Drinking coffee, psyching myself up to go out on the town, wondering if old flame's junkie pal from the psych ward is dead yet.

Peter Lorre, goddamn, classic, she would always treat me mean, so I bought a can of gasoline & c.

So glad my folks had a nice collection of records when I was growing up.

Pretty neat collection of stuff myself, nobody to share it with, sigh.

Hard to tell where the irony stops myself.

Maybe it never started.