Curiouser and curiouser

Saturday night was strangely surrealistic--or if not surrealistic, at least Monty-Python-meets-Benny-Hill-esque--and involved

• perpetual marathon runners (most of whom weren't running at all) blocking me wherever I went in my car,


• a 350+ lb. man in a belly-shirt blocking my view so that I couldn't see Karl Marx when he a) spoke or b) winced due to his boils,


• a pet baby-skunk, and


• a fire-alarm that someone pulled and which refused to be silenced, lending to our momentary inability to purchase alcohol.

Oh, but I am going to see Tom Waits on Aug. 13, which is unrelated but wonderfully surreal in its own respect.

I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I am.

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