I am safe and back at the San Francisco apartment with my friends (one of whom is my assistant and whose transcription you have read here).
I can't say why I let Irv go. I am no better than anyone else. My previous relationship with "Uncle Vick" has been documented in this blog. It is no secret. Victor is not a good man, but I could not run away and leave him to bleed to death. Sure, we used to go to the dog races drunk together in the old days, but I'm a new woman now.
I am a Libertarian. I don't believe in UFOs like Kucinich. I am not a comedian like Stephen Colbert. I am a Libertarian, which Democrats and Republicans alike consider just as bad.
Even though I believe in the legalization of all drugs as a solution to the War on Drugs, I do not believe that even psychopathic murderous asshole ex-boyfriends should be left to bleed to death in a skanky pole dancing palace - no matter how much I might have wished for such a thing during the "war years" of our relationship.
I have no time for a relationship with anyone now. I guess, not even with Irv. Those nights in the desert together were romantic, it is true, but now I must put aside my selfish interests and fight to represent my congressional district here in San Francisco.
Or can I? Irv, if you read this tonight, think of me. I would welcome you into my campaign if you would submit to a "Study of The Psychopath in Our Halls of Justice and in Our Seats of Power," that I am writing.
And would you have dinner with me?
BTW, Uncle Vick was taken back to jail in Los Angeles. He has a torn spleen. He might need a spleen transplant. I gave your name as his closest blood relative. I hear spleen donors are hard to find.
Please consider my invitation,
Kwan
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