Gotta get ready for work, but yesterday I saw another pile of dog poo that had been spray painted. This time it was a pepto bismol pink. The gold was prettier.
And on Sat night I was headed into the city on the L train when at 1st Ave a freak I had never seen before entered the train. The guy entered the train and announced that he was an alien and his spaceship had crashed onto our planet. He was wearing a couple of those headbands with things boinging off the top, had a huge bag attached to his back, and had a saxophone. AND! to top it off he had the cutest, tiniest kitten on his shoulder that was attached to him with a chain of shoestrings. He played his sax and told us that the tune was some sort of trance he was putting us under and we would feel the effects later. The act worked because quite a few people dug into their pockets and gave him some cash. And most of these people got off the train at Union Square, but I stayed on one more stop. I was treated to his version of Pop Goes the Weasel on the sax--it was actually pretty good.