I'm on the bus and it smells of a seafood market in here. There's a punk with a pompadour sitting in front of me and I'm resting the notebook on my copy of White Crow. The Court of the Crimson King is playing on my ipod. I'm nearly finished White Crow. After over a month of reading, I'm finally about done with three short stories and three novels in one book. I'm going to miss the characters. Casaubon in particular.
The punk with the pompadour just got off the bus. My sideburns are bigger than his.

It's past two in the morning and I just finished a plate of sausages and eggs. This is goddamn living.

So I has a cat. She's very cute, very affectionate and talkative, and just a tad nervy. She was having a bit of trouble settling down over the weekend but I think with a bit of help from the vet we've worked everything out. She's sleeping in the bathroom right now, after I calmed her down because she got all agitated when a big field cricket flew in through the gap in the window.