I posted one of these pictures on Facebook and lied about my activities. Would it be okay to say I was pooping? Maybe I wasn’t and I just want to shock you. Maybe I am and I am still afraid of the taboo of poop to admit it. How dare you all discriminate against poop.
Anyway, I was in a fancy restaurant in East Village, New York that served a $25 salmon filet with two pieces of asparagus and a boom box that’s not supposed to look like a boom box playing jazz. I probably could have made it at home and listened to the same jazz for zero of the price. I unfortunately would not have gotten to be served by a blonde chin-length hair-do with a woman in some rose-colored blush bought either from Nordstrom or a local Farmer’s Market probably with some hidden mental disorders attached underneath it. I also would have missed sitting next to a photojournalist who lived in Egypt for a year and likes the Boston Globe. She didn’t actually tell me this. I was eavesdropping. Mostly because she ignored me when I started talking to her. Actually, more like ignored then went outside to “smoke something” with her friends.
Anyway, here is another angle of my on the toilet:
Here is another one: