Alan Emerson's Journal

A simple notebook, the red cover grasping for life at the metal binding. The top corner is a bit singed and burnt, from a cigarette no doubt, and half the wafer-thin pages are missing or sticking out the sides. It's filled with psuedo-philosophical ramblings of a man high on pot, with the occasional sober remark here and there, all in the form of Alan's chickenscratch, I-failed-fourth-grade-penmanship writing.