Wednesday, April 17, 2024


There are more marginals sleeping on the street in the North-East sector these days. Spring is here. Of course, I said that many times over the past month and a half, and every time more rain and cold came, but I think it might stick this time. There was a large nearly naked black man riding his bicycle down Grant Avenue. That, surely, is a sign of rebirth. While waiting for my friend the bookseller I smoked a full bowl in the current pipe for watching rats in Spofford Alley. A rather comfy Dunhill Bruyere, billiard shape. Very suited to poncing around pretending to be an old-fashioned imperialist lackey.

Over the past week I've been conducting an experiment: take the amlodipine besylate right around teatime, so that the twitchy achey itch from the inside out in my lower legs doesn't keep me from falling asleep in the evening. So three hours earlier than before. It seems to be working, and I'm in a cheerier mood because I can sleep enough. I advanced the pill-taking time gradually each day so as not to throw everything off.

I may be a much better person for it.
All sweetness and light.

Yeah, I'm still a venomous old blister, but a much mellower one. I snarl far less.
And I haven't ripped anyone to pieces in days. Days!
The world is not ready for this.
The young lady subbing for Liaoning Auntie at the usual dive remembered that I drink tea, and automatically switched on the kettle. That is entirely because of her intelligence and attention to detail, NOT my kinder sweeter personality from the amlodipine time shift.
Uncle Orb-Weaver is NOT a nice person. Trust me.

I still dislike Vegans.

They taste bad.

By the way, there is no such thing as Gluten-free Vegan Beef Wellington.
Nor should there be. And don't even think of it.
People have been killed for less.
Have a salad.

A burger was eaten, tea and whiskey were drunk, and a Mandarin speaker from Columbia sang Abrázame. Great voice. Too much aftershave. Somebody should tell him that women will not fling their privates at him, he will not be neck deep in nookity wookity if he drenches himself with that stuff. But other than that, it was a splendid evening.

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