it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.
in this life like weeds...aw fuck. today is a fucking wash from about 9 am till 6 pm. picture me at the bookstore telling fucking idiots good advice about books & watching them shrug it off like it ain't nothin' doing. some fucking jack-ass said he didn't read anything that didn't have a twist ending because it insulted his intellegence. the same fucker who ranted & raved about the da vinci code but said he thought the encryption in cryptonomicon didn't make anysense. sorry for that "history" in your historical fiction, loser! on top of that, christopher elected to go to the museum with his mother rather than come to work at all, even a little, so basically i had 8 hours of bordem & loneliness to myself. arn't i legislated like, breaks & shit? i really should be paid a reasonable wage. fuck it though. david saves the day. i mean, i hate & resent him (& jenny) for doing the book expo thing, but at least they come bearing gifts. well maybe i can be bribed? i can't be wounded, that is for sure. after work i go for drinks with fmf, then part ways park slope bound. i stop at jfk chicken again. last time they wanted my advice about computers. this time the issue on the table is david blaine's magic. whatever. my broken face is how we found out that guy was my doppleganger. at home, jenny stayed up to reward my good boyfriendry. which is amazing, since i'm a total useless grump. we watch movies.