Sex, drugs, and the custom car show

It was 1968, and me, and R.U.B. Ronnie Brown, and Wesley from across the street were driving to the custom car show at Cobo Hall in downtown Detroit.
I was driving.
I was the only one who had a car.
It was a 1964 Burgundy Buick Skylark with black leather bucket seats.
Wesley from across the street was riding shotgun, and R.U.B. Ronnie Brown was in the back seat, and I don't know why we called him R.U.B. Ronnie Brown, we just did.
So, we were driving down I-94, or maybe it was I-96, or it might have been I-75, who can remember it was almost 40 years ago ...
Wesley from across the street reached into his shirt pocket and asked if anyone wanted a smoke, and we said ...
We got our own smokes what we need is pussssssssssssss-y,
Which was pretty much our standard reply to anything, and just think how much different all our lives might have been if we were actually getting some, but that's another story, and I'm already tired of this story, so I'm not going on to another story, or ...
You see, that's what happens every time sex enters into anything, you, or should I say I, lose all train of thought, and this was going to be a great post about how what WFATS pulled out of his shirt pocket wasn't a cigarette, but a joint, and I was going to relate a tale of magic and stuff about getting high for the first time while going 70 miles an hour down the interstate, and getting lost, and not really caring about getting lost, and how magically, and there's that word magic again, and how we magically, and miraculously ended up in the parking garage at Cobo Hall in time to see the custom car show, and you know, I never really cared anything about hot rods and custom cars, but R.U.B. and WFATS did, and like I said I had the car, and they talked me into going, and I'm glad I went, and remember this was 1968 and drugs weren't really rampant, but Wesley from across the streets sister was a hippie, and she gave WFATS the joint, and all the time we drove around lost on the interstate I thought for sure in my paranoid delusional mind that Penny, that was WFATS hippie sister, just gave us the joint so she could eventually get me hooked on heroin, which, despite what Lou Reed might think, is not nice ...
But that post just went to hell when ahhhh sex reared it's ugly head.
I'm going to bed.
Goodnight.
Ok, I'm going to run spellcheck first, and then I'm going to bed, ok, I might have something to drink first, and then I'm going to bed, and I'll probably watch Oz and I'll most assuredly watch Carnivale because I am totally hooked on Carnivale, and not just because of Clea Duvall, who by the way, is probably the sexiest looking ugly woman in the world, and did I really just say that, and is it Duval or Duvall, and is she gay or is she straight, and is it ok to call lesbians gay ...
Oh, and don't forget Adrienne Barbeau who despite pushing 60, or maybe because she is pushing 60 is, or has become, one hot looking babe, at least from where I'm standing.
Ohhhhhhhhh, and don't forget the Siamese twin sisters!!!
Or the bearded lady?
Or Clea Duvall's or Duval's comatose mother.
And there's that sex thing again.
Goodnight.
For real this time.