Brain dead

Lucky you.
Looks like im too awake to try and catch a couple hours kip before my plane trip so i intend on writing something out. This story should be interesting as theres no initials and most of it is rambling. Oddly enough it involves a transvestite again. I can promise you its not a reoccuring theme. At least not one that im conscious of.

Seems to have been a somewhat uneventful evening. Apparently I yet again won the heart of some poor old girl (why are they never young and/or rich?) who looks as if shes on her deathbed. She keeps flirting with me and giving me copious amounts of popsicles. Who is this wandering minstrel?

I can honestly interject that i have no clue where a patient, as ill as she was, was getting popsicles from. Im baffled.

I have Brain disease again (aka CJ, mentioned in a previous post), so there is not much to report. Here are several highlights of the evening

- Ol CJ attempted to eat my dinner. Not funny guy. I know your sick but im making minimum wage. Youre food is free guy. Free. Eventually i fed him crackers and peanut butter (i helped him eat them).

- A male nurse who looked like a cross between one of my old bosses and Malcolm McDowell. He made several bags of popcorn and absolutely insisted that everyone must have some. This of course was one of his many nitpickings. I honestly believe that he wasnt gay either although ALOT of signs pointed to yes.

-During my second break I watched a tv program about people that wanted to look like Barbie and altered their bodies to do so.

- I saw a visitors wig that reminded me of my 2003 New Years spent in Toronto. We had spent much of it at the Dance Cave (i was not in the know, as i currently am, god im so cool now) for some sort of Mod night. Our boy Fraze was in fine form and had made out with several ladies on teh dance floor and had disappeared. We decided we had had enough (they stopped serving) and headed back to his. Of course we didnt have keys to get into his building or his apartment. Sweet. Somehow we managed to get in through a fire escape. As it was late we decided to sleep in the hall thinking he would return soon. Wrong. Not long after the drunken slumber began we were woken by his neighbour or at very least his neighbours guest. A particularly tall and broad transvestite.
I can smell it like it was yesterday. She had a strange scent of a sweet sweet perfume mixed in with some sort curry spice (hijra anyone?). Startled I began to attempt to explain that we were there with legitimately and with legal intentions. Sympathetic to our plight, the kind soul brought us some pillows with which we could rest our heavy heads. We were woken by our friend in teh early morn, with Rob not remembering the incident at all.

Perhaps it never happened?

Regardless we were kind enough to return the pillows with a letter letter of thanks.

THANKS AGAIN PRETTY LADY, WHERE EVER YOU ARE! (prob in TO)

In her honor i have posted some Sylvester and several other like minded artists (ive played out Antony in this blog).


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