if it comes in a bag, it's not real

summer's over, so am i

for the second time in my neighborhood in a week, i have been followed for several crowded blocks by a pudgy thug who upon catching up to me asks first if i've seen [insert generic name here], who is supposed to get him That Bag, then if i know where he can get A Bag, promising he will Hook Me Up with a share of the contents if i can provide some much-needed baggage-claim assistance

either this is some ham-handed attempt at a setup by someone who's employed a hive of pudgy thugs & didn't get the memo that i went out of that business a long time ago, or the next generation of pudgy thugs is actually dumb enough to try to score drugs on the street in fucking williamsburg, from me of all people

this is beginning to creep me out, but i am also considering carrying small baggies of confectioners' sugar, "just in case"
i mean, ask a stupid question, get a stupid bag, right?

my hard drive lives
now, to remember how to breathe
[motherboard overheated--suddenly my response to the disaster in which i placed my computer immediately in the refrigerator upon returning to discover its corpse makes sense--who says there is no psychic link between electronic devices & their owners? NOT I]

electronic apocalypse on BRODAWAY, part 2: first my mp3 player then my hard drive drop fucking dead with no warning leaving me with no music & nothing backed up from the last several months of whatever the fuck i've been doing for the last several months
gag me with a syringe kthx
panic will ensue shortly after the repair-asshole arrives, takes my $95 service fee, & tells me my hard drive is dead--until then i am going to pretend to nurture some last flame of hope! can you smell the delusions emanating from my pores? is this a rhetorical question?

music reviews should not contain hello kitty figure skates that double as razor blades, or psychoanalysis of eyes that roll back into their owners' heads, but sometimes they do

( the lavatory has been locked for three hours solid, i think they're using it for an operating room )

( snacktime in hell: a dramatic saga of love, loss, & lard on the brooklyn-queens expressway overpass )

i am a neurological joke

reminder: "just once for old time's sake" does not apply when old times were less than a week ago