DC Fat Darrell

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Weird thing was that I wrote a short story about a decade ago about a fairy godmother that I swear I told him about. But his version and mine’re vastly different.

Lemme know whatcha think.

Got a call at 1AM the other night from the girlie that I chatted to on a Gramercy stoop. She said I was one of the only people she trusted not to screw her over. Took that to heart and stayed awake to talk to her.

Question: What’s the only mammal that can’t jump?

Went to a house party on a roof the other night. Something about the NYC skyline y’can’t get elsewhere. But went to DC afterward anyway.

DC was nice. Hot. Very hot. Spent mosta the time in the museums: Natural History and American History. Place was packed; kinda gives y’hope about the future if the museums’re packed, yeah?

Managed to score a suite at the GWU Inn; had a view of Watergate. Ugly as sin.

The room was a suite cause it had a stove and fridge, meaning that we loaded up at the Trader’s Joe around the way. Then, on the way back, stopped off at Rutgers to get a Fat Darrell.

Felt like a tubster so wrestled today. If one’s 36 with a broken middle finger, injured neck, and tennis elbow, you’d think one’d not wrestle with 20-year olds at 99% humidity.

Then again, making good choices isn’t my thing.

Anywho, a client finally called me today. Heading upstate tomorrow to try to make some scratch.

Oh, and…elephant.

Location: 12:00, getting pinned on 27th
Mood: hot
Music: let’s get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France