The lovely folks over at Diamond Parking have bent me over again, sans Vaseline. OK .. "at" may be a misleading term, as they are more of a permeating virus than a location. I went to have tasty bevy with patty jo the other night at the Bier Sty on 11th. There is a massive friendly empty lot next to the place. After a quick glass of vino, i notice a love note on my windshield. Closer inspection reveals a 30 dollar violation. I look around and sure enough there's a miniscule sign dangling on a pole at the far entrance. This is not the first time they have screwed me. For a privately owned business that exclaims "we care", that family must be wiping their chocolate starfishes with hundred dollar bills.
current mood: "Hey diamond, go eat a shit sandwich."
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Last night I really wanted to see Jordans project at sam bonds and had every intention of going. I stopped at Max's and ended up kicking asses on the pooltable until i couldn't do it anymore. Sometimes its easier to have a night talking to people you don't know or want to get to know and just leave it at that. Went home and put a further dent on Murakami's Kafka on the Shore. Stellar read. Sorry Jordy ... i'll catch you next time.
Today I am trying to bust ass on work so I don't go into freakout mode this week. It's muggy and I have PMS. my skin is sweating coffee.
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