Saturday, August 30.
I’m in Tribeca. In the same spot I used to spend my lunch break on Thomas Street, once again, I sit and smoke a cigar. No anxiety that used to occur back in the day.
I was hoping that the Pixel 6a microphone would work. So I sit and type and smoke.
Mike is out of the picture due to things that he has to deal with.
Bill is preparing for the afternoon matinee of Postal Madness.
I am going to the Pleasure Chest.
The line for the Oasis pop-up shop is around the block
It was just said that I’m a ‘smooth nigga‘

Santiago Cohen
I knew you
35 years ago
For less than an hour
Yet your flame burns
In my heart
As I pass
Your former residence

It was a four day work week for me, and since I took a personal time off from work, I also did the same for writing. Yet, today I found myself somehow wanting to write. Or as Truman Capote said of Jack Kerouac, ‘That’s not writing, that’s typing.’ Perhaps in that sense, I am akin to Jack Kerouac.

I walked about 10 miles, though one or two miles was spent being transported on the ferry from the mainland to Manhattan. The PATH station is closed this weekend in Hoboken, and the ferry was just $3.00. I call that a bargain.

I walked through the neighborhood of Bratty McGrotty and I was tempted before heading out to make some anti-Joselito Semana stickers but I thought better of it and continued to think even less of it.

I saw an AVL3 post on social media smoking an Oliva cigar and decided that I, too, would enjoy an Oliva cigar. I lit up outside the store where I used to sometimes buy a cigar at lunc,h and walked to Thomas Street where this post started.

It was a leisurely walk through some former stomping grounds. No emotional attachments, just memories of jobs and shops where friends used to work 40 years ago. I strolled and enjoyed my cigar, not sticking around long enough to see if anyone was bothered by the smoke. I myself was a bit concerned with looking like a tourist, of which there were many.

I made it to the Pleasure Chest just as I was finished with the Oliva cigar. I walked in, it was narrower than last time I was there and I was certain I was there before, possibly with dear Pedro whom I am fondly missing today for some reason. Oh, the hard time he would give me for associating with Mike.

The Pleasure Chest did not have what I wanted, and their suggestions were out of my price range. I did find an item which might have satisfied my curiosity, but only time will reveal that.

40 years ago, or even 30 years ago, walking around Manhattan on a pleasant summer afternoon would not have been too much of a big deal. Today I am feeling it.

Andy Johnson, cousin of Kevin Wagner, or so HBJ thought, was a part of the new regime that came in after the old regime was fired from HBJ. Julie Diemer, another one of those proto yuppies she seemed nice enough, but apparently she could not have been trusted, and a horrible accident happened to her husband, and who knows what happened to Julie Diemer.

Bruce Cipriani was a hot man, A little thin on top, but had a nice ass and package, and he seemed to have known that fact. Mike Nathanson was an eager yes man who would never say no to anyone with the new region regime

Noel Walls was an operations support manager at HBJ. He directed the relocation of a 25-million-dollar subsidiary from New Jersey to Texas, so that he didn’t do it himself; he just likes to say so. I just liked a dead profile, it was also another handsome man, a little bit stupid in the head, but when his face is on the pillow, who cares what he has to say?

Mary Lynch was someone that we thought was a friend, turns out she wasn’t, and she was let go along with John Vasacek and Paul Lopresti, and Dave Manzo. Apparently, those three among others were ripping off the company, and after a few years, they were found out, thrown out, and replaced by the proto yuppies.

I myself and with a few other people, just two or three, knew that this new management created the void that could be filled, so without speaking to each other two or three other people and myself create a new positions for us which lasted for a couple of years before I got out knowing that this was too good to be true and it was.

Still, I am friends with one of them, and we pop up every now and then on social media to wish each other a happy birthday.

Tommy Kreiger. Flaming Teen Queen of Avenue E.
Kirk Westervelt Trudy Dr

I work with Lex Luthor, and it seems that my antagonism towards him was noticeable during a meeting that I had to take place in on camera.

According to Jimmy Chile, he was the only person who would have noticed something like that.
I had a fun phone call with Bill, which was fun because he’s a funny guy. Then I had a call with Mike, who might be coming over to help Bill with his lines tomorrow.

He might come over tonight, but that is all dependent on the PO, who may or may not show up like they said they would.

It is Thursday, August 28th, 2025, some nice, low-key.

Today is my Friday since I am off tomorrow. The PATH train is shut down from midnight tonight until Tuesday morning, and that’s a hassle that I do not want to take at the start of a 4-day weekend. So I am taking a personal time off to avoid all that noise. I claimed I had a dental appointment that could not be avoided, and no one batted an eye.

And since it is an ersatz Friday, I am smoking an actual cigar, not the mini that I usually do. It’s enjoyable, and I’m always on the lookout for people who might be bothered by the smoke or the aroma, but I find a lot of people react positively and sincerely claim it’s a Proustian memory.

I have the brilliance of Jimmy Chile, who astounds me with his friends and his stories and his history and concern and his empathy, that I have Marcus just confided in me his disillusion
So all look gorgeous, mosaic isn’t it?