I was visiting Jessica at the coffee shop where she works; me and a friend decide to order a pizza while we are hanging out. We are very hungry. This old-ass plumber that he knows (also hanging out) says he will give us a couple bucks so he can get a piece. Fine. Key word here: A piece.

We order, pay for, and drive to pick up the pizza and bring it back to the coffee shop. Old dude eats two pieces and gives two pieces away to random fat people that he knows that are not on the pre-approved pizza distribution list. So two pieces each are left for the people who bought the pizza, while old dude has consumed four (albeit two indirectly).

I wanted to pick up a piece of the leftover cheese stuck to the box and smush it into his eye.

I went to see Mexico 1910 at Melvin's late last night. The guitarist/bassist Ashley was shredding on the bass during one of their new songs and I was completely entranced by her fingers. Her fingers looked like a robotic hand performing some task, but it was with such fluid grace that her bass lines carried the song. I was completely entranced.

Bobby and his roommate Max gave me a copy of Tom Verlaine's Dreamtime on vinyl as a sort of housewarming gift. Perfect timing since I have been listening to Television for weeks, given all the rain and Marquee Moon's fitting sound for thunderstorms. Thanks y'all. Speaking of which, my collection of LPs is slowly growing, but I think I will have to double it before I can feel like my turntable purchase is justifiable.