Visiting Jimi

In between clients I usually turn up the volume on my IPOD and listen to some Portishead and enjoy some cheese, but the other day, I decided to take a hike across the street to visit the burial place of Jimi Hendrix.

When I arrived, there were other visitors. It looked like a husband and wife team who apparently parked in the lot and then treked across the wet lawn to see Jimi. I was laughing so hard because the man's suede shoes were getting destroyed in the grass. He was saying stuff like, God Da$&*@#$, Muthaf$%*(@, $hit&$@(.

Me, I was just chillin - La Di Dahhhh. As you can see my legs are so short, I couldn't even put my foot up properly to lounge.


I went to Franklin, he went to Garfield.