i brought that movie 12 Monkeys today for $4.00. that works out to about three monkeys for a dollar. which is a bargain anyway you slice it.

i also brought brownie-flavored walnuts. i bet you didn’t know that the world needed  brownie-flavored walnuts. i bet you thought that mankind could have existed perfectly happily without knowledge brownie-flavored walnuts ever being a possibility, didn’t you?

well you were wrong: it did, we couldn’t, and they’re awesome. respectively.

the rain’s been non-stop in the bay for what seems like forever. every night i’m lulled to sleep by a the muted rattle of a million tiny sparks on the skylights and every morning i’m greeted by another exploded tail light. (you see, the water gets in and….well, its a long story)
and so the either the ever-present rain or rotating calender has brought a strange shift in the wind, cleansing the streets and — incidentally — washing my immunity away with it, through the gutters, along with the dead leaves and oil-slick rainbows. so thus it has been: cup of Alka-seltzer in my hand. trusty umbrella by my side. funky green crap in my lungs.
the 24th street manor affords ample cultural and sightseeing opportunities, as it is situated directly behind the soup kitchen and around the corner from the Greyhound bus station. nestled under the smog-gray shadow of the interstate. just kissed on one corner by the homeless tent city. we haven’t been approached by Triple A Auto Club seeking to make it a family vacation destination just yet, but with amenities like this, surly its only a matter of time.
we don’t see much of ol’ shaky anymore. one day he was shuffling along like usual, at the rate of Cm per second (like when some poor 8-bit video game character gets trapped off the grid.), shuffling into walls and around corners, and then, somehow he just shuffled out of out lives. but didn’t really change things much, in the great scheme of things, i suppose. maybe he finally got to wherever it was that he was going. maybe he’s shuffling behind that big dumpster in the sky. who knows.
i will miss Paper Paper Mache man, though. almost as soon i knew of his existence and had time to gawk over him and point him out to whoever was in the car for a few weeks, he was gone. Paper Mache man slept under the freeway in front of his tarp. and he as not unique in that. nor was it incredibly unusual that he built life sized paper sculptures of humans, i guess. what was a bit strange was that he had decided to build himself a “lady friend” with whom he shared sleeping quarters. you could just see the top her plaster head poking out from the blankets next to his.

but it seems the rain’s taken him away, too. all but some remnimants of white paper stumps on the sidwalk.