Tornado

Biggie ran away. Or it's dead in the apartment somewhere. I also feel like I'm more sensitive to the smell of cat urine than the average person. Walking down the street, I often catch a whiff of that unmistakable stench. He touched my life in a big way, in so little time. Good luck Biggie Smalls, I hope you're not giving kitty blow jobs to make rent.

The Brooklyn Public Library is quite satisfactory. I found everything I wanted, except they wouldn't give me a library card unless I had some evidence that I live in the area. The bike ride to the library is fairly short, but Bedford Ave. just north of me becomes a nightmare, as it's undergoing road work. Eastern Pkwy has a bike lane on the median between the main and access road, so the bikes and pedestrians share the space. Packs of women with their strollers congest bikes-only lane, and they look at you like you're only there to hurt their children.

Moe and I went to Williamsburg to see a show, but didn't end up going. We had beers in the park and more drinks at a bar. Beer and a shot for $5. I wish that place was next door to me. That night we stole a bench in Flatbush and put it in the apartment. It seemed like a great idea at the time, but now we have a giant, yellow, metal bench in our  living room. And there couldn't possibly be a more uncomfortable object to sit on. The next day we went to FAO Shwarz. It wasn't as impressive as I remember from my visit as a kid, but apparently they downsized the store. Also, I'm sort of like an adult, and it's a toy store made for kids. I played the big piano as an homage to the cinematic classic. That day, we were caught in a rain storm in Manhattan, leaving us drenched within two minutes. But apparently there was a tornado in Brooklyn at that time. You can check out this video where grown men giggle and scream for 3 minutes: