Holy smokes: my feet are beat and my skin is burnt. I shot 932 pictures today. I have to go through them before I can plop them on the internets like a fancy chapeau on a pug dog, but I thought that you might like to know that I did indeed make it out to see Dessa and Tapes N [sic] Tapes.
Memorial Day weekend was unexpectedly busy.
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“A moustache phone? How great would that be?”
Indeed.
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Generally I try to move through life like the Buddha. I let the world flow through and around me like a river through reeds. Also, I have a jolly tummy. This weekend proved no different.
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Sarah and I spent the afternoon and evening with Donald and Chandler. When we returned from a walk, Donald offered to feed us. For me he had sauerkraut and bacon potato salad. It was odd and sweet. Fast forward a few hours to the point where Sarah had fallen asleep in my bed while reading The Drawing of the Dark by Tim Powers. I accidentally woke her up while fixing the blankets. Then, well, bacon might be a traditional ingredient of sauerkraut, but let’s just say that persons wishing to include such a combination should consider spending the next few days outdoors… in a Superfund site.
Mistake Number One: Thinking that I could keep my cool while talking to my dad
Mistake Number Two: Entertaining his bullshit arguments.
Mistake Number Three: Not flying off the handle at him sooner.
I called Sarah tonight to let her know that I had a whole roll of her film ensleeved in a plastic negative page thing. Right. She asked what I was going to be up to tonight. I don’t remember for sure if I had yet eaten my advanced bachelor chow yet: leftover rice from Tariq (up the street), rice and chicken from Sarah’s house (a totally different kind), some bacon and eggs hash from a week or so ago, and a half a gallon of Huy Fong Chili Garlic Sauce. Apply microwaves, do a dance in your underpants, take out the trash, and eat while watching scratchy network programming roll up your television. I had to toss out the uncooked bacon, which implies to me that it had not enough nitrates in it — or I am not eating bacon fast enough. It was expensive pork tummy, too, so I’d say the latter. Note to self: eat bacon nonstop.
Picture pages picture page time to get your pens and your pixels.
This meat store is no more:
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It’s you and me, Handy Andy
Okay, so maybe I am flat busted broke. Shit happens. This will not stop me, though, for I have a cupboard full of beans and rice for the eating, plus veggie burgers and whole cut up chickens in the freezer. I am prepared for the long winter of summer — plus, I spent all winter putting on a layer of blubber under my fur to keep me warm in the bitterest of cold. However, I can’t very well entertain with no food, no booze, and a 13 inch television. I can’t very well feed my own blubber to guests… or can I?
No matter, for John made Christmas in May happen: a 12 pack assortment of fresh Summit beers. If only I would have moved to a location suitable for the similar acquisition of free entertainment. Oh yeah, it’s Steven’s Square, the new art district. I am totally restraining myself from swearing like a sailor on leave in hell. I felt all guilty for moving away from Northeast because I knew that I would be farther away from Art-A-Whirl and the slew of bars up dere in Nordeast, but if you read this post, you can find out all of the things that I want you to come do with me.
8am was jackhammer time today. Suddenly I’m glad that I got up early. Imagine my anger if I would have been wrapped in the gentle arms of slumber when the racket started. As it stands I have already consumed my delicious coffee. Mmm. Coffee.
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