Butter Bastard is my name. Ever since I was a lad all I've cared about is eating delicious foods, eating them until I feel sick. Once I become full, I proceed to walk around and do jumping jacks until there's room in my stomach, and then I eat again until I feel sick. What other purpose can there be in life?
Yesterday, Sunday, April 5, it was. A nice day. In the clouds and with the wind blowing slightly chilly, but in the sun and without the wind pleasant. I had plans to go to Streetbird, Marcus "the scarf" Samuelson's newest rotisserie chicken joint in "Harlem" (it's on Frederick Douglass and 116, so nominally Harlem). It was mid-afternoon and we would dine at 7pm, and I was hungry. I fed at Black Seed Bagel on Elizabeth Street. A plain bagel with egg, bacon and cheddar was what I ordered. It cost a ridiculous $9. It was goodish but any bagel sandwich which cost $3 would have been as good.
I'm tired of writing this.
