The other day, rainbow told me where to walk. I’ve been pretty glum lately, what with the shitty tweety governmental debacle setting up to ruin all our lives and all, and I looked up and there it was so that’s the way we went. Part way there, a big fat coyote ran smack in front of us in front of a quiet intersection up where the houses get bigger. Nobody was eaten and he was last seen heading towards the cul de sac where the one fingered farmer lives and where the family that had all the reptiles in the dining room used to live til they moved away into the mountains.

What I assumed he, he being the coyote, was saying, was take the sewage trail. A sign’s a sign and I’ll take it. The sewage trail’s a fire road that’s not much used that runs through the arroyo between the big houses on each side of the hill. You have to know to walk through this squeeze between the hedge and the wall by the condos. There’s a fire hydrant right there in case you can’t find it or no coyote runs lickety split down the hill, albeit with no chicken in it’s mouth.

I don’t worry too much about Banksy being a snack, and also she found a ball. A dirty, filthy, sewage ball. The coyotes seemed to have vacated for a jaunt wherever the fat one was going, so it was a good day for nobody getting eaten.

I think mostly the sewage trail’s used for smoking pot and drinking beer. Both things are now legal, except if you’re a kid. Then I think you can only smoke pot. So probably mostly used for kids to smoke pot and drink beer, and coyotes to eat small housepets. On the sewage trail! Move to my town! It’s great! Plenty of seating! Not much healthcare in days of the near future, but all the medical marijuana you can drink. Plenty of seating! Mind your small pets!

NYTimes ranks Santa Cruz as 3rd happiest city for happiness.