Missin' me slatsky droogs.

Hey remember clockwork orange and how "daring" and "sickening" it was supposed to be? Now it practically reads like a saturday afternoon special what with all the other gut-wrenching mind trips out there like the Paul Bernardo movie for example. There seems to be a petition circulating and, frankly, I don't blame them. I am missin' me slatsky droogs though but not for the ol' in n' out.



Today suddenly things got a bit colder. Literally not figuratively. I'm surprised considering the sun that we've had since I arrived. Anyway, I hope it comes back. Now the air is thick with pollution and fog. It is nice to have a little moisture in the air though. My skin was beginning to feel like a mandarin orange after it's been left out for too long and the inner fruit is all dry and separated from the peel. Luckily, I found this Mexican hat that will not only help me blend in with the locals, but will keep my head warm in this in-climate weather.

It's funny, when you've been away for awhile (it may surprise some that I find a month to be a long time, but I'm not used to being away for these kinds of lengths of time.) You realize that you were attached to some strange things. The things that stick in my memory seem like the most trivial stuff and the things that I don't miss are sometimes the things that I always imagined I would. Like for instance, the mountains. I don't really miss them or Stanley Park either. I mean, on any given year in Vancouver, I'd be lucky to go to either place maybe two times total and it was usually raining. I don't miss Kits. I don't even miss commercial drive. I do miss the brickhouse pub though; those crappy couches and lava lamp bubblers. If a place here has couches, it'll be some art deco affair. Uh, I miss 99 cent pizza if you can believe it although it's not so much a "missing" feeling but maybe it sparks some kind of nostalgia. I can remember clear as day huddling in those steamy eat spaces crowded in with other drunks and late night desperadoes. I distinctly remember the funny moment when you were about to bite into slice #1 of your two slice ticket standing there with nowhere to sit, wet and dripping drunk and just as you bite into that cardboard crust your eyes meet with another patron about to do the same and there was this slight feeling of camaraderie; a sort of sad sack inner knowing, a sort of "it comes down to this doesn't it?" kind of thing. Two people, inches away, not talking, strangers no less, stuffing their gullets like bovines, listening to the urgent, slurping mastication and smacking of lips. ... Hmmm.. Needless to say, I'm sure a similar experience can easily be found here in Mexico City. If San Francisco was built on Rock and Roll as "Starship" told us, Mexico City certainly was built on the 99 cent "quick fix". There's no end to the steaming stalls and lunch counters surrounded by late night half drunk patrons and wal mart christmas oscillations. Sometimes they've got a TV wired up. It all has this Blade Runner kind of vibe, it's awesome.