Hard Times
I forgot to mention that I had a gigantic and delicious muffin at the Hard Times Cafe after yon Brendan Benson show. I was reasonably drunk, so I was getting delicious crumbs all over myself. It was the awesome. What I can’t wrap my mind around is why the girl at the next table took my picture with her camera phone when she thought that I was not paying any attention. Did she think that I was cute? Was she amused because I was talking loudly about how colored hair, tattoos, and piercings didn’t mean anything anymore? Did she just want a picture of that asshole drunk guy talking shit way too loud in a place he didn’t belong because it was open and he was crazy hungry. Why would a person have a camera phone in the Hard Times anyway?
Who was the wiry guy with the dreads and the blood on his hand who came and sat next to her and her friend? Why did he have blood on his hand? Did he think I was cute? Did he ask about me?
Really, I just want to see that picture. Maybe they were taking a picture of Stan, anyway.
I’m on the last problem of this last homework. My brain is starting to crack. I think that I will skip the discussion section and work and just go home and take a nap.
yo, brutha jesse, now that we’re reasonably reacquainted with hawaii, we kinda miss good ol’ minneapolis and all the hijinks. we especially miss the keathly/mullan household…….and jimmy johns! glad to see you’re still a trooper with all the wit of morrissey. your friend, dean.