A summer Thursday and it’s a beautiful day. It is quite nice lots of people walking around doing their thing. I just had some halal food and it was good. First time in a couple of weeks so it wasn’t as bland as it used to be. And the guy seems to remember me and we’re happy to see me so that was nice too
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Just got off the phone with Mike. He’s coming over tomorrow, still is heading out tomorrow and Mike doesn’t want to see me alone. Tonight I leave work around 4:00 to go to an event in the belly of the fruit stand. It’s a party of sort and it starts at 4:30 because it’s till 6:00 I don’t know if I’ll stay for the whole thing but I am going cuz I’m a team player
I also found out I’ll be working next Monday to Thursday in the valley of the fruit stand and having such a productive day yesterday I have no problems with going there next week in fact I’ll be working on a different floor with potential artists that will be coming in and going and back and forth
The halal food sits in my belly right now. It’s a beautiful day. I slept well last night. So a few good looking men just walked by not all together but in space is up about 10 minutes apiece. One was the usual handsome black runner. Then there was a very handsome guy well dressed and then there was another runner.
I’d like to go riding on Sunday but right now the weather report says it will be raining and I have no idea how that’s going to turn out since they are wrong half the time, those meteorologists!
End of dictation!
I went to the event at the belly of the fruit stand. I had halal food for lunch and it was good. I think it had been over a week since my last visit to the halal cart. And the time away made the difference. Last time the food was good yet bland. Today the food was good and not so bland. The guys in the cart recognized me since I always bring a bag from the last visit. And I tip well.
The afternoon proceeded as expected. I left earlier than usual as I was attending a party of sorts. I walked from my fruit stand to the belly of the fruit stand. It was certainly a warm late afternoon and I changed my undershirt when I got to the belly.
It was a team building event, and I suppose a way of thanking the team for the past months. There were sliders and waffle fries and beer and wine. I had a slider and some fries. I could have eaten more but didn’t want to come across as a gavone. Other coworkers had seconds and I did not judge them for it. And I was still satisfied with the halal food I had a few hours before.
There were trivia games as well. In the last team-building party, I think last December, I did very well, and my teammates expected me to do as well as I did last time. I did ok.
Now I am home with Bill, watching 2001: A Space Odyssey. Or rather, 2001: A Space Odyssey is on, Bill is playing games on his iPad, and I’m typing this on my PC. He’s going away tomorrow, coming back nine days later. Mike will be stepping into Bill’s size 13 shoes.

A Google Gemini presentation in the manner of Lewis Carroll
**On the Curious Properties of Halal Carts, Punctual Runners, and the Belly of the Fruit Stand**
It was, by all available clockwork, a Thursday of the most distinctly Summery variety—the sort of day where the Sun insists on shining simply because it has nothing better to do, and the citizens walk about in a state of bustling importance, each thoroughly preoccupied with their own particular nonsense.
Having abstained from the local Halal Cart for a fortnight—a remarkably prudent interval, for as every logician knows, absence makes the spices grow fonder—I partook of their wares once more. Where previously the dish had suffered from a tragic lack of enthusiasm, today it possessed a most agreeable flavor! The merchants themselves greeted me as a long-lost friend, a mathematical certainty owing no doubt to two fixed principles: I invariably present them with the paper bag from my prior visit, and I administer my gratuities with an open hand.
Presently, my stomach was left to digest both the feast and the logic of the afternoon, which was further brightened by the precise, rhythmic appearance of handsome men. They paraded past at exact intervals of ten minutes apiece—first the accustomed runner of exceptional grace, followed by a gentleman dressed with alarming elegance, and concluded by yet another runner, as though produced by a well-regulated assembly line.
My employment, it appears, shall shortly require my presence in the *Belly of the Fruit Stand*—a curious cavern of industry where I am to reside from Monday through Thursday next, surrounded by a swirling vortex of visiting Artists. To prepare for this exile, I was obliged to attend a “Team-Building Party” in the selfsame Belly at precisely half-past four. I am, if nothing else, a creature of duty, though I deemed it necessary to change my undershirt upon arrival, as the weather had become quite sticky.
There were sliders, waffle-cut potatoes, and intoxicating liquors provided as a token of gratitude for our recent labors. While others partook with unrestrained enthusiasm, I restrained my appetite to a singular slider, lest I be mistaken for a *Gavone*—a monstrous creature known chiefly for its boundless greed. We engaged in games of Trivia, though my intellect, having shone so brilliantly during the December tournament, offered only a modest showing on this occasion.
As for the weekend, I harbor a grand ambition to go riding on Sunday, though the Meteorologists—a baffling guild of prophets who possess the unique distinction of being wrong precisely fifty percent of the time—predict a deluge of rain.
At present, I reside comfortably at home alongside Bill. The screen before us displays *2001: A Space Odyssey*, though Bill is thoroughly absorbed in a mechanical slate, and I am tapping away at my computing engine. Bill departs on the morrow for a span of nine days, leaving Mike to step directly into his size-thirteen shoes—a fit which I can only assume will require a great deal of balancing.