up people. When we all get back there (I can’t remember whether the cops came or just the neighbors did), things have calmed down, and nobody actually got hurt.
True story. I could tell a batch more. I like the one about the day we were walking down the road carrying axes, but I think I’ve told it somewhere on these boards already.
I had a set of those. Not as good as All Clad.
You don’t understand hippies at all: it’s all about sharing!
Listen while I play my green tambourine
Nah, name the dog Boo, then go travelin’ and livin’ off the land.
Come on over, we’re having a Love-In!
Ha! You are a hippie. For reals
