I was in Portsmouth; I was thinking of calling up a girl with whom I had had sex with before. But it wasn't worth the trouble – she was really not much fun to be with, and the only reason I would be calling her would be to have sex with her.

I had a baggie of marijuana with me for which I had paid about $15.

I wanted to see Walls. I first went to his house to look for him, and then went to his parents' house. I knocked on the door, but no one answered. I could hear a sweeper running inside; I figured whoever was running the sweeper couldn't hear me.

So I opened the door and looked inside. Walls was at the top of the stairs. He looked younger and his hair was black instead of gray. He saw me; so I walked on it. After he had come downstairs, we began talking; he said he didn't have any marijuana at the moment. I told him I had some. He told me I could sit down at the table or on the floor and roll a joint. I walked across the floor where he had just swept and as I took the baggie from my pocket, I dropped some of the marijuana on the floor. I said, "Oh hell, now I've spilt it all over the place."

I went back and began picking up the spilt marijuana. Walls walked back into the room. He didn't seem to care that I had spilt some of the marijuana.

It seemed his wife Connie was also there.

Walls and I began talking. I said something about alcoholics and how I wished he would stop drinking alcohol. He mentioned Alcoholics Anonymous and said the only people who went there were lawyers, doctors and music teachers. I told him I thought he had a misconception of the organization.

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