ones and zeroes

Better living through modern chemistry.

12.27.2004

living up to the name.

Tumbleweed's brain is a fuzzy fuzzy mess right now. It's been three Jewish days of smoky Christmas hedonism. If I'd been designing religion back when they were planning the whole racket, I'd have thrown in breath along with body and blood of Christ...nibble a wafer, sip some wine, take a toke. Not much different - whole lot better. Well anyway, in true messianic fashion, Larry rose from the ashes of a doomed weekend to meet the call to hang out, the call to smoke on New York City rooftops, the call to wander aimlessly down barren winter avenues in the chill hours between 2 and 4 AM, with a Hunter's Moon shining lunacy down upon us.

Upon arrival, Larry being two hours late (true to custom), we went to 7A were I wolfed down an Austrian and he leisurely sipped a White Russian. I flashed back to the last time we'd parted physical company, when our last moments together were spent drinking coffee and eating old fashioned donuts in Dunkin' back in Jackson Heights. Both instances made me imagine us as old men, doing the exact same thing, talking about...well, everything. So here's to growing old with Larry, cheers. Drinks and dinner finished, we made our way with the swiftness up to Lucy and Eileen's rooftop for a gorgeous night time view, a smoke and a clove cigarette. I'm reminded of that, Filter was it?, magazine article on Interpol, where they were all photographed on actual NYC fire escapes and roofs. Well yeah. Roofs give a city experience like no other and it was great being on top of one with Larry and the green monster once more. After some video games and an aborted attempt to watch David Byrne's True Stories, we took the aforementioned long walk. Up from 9th and A to 2nd and 16th, to Park and 20th, to Broadway, all the way downtown and back to Veselka for midnight muffins. The night capped off with an often-jumbled, occasionally-awesome jam session with Larry on sound module and Tumblehawk on his brand new keyboard. Techno dance party to the max.

Sleeping from 7 AM to 3:45 PM takes its toll on anybody, so I recovered with some videogames after Larry left and went to dinner with the pops and the awesome sisters, to some crazy French African place called Les Enfants Terribles. My dinner was called Korhogotefemougar! No, that's not snails marinated in pigjuice, it's actually a damn good steak rubbed in all these crazy African spices with yuca fries and this crazy dipping sauce. Two thumbs up.

It is now Monday morning, at 1 in the afternoon, the combustible supplies are running low and there is still nothing to do, no one is in the city, so I'm off to find a way to kill time until the Leafcutter show later tonight at Piano's. Goodbye.

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