New York, New York, TBA
I've become this desperate fool, pleading with married women to take me home with them at any cost. I've actually fallen to begging and throwing myself at their mercy and as Vicky says that's just not the way to win a woman's heart. But there's only so much you can do when you've been drinking triple martinis since six and you're feeling about as eloquent as the guy who chased after Kip in Philadelphia, unable to both hold his horribly stained pants from falling well below his waist and light a cigarette. Yes I am this charming.

No I'm sorry let me be more kind. I'm talking this way because I got very little sleep because I slept in an unfamiliar setting with this goddamned white poodle in the room next door who didn't trust me. I did not sleep well but the night was enjoyable, I stayed out very late with Kip and a friend of Dianogah's from Chicago who I decided early on to engage in wolf-like pursuit. All of this to no particular avail -- other than that, no kidding, she's a nice gal who I'm very glad to have have met -- but like I say it was an enjoyable evening. Now I'm in Chris Gillespie's office at Matador, waiting for my bandmates, who are most likely very concerned for me, since I wandered off at 3:00 A.M. and never did arrive home.

The show last night was all sorts of fun. It started well, we played well, there were lots of kids there including a few in the front who were absolutely swooning, the sound was fantastic both onstage and off. David Thomas was there! Well, he was in the building anyway. Earlier, you know, before we actually played.

Before the show I had 37 drinks with my friend Aislinn and her friend Christine. We started at Ear Bar and ended up at Double Happiness. The martinis at the dark and trendy Double Happiness were a full liter apiece, so we got them to go. Aislinn's recently started a straight job after decades of bartending. She took the martini jug and I went to the rock show.

We ended up playing a couple of encores. Andy had made a promise to Vicky that he would do his new dance onstage, and during Killing My Ass he started to get down. It was a riot. I laughed and laughed, and Tim couldn't watch the dance because he'd laugh s o hard he couldn't play. At the end of the song Andy dropped to his knees in a serious rock pose I didn't know he was physically capable of. Marc Attenberg, our host in Queens, leapt to the stage and imitated the new dance, eyes closed, shouting nonsense syllables while Andy writhed squealing on the stage. It was a madhouse! It was so fun that I began to wish we could play more shows. If they were always this fun I would want to do little else with my time, it was that fun.

Hundreds of us our going to the Yankees game on Sunday. Sunday is the big day off in the city. It'll be filled with fine food, dancing and entertainment. I may have a drink.

I keep thinking this journal is about an eighth as interesting as it should be but there's just not that much going on. Plus I'm updating the thing every fucking day, how interesting can life be? Not that interesting. But I'm sticking to my guns. S oon I'll find something exciting to discuss and I won't have to worry.

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