November 04, 2004

And San Francisco collectively said "aaah, shit,"...


And San Francisco collectively said “aaah, shit,” opened a bottle
of whisky and lit up. Natasha’s good champagne stayed in the fridge. Bill
slapped everyone on the arse and passed out. Melissa, artfully bombed on
cocktails, commented at one point, “Are we hurting America, or is America
hurting me?” Laurenn, black thunderclouds of doomy presentiment clustered
around her head, gave up and curled up. And the sky today is gloomy, for
the first time since I arrived. Nothing but grey over a subdued Castro.
The only happy people I’ve seen today are two staggeringly stoned lesbian
hippies who appear not to know which country they’re in. And while they’re
inside the coffee shop managing their munchies, the cops are ticketing
their hippiemobile on the street.

Game over. No extra life. Not for another four years, anyway.
sent from Treo/Tuesday, Castro, espresso