Hung out with Trisa in Hillcrest yesterday where the faux-Mardi Gras crowd consisted of one guy in a pokka-dotted dress and a clown wig with Christmas ornaments around his neck. I mean the big glass ball kind. If that poor bastard tripped, just imagine how badly he'd cut his neck up . . . All that just for San Diego's Mardi Gras.
Talked to Olivia the cat last night. It seems that, so long as she doesn't see my face (which I hid behind a chair), she lets me pet her. It's kind of a father confessor relationship we have.
I have so very many things I want to do to-day, so I'll start by keeping this entry short, and then going for coffee.
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