rock over London. rock on, Chicago.

got back last night.

the plane wasn’t so bad this time. I watched “Shooter” and “Ghost Rider” on the flight from London.
I watched “Ghost Rider,” for fuck’s sake.
sat next to a Nepalese woman who didn’t speak any English and eventually went to sleep on my shoulder. she smelled funny … or so I thought. turned to Mar and was whispering, “Mar, this woman is rank.” but then, it turns out? it was Mar. yes!
now, I didn’t mention this before, but I’d been having some, uh, digestive problems for the last week in Europe. I couldn’t take a shit, man. and it wasn’t for a lack of trying. I mean, I ate well over there, and I was getting concerned.
but then, mom picked us up at the airport. she brought White Castle. it was awesome. when we got home, there was Kool-Aid and jello in the fridge. potato and macaroni salad.
this is a volatile mix of foodstuffs.
needless to say, my digestive problems are problems no more.

alright. I’m going to shave. all of it.