Woke up in Brooklyn feeling like hell. Drowsy and morose all day. Pizza and beer made me feel a little better.
A girl named Melissa rolled me a cigarette and drank tequila. We talked about the Replacements. She was the bartender at Don Pedros. These sentences are completely out of order, and could have probably been written more interestingly concise. She plays in a band with one of the Vivian Girls.
I've been constantly sucking cough drops. I think this may be the first step to quitting smoking.
the Trashmen - "Sleeper"
We're staying with a guy named Nate, who is possibly my favorite host so far on this trip. I'll tell you all about him sometime. We talked about Uncle Tupelo and watched the Bills/Jets game. Or maybe it was the Vikings.
I'm exhausted, and can't, or don't want to, really remember today. Bodega, maybe. Coffee. Naps on black leather couches. Cigarettes cost ten dollars here. I'm tired of New York, and we're here until Wednesday. I kinda just want to go home. I know I'll feel differently tomorrow.
Matt flew here to meet up with us, and will be along for the rest of the tour. I'm not sure yet how I feel about this, as a certain sort of chemistry and balance has already been established. We'll see.
Too tired. I spent most of my day in silence. I've got enough to keep me busy. No use for words.
My blood's too thin for this shit. I want what I can't have. Perpetually. I'm so thirsty, y'know?
Melissa's band is called Flowers.
I need to call my mom tomorrow and remind her about my bank business.