bub-uhl-ish-us

i've been feeling not quite right since eating some 'mediterranean shrimp' at an eye-talian restaurant with great aunty last night. we were going to go across to the vietnamese joint but there were picketers out front protesting low wages and i didn't want to be a line crosser. surely i exploit people every day (only unwittingly) but what if someone more righteous than i saw me enter the joint—oh, the shame i'd feel. the humiliation! and i call myself a humanitarian. ha!

anyways, when i awoke this morning i felt itchy and my arms were a little red. now they're no longer that color but still a little itchy and i feel like i need a soda, bring up a bubble and such. maybe i've developed an allergy. and maybe i could hire someone to pick me up, over the shoulder style, like they do the babies, and burp me.

now it's warm again and everyone has done that pavlovian thing and dug out their flip-flops. i have them too. i would not wear them to work, though. my feet are nice and all but i don't need to display them on the subway and mix with the grot of the streets of nyc.

i gots no more to say. i just wants to sleep.