Four AM. Joe Mantegna gets embroiled with a secret gun cult in Homicide.
 Stayed up for that one. Sometime between six and three PM I sneak in a few zees.
 Biked to the bank. Stopped by the cafe. Our cafe on Atlantic.
 It has a name but no-one remembers what it is. 
 Found a nice clean cookpot by someone's steps.
 My sweetheart's home! One more ride out to mail a check for the dvds and the cds
 I burned for Monika. Clothes check. Good stuff from the neighbors right across, and
 this bright red opera coat. I have half an hour to get ready. Fun shower time.

 Manhattan midtown. Didn't wait long to get in for Hair. Just really amazing.
 It is the singularly most enjoyably thrilling thing I have seen this far in theater.
 Saw a few celebs. 
 The funky non-celebs glimpsed at the cast party afterwards 
 include several Just Jack! (from tv's Will & Grace) lookalikes. One was wearing
 this überkew black shirt with a tiny pulsing neonlike solar plexus sun. 
 There was a bodyguard type suit with a coil jacked directly into his shaved skull.
 Schwei du, :c|punk: But was it? 

 The train home was full of crazies. 
 In New York City this may not mean much, but these guys were extra special.
 One was suit that stalked the length of the car we were in, extolling everybody to :smile:
 "Why aren't you smiling?" He'd peer inches away from your face.
 "Why isn't anyone smiling?" He dangled and swayed with the train.
 I kept wary of any candid cameras. 
 The other was a black guy singing (or drunkenly ululating) 
 in what he proclaimed was a song from his native Africa. He stayed at the far end, but
 as a sort of strange divine puppetry he weaved towards the center, as did smiley suit
 from his end. We came to a stop and smiley sat himself down while tribesman inched 
 closer to him. 

 Smiley yells at tribesman to be quiet. Tribey couldn't find the punchline to his raggedy joke.
 We get off. The sky was unusually clear and the moon was bright and full. The very reason.

 Got home and Sel was waiting up for me. Not for me to be mawkishly amorous (heh) but that
 was sweet and thoughtful. Aw, sweetie (^-^)
 I was ravenous! 
 Cleaned out the fridge item by item. Porkchop, mashed poto, chicken gazpacho, most of a 
 baguette, pink lemonade. I stopped raiding after a while and walked the block to the corner
 bar for a pint of Guinness. Well, the watered-down brackish they're shilling as Guinness anyway.

 Today must be my lucky day with stoop shopping. Picked up a few books to take home,
 the first two copies of Tin House and a St. John's Wort paperback. 

 Online for a bit of mailcheck. News from Mom, Nan, Bobby, Aldin, and Marti.
 Closed the day by zoning out to Animal House on TNT. 
 

.

 Kuei GPS 

 The Flying Saucer
 494 Atlantic Ave. betw. 3rd Avenue and Nevins 
 Bklyn NYC  718 522 1383 tel

 Thankfully the yuppie guppy horde from Smith St. hasn't found this place yet. 
 Ask Miguel for a short mocha or chai. Stay away from the bloody roast beef. 

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