2003-08-30 - 2:22 p.m.
We ended up naming the cat Simon.
My mom tried to teach him a blinking game which essentially boils down to:
Human blinks frantically at cat. Human thinks she is "playing" with cat. Cat goes crazy because of moving eyelashes and tries to attack eyes. Other human who had no previous knowledge of game wakes up at 3am with cats paws firmly planted on eyes.
Human screams in terror. Human can't open eyes for the rest of the night because cat is lying in wait 3 inches away.
My mom then informed me, humourously, that it was all in fun. My eyes are not fun. They are not toys. They are useful. I like them.
Last week I met a friend in Brooklyn and got drunk on 40's. Forties-Old English. A shitload of disgusting beer type alcohol for the low price of $1.99. After slowly overcoming my rampant social anxiety, it was a good time.
We saw American Splendor [which was good but not great], then met up with one of his friends [with whom he was staying] and went to a bar. The bar was chock full o' hipsters, in the flesh. Rampant taffetta afflicted the crowd.
Then we sat on the stoop of his friends apartment, directly under the Williamsburg bridge, and talked.
Some thug type fellow wandered over and begged a cigarette. My buddy obliged. The thug reached out his hand to accept and then we saw that it was a bloody pulp of a fist. Apparently he had to "take care of some guy you knowwhatimean, youknowwhatimsayin, yo" but now everything was cool.
Not particularly distubing, just memorable. I didn't get home until 7am. Funny thing, those trains-they don't run every five minutes come 5 am.
School starts soon.
~j
+DJ Shadow+
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