My new amulet, to keep away evil spirits and jerks and kitter-hating meanies:
Thank you, local junkshop! This pendant it too cool for school—and has magical powers yet untapped (I’ll keep you posted).
Radigan and Rob and I nommed on some frites and crepes and beers at Ravenous after spending a languid hour or two in the park, under the sun of the first day of Spring. Eli made like a drug smuggler, crawling across the field on crazed vectors to eat grass and yell at little kids who clamored to try and pat him. Only one actually made hand-to-fur contact; I was impressed.
Oh and we played a ton of Kadima. Bummed none of this was documented; I was on fire.
We cruised up the street and, with a solid Ommegang buzz, strolled into Reruns where I fondled this gargantuan necklace I’d spotted last week.
Radigan almost snatched a vintage typewriter; I still think he needs to have it. Oh man—I just sounded like a junk shop owner. That’s how they reel you in—make you think you’ve got some sort of cosmic connection to the dusty crap in there. But, yeah, he needs that typewriter.
Rob grabbed my wrist as I reached toward a stained, lace-up suede tunic [Robin, I sniffed the pits and they were clean, I swear] but was too distracted by the heavily accented gentleman informing him of why cars are dinosaurs and drilling for oil is archaic to stop me from snatching up this amazingly ridiculous amulet.
Copper, so far as I can tell, with a carved stone face that says “Quit it, bitch, I’m sleeping here,” and a perfect shade of blue. History unknown, but I like it that way.
Happy weekend, mofos.