7/28 Jarmies

Didn't leave my PJs today, despite the gaping wound in the crotch. I put in a couple good hours of work and got the first 2,400 words of Phylloxera to a point I was happy with, then worked on a letter to Jenny Lewis and some other odds and ends with Alan Jackson for company (why did Marco send me this? And why did I listen to it?). Ulysses still makes me feel like a zombie, but I Started Coetzee's The Master of Petersburg; that dude knows how to write. By page 3 I was completely sucked in. Holy Gruel, I have so much to learn.

Finished the bottle of White Eagle Polish vodka that Martina and I bought yesterday. The intention was for her, Sophia-darling, and I to drink V&Ts and abstain from Rohan's welcome back party on account of the bar's horrendous cover charge. But Soph capitulated, leaving Martina and I to drink most of the bottle last night. I finished the job today by making dodgy boilermaker-esque bevvies out of boxed red wine and shots of vodka. Then I was tired and it was time to sleep.

Drink Count: 8

This happens to be one of my most favorite recent pictures. I've taken almost none since I got back, so you're stuck with online comics or recycled traveling shots or kait pictures until further notice. Hey, if I don't go outside for days at a time, it's god damn hard to photograph much.