The pizza is prohibiting me from posting something amusing here. Pretend I was mugged by a hooker.
: hello E. River. I'm Terry. Oh, there's Manhattan
at the museum of modern art, with a party with an exponential number of hipsters. And beer. And truth. And ugliness. And beauty.
At a beer garden in an old warehouse in Queens. I've never been to Queens.
did not fall out of the loft, nor did he use the bottle. He still doesn't know how to get off of here.
sitting on the deck on the upper west side.
now understands why priests are advised to *not* say the Canon from memory. Not only do you not say it right, but you go so *slowly*
at Mass in St. Pat's. No Dolan, sadly.
enroute to NYC. Go MegaBus!
I see summer has returned to DC. What a shame.