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HAND WASHING AND AIR DRYING
Thursday / 21 June '01
Last night, in the real world, we were eating Gray's Papaya hot dogs and sucking down papaya juice, while literally running to the Film Forum to make it to the movie STARTUP DOT COM, when i dropped my hotdog on the street. On the NYC street. On the gutter of the street, in west SoHo to be exact, I dropped my hotdog. I dropped my hotdog, still hugged in its bun, in the dirty NYC street gutter.
After I dropped my hotdog on the street, I let out an immediate responsive wahhh, while robbie rushed down and within seconds picked it up for me. Then i proceeded to finish eating it. I ate it. I ate it anyway. You can't lose your Gray's Papaya hot dog: crunchy, (... almost like it's squeeky), sourkrauty, ketchuppy goodness —with the perfect amount of hidden sugars— to a little dirt.
Last night, in my dreams, i had nothing to wear to a wedding i'm going to this weekend, and i was spun into a fruitless search for dress and shoes. All i found, in this mall which was an old, echo-y, converted former junior-high school, was a $700 suede skirt, which i couldn't afford.
On Sixth Avenue last night, on our way to Gray's Papaya [click for big]
THINKING OF GOING SWIMMING NEXT
Wednesday / 20 June '01
Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad.
Last night I made my own enchilada sauce. I soaked hot peppers and blended them with cumin and oregano and onion and garlic and other things. I made spinach taco like things, draped them in the thick rusty colored chilisauce ... and we ate it. It was yummy, served with raw radish, olives, guacamole.
Cooking is good.
I have some good spycam pictures (hi-res) to post... apres nager! Look to your right...
DRINKING COFFEE IN SILENCE
Monday / 18 June '01
Skyline: Bedford Ave. click for large.
Tarp: Driggs Ave. click for large.
Go. Get yourself a juicer, then pick yourself up a watermelon. Then juice the watermelon. and juice every day, a watermelon. Yeild the most refreshing of pink slushy results, and call it the summer of watermeloning. That's what i'm doing.
Weekend: All started out watching the $9, 2-hour music video that is Moulin Rouge. Nice sets... But why wasn't Toulouse Lautrec portrayed as a painter? Why did Ewen Mcgregor's character have to be named Christian? It was dumb how they called it the Moul-on-Ruge, instead of Moulaahn HROUGE...I sort of hated it. I wish we had gone to see Sexy Beast instead.
Walking around brooklyn all weekend hearing Shugee Otis everywhere we go; constantly drinking fresh watermelon juice that we juice at home; i bought a thrift store mug that says BOSS BOSS BOSS all over in it in that classic brown serif-font, printed on a diagonal, on a creme colored mug, which is kind of perfect for me right now.
I can't seem to make it into Manhattan ever ... its good. We stayed up 'till the break of dawn one night dancing. I called my dad on fathers' day. We ate dinner at Diner again, always.
+ + +
[click image for big version] Briget Jones reader on the L platform late at night after the Tortoise show, which we didn't even enjoy very much.
[click image for big version] Reader of Liz Smith on the L train.
[click image for big version] At some Conde Nast gig... Mrs. Doubtfire?
I got some thing from some folks...
+ this kid's from brooklyn
+ a cute org = red
+ mad orange fools
+ bfg stands for what?
+ textures in fred's head
+ bklyn girl at last
+ we are fresh
+ mat...mark...Luke Holder
+ mcsweeneys dot net