Jesus Christ, I had a really disturbing dream about K last night. Now I feel like even more shit and sad and whoa, I just realized that it'll be three years in exactly one month. Why the fuck am I talking about this? Internalize, Molly. It's good for what ails you.

Anyway.

So I went to New York a couple days ago.

OK, wait a second. I just remembered another part of the dream involved Jerkface dying in a car accident. And then I saw him, but I wasn't sure if he was actually alive or just back from the dead like K. Goddamnit. Why can't I have dreams like that Ice-T and pirate ship one anymore? That was an awesome dream.

Back to New York.

I think my reason for going can be summed up by one picture:

In other words, I ran out of whiskey.

I tried to write a lot when I was up there, but ended up with a whole lot of fragments and two empty cigarette packs. Personally, I blame the TV and indie shows on Canadian radio, not my complete ineptness at verbalizing emotional states.

OK, fuck this. I'm not good with words. I'm not good with pictures, either, but here's some anyway.

Here are some leaves in a tree on the side of the street. Oooooo.

The street.

This bridge is one of my favorite places in the world.

Unfortunately, the city closed it about three months ago.

Those fucks.

And now for the real reason behind my impromptu trip to Western New York...

(PS- The song quoted in the short description is my fucking anthem. Whomever gets the title of the song will receive a little something special. Like oral sex, but not as slutty. OK, oral sex. Whatever.)

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