Just another day I suppose. Today it’s Wednesday. Last night was nothing special, watched Dexter which was really good, really edgy and really gruesome. I was hesitant to watch it, not for the subject matter of a serial killer who kills other serial killers, that doesn’t bother me at all. Just that the show has such a slow moving feel to it, I forgot how easily I can sucked into it. It was either that or The War, which will be repeated on the weekend, plus I know how it ends.

Bill woke me up before he left. I asked him what time it was and he said it was Triple 5 time. Surprisingly I was able to understand what Triple 5 said and what Triple 5 meant, it was 5:55. That was an incredible feat for me since I was barely conscious at the time. After that it was putter putter mutter mutter and out the door into 80% humidity. Dense air means sweaty clothes by the time I get to the office. This morning I listened to the entire album of The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars which I didn’t like years ago. All the cool kids liked it at CYO and since I wasn’t cool I didn’t like it. I preferred Elton.

Someone sent me a package from Newbury Comics in Boston, but the post office wouldn’t or couldn’t deliver it without a signature, so I signed the card to have it left here at my building. Tonight when I came home, there was no card, and no package. So if you’re reading this, and it was you, you might want to contact Newbury Comics and let them know the package wasn’t received.

I think I have to stop answering the phone while I write. Too many distractions. Breaks the flow then I’m left hanging. Though Harpy called the other day when I wrote and during his ramble I remembered to include something in the blog so sometimes it helps. Perhaps a call by call, case by case basis, or basically whenever I’m in the mood to be distracted when writing.

I was reading in the New Yorker about the 50th anniversary of On The Road by Jack Kerouac. I read it, I loved it. Affected my life somewhat. I was hanging out with the Colgate crew and I imagined the group of us being like those guys, Kerouac, Burroughs, Ginsberg et al. Perhaps we were in the way we pursued illegal substances, and wrote poetry and attended poetry readings. It’s a good book, and like the New Yorker pointed out, it’s about the forties, not the fifties. And Kerouac sure was handsome back then, not when he turned into a bloated alcoholic at the end. I used to think one of my friends back then, Paul Balderas resembled Kerouac somewhat. Paul was also that handsome and encouraging. I wonder what happened to him.

I just saw a commercial for Felician College featuring dancing Nuns.

I also did some editing on wikipedia yesterday. I edited the Bongos entry, some one had posted that they were all gay. I corrected that saying that Richard Baronasaurus was gay, the others were gay friendly. Nope! Edited out. I think it was Baronasaurus. Also edited the WFMU entry adding Frank O’Toole to the list of DJ’s. I wrote that Frank was a nice guy and played guitar with Speed the Plough back in the day. Someone edited that out and mocked my edit. I almost went back then decided it was so not worth my time.

Pics.

Woman with pearls in her hair, and hanging off her face (homage to Vermeer)

Working men and going to work men

waritoro

stage door johnnie’s check their cellphones

Japanese chef having a smoke

Euro man outside Cervantes Institute