Greeting from Fecal Creek and the new studio.  Feels like the studio should have a name, but I haven’t thought of anything cool enough to call it.  The new computer is a monster though.  I’m inclined to call it Abulafia.

I have found it almost impossible to get good Chinese food not only in The Creek, but in the entirety of Anhedonia County (which, in case you didn’t know, dear reader, is fucking huge).  But I may have found a solution.  It’s from this place called “Chinese Food.”  See, Fecal Creek is similar to the rest of suburban California is that is composed largely of often massive single-story strip malls, and the stores in these malls, at least the signage of these stores are often not actual proper business names but typically simply more cost-effective descriptions, e.g., “Liquor,” or, in this case, “Chinese Food.”  I called for delivery last night, and ended up talking to the owner of “Chinese Food,” a man named Bong whom I am not entirely convinced is actually Chinese, and with whom I got into an incredibly deep philosophic discussion with truly astounding speed as I was simply trying to order dinner.  Anyway, I got some garlic noodles and Mongolian beef, and it was fucking delicious. And Bong gave me a ton of each for about $7, which, if you’re trying to stretch your pandemic dollar, is helpful.

The weather here is still ridiculous.  The dead of winter and it’s clear as a bell and in the 60s.  It’s going to be yet another year where I waste the winter waiting for it to show up and then it’s just spring.

N.P.: “Type” – Living Colour