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Today was good, but mostly pointless. Went out for a big breakfast with friends, and then just kind of wandered around looking for a black sweatshirt hoodie, didn't find the kind I need. I did find a nice fountain pen, which satisfied my consumerist cravings. Also, my slamp got a new haircut at this really weird cold war era barber shop, and it came out kind of regulation. Not bad, just sort of cleancut and very aggressively tidy. Now I call him "fly boy" and "top gun" and chide him about being his wing man. Glee!

It got really cold really fast today, and I went out with nothing warmer than a t-shirt, as usual. doi. When I got home with groceries, I found my hausmate and a friend in the kitchen with all kinds of clay and buckets everywhere. They had made a mold of hausmate's face and they were preparing to make a kind of weird latex mask somehow with it. The next time I went in there, hausmate was sculpting a kangaroo muzzle on to her face-mold, which I found most distressing. NOT RIGHT. NO FURRIES PLEASE. A little later on, chupchup called me up and told me he'd just met Patricia something-or-other uh, Morrison from the Sisters of Mercy, and he was giddy about it. It was kind of bizarre hearing him so happy. Giggling and stuff.

I just ran across an online version of a really funny buttsex article I read a while back in Vice.