May 15, 2000.  Monday

 

    I'm sitting here watching a Chris Rock special on HBO.  For my money, the funniest standup I've ever seen.  I haven't seen it since last summer, when Rodzilla and I were at Matt's apartment in July.  What I liked about Matt's place was the air conditioning. It was so fucking cold.  But I was dying from the heat from earlier in the day.  Rodzilla and I were at Great Adventure America.  Very ghetto.  I don't recommend it.

    Anyway, a small number of tasks accomplished today.  Among the ever so interesting feats performed were: writing a check to MCI for $1.06, taking a walk around the neighborhood, and buying a monkey wrench to fix the shower.  The shower really needed to be fixed.  It was spouting really soft on one side, and streaming like a water pick on the other.  It hurt a lot.  Plus, I've always wanted a monkey wrench.  I don't know why.  Maybe tools just make me feel more manly.
I'm also fond of the Foo Fighters song "Monkeywrench."

    During my walk, I found a new little restaurant, or "lounge" as it's advertised, on 11th st.  It's called Blah Blah.  It shows a bit of promise.  I need a new hangout.  There's an open mic night on Wednesdays that I want to check out.  There's a miniscule chance that I might someday muster the courage to play.  But most likely not by myself.  I want to check out the scene first though.  I'm curious as to what sort of artistic community resides in Park Slope.  I really hope it's not a bunch of spoken word performances.  i really hate that stuff.

    Anyhow, for the 5th time in a week, I'm going to try to get up at 6 to go running.  Didn't happen again today. I'm not sure what's wrong.  I can completely tune out my alarm now.  It's very odd.  Maybe tomorrow.
 

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