Lead Us Not Into Penn Station

This is one of the best anti-Bush digs that I've heard in a while, and at the Bedford Cheese Shop, no less. It's a good day when the guy slicing your Piave can drop a one-liner that makes you laugh for 20 minutes.


















NY is nearing the end of the summer, I think and hope, all at the same time. It is still warm at times, and things are getting a bit ripe over here in Greenpoint. Manhattan Ave. smells exactly like dead body and the locals are having none of it.
















Neither am I, but whatever, shit's on sale.

















There was some dead serious pie making going on in my apartment this weekend.


















It was good too.

















I also began the slow, and relatively painful task of pairing down my presonal belongings in anticipation of a move. Nothing sudden, but a steady purging of unnecessary things so as to lighten my load. I am off to San Francisco (again) soon enough. I have a big bag of black t-shirts and para-military boots for Beacon's Closet to sweat on and then I am going to melt down all of my vinyl and make a helmet. Just kidding, I am making a vest. Regardless, I found one drumstick, a pair of nerd glasses and a Frenzl Rhomb hat that my friend Zoe gave me that reads 'World's Fukedest Cunt.' It was a good day. Needless to say, I won't be getting rid of these things anytime soon.















I have a dinner date to see Rocky I in Bryant Park tomorrow night, and then I have to decide if I want to go on tour with Alice in Chains or not. I'm pretty sure that I don't want to go on tour with Alice in Chains.