A Weekend (In The Devil Town)

Spent the weekend in New York City (This salsa is made in NEW YORK CITY?!?!). Friday night, reconnected some bases, watched my Wizards fall magnificently to the Lebron James’, and enjoyed a night of rudimentary hedonism. Gavin, you were fucking miserable at beer pong — a little less miserable then me — but that doesn’t excuse you, you’re still a Knicks fan. Lisa also has two hamsters: one with huge balls, and one that looks like Stimpy. The one that looks like Stimpy got stuck in the coach, and we had to cut open the bottom to get him out (does anyone even remember how this occurred? I think it began with the two male hamsters eatting each other out on my lap). I suggested that the darker, bigger balled hamster be named Patrice, after African nationalist Patrice Lumumba. I think this idea fell on deaf ears however. Also, Marika beat up a pinyata and promptly passed out after feeling soft furniture (one toke over the line).

Saturday was one of the best — a slow day in Central Park, a delicious meal of sushi and tea, and a magnificent movie in the Lower East Side — all in the context of a relaxed, stoned aura. We saw ‘The Devil and Daniel Johnston’, which was god-honestly one of the better movies I’ve ever seen. Some of the better scenes included Dan singing half-heartedly in the middle of a pharmaceutically-repressed depression about his inability to write songs, the members of Sonic Youth searching for Dan in the streets of NYC during a mental collapse, and a live performance of ‘Evil Town’. Plus we saw it in one of the cooler theaters I’ve seen in my life, and I’m glad I saw a section of New York City outside of the Upper West Side (I guess we both forget that I’m a visitor here). This was followed up by a big slice of Hawaiian pizza in a hut blaring techno music, some meaningful conversation, and the realization that sometimes outside of us, the world doesn’t matter. It’s nice to have this going so well when at times, it feels like the world around us is melting.

Anyhow, it looks like I’m moving onwards and upwards. I want to become the prodigal son at the Middle East Thought Factory. I also would like a new apartment and a new batch of friends. If you can supply either, email me immediately.

In conclusion, DC sleeps alone tonight and this place is a prison (these people are not my friends):

I’ll wear my badge:
a vinyl sticker with big block letters
adhered to my chest.
It tells your new friends
“I am a visitor here… I am not permanent.”

I am dividing at an alarming rate.


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