Timothy the Shaman

There's a couple little things that happened along the way from Texas to California, but I HAVE TO get this out of my system. You're all in for a real treat. 

When we got to California, we booked a hotel over in La Jolla. We would apartment hunt all day and at night, there was a fire pit at the hotel bar we'd hang at, unwind, and just watch people. Good god, we saw some losers. There was one asshole we called "Caterpillar Eyebrows"...

Skippy's parents taught him good. I learned that night  that on the occasions Skippy calls me an idiot (jokingly), it's not because I'm female. It's because I truly am being stupid. I respect that.

Later on he went to the restroom and I spent my moment alone looking up places to live on Zillow and this happened....

In that moment the Jersey Devil doth possessed the ounce of soul left in my body. I was two drinks in and everyone knows if you give a Jersey girl a drink, she's gonna punch a bitch if you don't hold her back.

The boss lady at the head of the fire pit was impressed and thanked me for standing up to the drunk little caterpillar.

Then Skippy came back and learned all about the redhead comment. He was smooth as peanut butter about the entire situation. My raging Jersey yang was in desperate need of his Southern gentleman yin.

Between his comment about the woman being in charge of a company and telling the guy, "This woman here stuck with me through a 9 month deployment and that's how I knew she was the one," I've never been so proud and so attracted to a person. I highly recommend everyone finds their own, personal Skippy. A "Skippy" is the best person you will ever come across in your life and you should keep them around forever.

And then he tried to mess with the caterpillar...

And this is where I learned I wouldn't like California because good god, did I see some obnoxious, snotty drunks. We didn't even have a place to live yet and I was already counting the days when we'd leave the state.

Sorry locals, you can tell me "You're going to love it here" all you want, but I don't. I can't. I am Team Northeast for life, you walking pieces of wax fruit.

At the end of the night, Caterpillar left his phone and wallet on the table, but Skippy was noble enough to collect them and chase the guy to the elevator. I mean, we were kind of drunk but this jackass was so deep down in the bag, he didn't even recognize his own personal belongings. It took Skippy a couple tries to make the man realize...

I'm proud to say we, some 20 something "kids", are more responsible and more mature than a middle aged man. He had a presentation to give the next morning and I hope he bombed it. I've met losers, but this guy was a neo-maxi-zoom LA - HOO - ZA - HURR that couldn't hold his daiquiris. He deserves to wake up with mud on his dick and not know where it came from.

But there was one night... one night (I think it was the next night) we had a close encounter with a strange, other worldly creature. He wandered out of the shadows, a cluster of trinkets clinking from his puca shell necklace he bought for $20 (so said the price sticker still on it), a beat up guitar that was horribly painted, and some kind of hillbilly hat upon his egg head.

We soon found out we were in the presence of a shaman. Gather round the fire, my good people while I tell you the tale of our encounter with....

No joke, he came out of the wild darkness and, legit, threw his face mere centimeters from the fires to light a crinkled cigarette he retrieved from his back pocket.

And he was stoned off his gourd.

I was really curious where he got the deer bones yet a part of me said that was best to be kept a mystery.


And he told us the most entertaining tales I'd ever heard....

And as if the night couldn't get any more bizarre, this thing appeared....

We wondered if she might throw something whether it be her luggage or herself. This happened about three more times. I don't think she actually checked out.

We were out there until three in the morning listening to Timothy the Shaman's wild adventures. We got to see his "artwork", hear his theories on how the government is controlling the weather and viruses, and how he was in the army for a short time.

Skippy is friends with him on Facebook. Now whenever I'm in a bad mood or feel like I'm not doing much with my life, I just go to Timothy's page and scroll through his pictures (which are all available to the public). I guess, in some form, Timothy the Shaman is a healer of negative emotions. Because his pictures make me laugh.

Last I heard he was given the title of "Purple Dragon Shamanic Healer". It's exactly what you think it is. I wish him well on his quests.