Here is the humidifier at my dusty, dingy slave hole in Tin Town. It runs non stop hissing all day long in my right ear making no difference at all to this bone dry sick joke of an environment. My skin is flaking off all over my body, especially my face. "Do you have body lice dude?" A lucky non Tin born fuck might ask from a comfortably moist distance. No. I'm just scratching until I bleed because I'm dryer than a god damn hot popcorn desert fart here. The only true moisture in Edmonton comes from the barrels of booze we all drink and drive. Pass the lotion and take the wheel for a sec. My cracked hands are full of cans.