High Profile Rocker, Motherfuckers.

Today has been a Rocket to Russia kind of a day. It has also been, like most days lately, a Leonard Cohen kind of day.

I went to Borjo for the first time in what seems like forever. Great times... saw some familiar faces, though we didn't really talk. Tried to read the New Yorker but was disappointed by everything I read. The comics were tired and boring. The poetry was HORRIBLE. I can't imagine worse poetry. It was like something that I would have written except way more lame. I think it might have been a fake issue. The best part of my day so far was reading Calvin and Hobbes. I laughed out loud at least a dozen times. I wonder what it would take to give Bill Watterson some fucking awards. I mean, the man is responsible for the best comic strip of all time without even any real contenders. The only comic that is as re-readable to me is the PBF, which is so ridiculous that it's not even fair to compare them. I have had dozens of times that I was reading Calvin and it really made me think about deep and eternal issues. And everyone feels the same way, even dumb people.

I also had some amazing "self-discovery" on the drive home. Yesterday I decided that I would like to move to New York City for a year and not smile once. For a whole year. How cool would that be... then I could move to the Mediteranean and smile non-stop for a whole year. Hello Franchesca, I love you. Psh.

Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder... and bird is the word.

Thank you day, thank you week month bored.