08-13-04 - 10:48 p.m.
ate basque food in a historic old hotel in gardnerville tonight. drank picon. bought a ferret for spencer. bought a big eiffel tower painting. at home, a message on the machine from mike, the czar of the desert, the king of canals. call me, he says. i call him, and he talks incessantly about himself. when i can't listen anymore, i blurt; wanna make out like horny teenagers?
i don't have time, he answers, and proceeds for another ten minutes to tell me why.