This evening, I checked out an old man's ancient porn VCD collection and then tried to talk another into selling me an old Nokia cell phone for $3 at the Thieves' Market. When I got tired, I watched a group of evil loser teens try to burn each other with their high- tar, duty- unpaid cigarettes, as I sipped on lemongrass tea. Then one of them with a mohawk walked over, and started talking to me as if we used to go to kindergarten together, or something. My fascination with his mohawk eventually wore off. Instead of excusing myself for a minute while I pretended to take a call, I excused myself for forever and caught a train into the heartland.
On the train, I thought about the last time I ate rice- A few nights ago, picking at the grains that had fallen off Andrew's plate. So, maybe I'm not a rice person.
That's all! Sleep sweet, everyone.
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