FRIDAY NIGHT 10:21pm

no gig. no girlfriend in this geograpical area. nothing good on The Box - i refuse to watch The Hunt For Red October again. lots of work to do that i don't want to do. kid is in Massachusetts so can't play with him. a friend's hurtin' but i can't do anything about it. friends are playing, but too far away for me to get there on time. returned all my calls. still can't get Matt Wells on the phone tho, so no make-work trip into Manhattan to drop off my blown-up AC30 chassis. no food in the Koolerator. traffic jam by the Lincoln Tunnel means the Thai delivery guy will get lost again taking the backroads thru Weehawken, and if he ever shows up, the grunts will be stone cold. also means it really doesn't matter that Matt Wells didn't call. there's something wrong with my cd player, so no tunes. the old AM radio works, but WNYC-AM is fund-raising. PBS is fund-raising again, too...please tell me how that Wrinkle Cure guy is educational? i have read every book in the house. there's a three-week old Economist i haven't read...don't really care what happened three weeks ago in Bulgaria anyway. i know what you're thinking i could do, but i'm not in the mood for that either. the place is a mess, but don't feel like cleaning it up. just busted a low E guitar string - don't have a spare and i'm not Keith Richards, so to hell with five-string G tuning. out of smokes...tho i'm trying not to smoke but not having smokes makes me not not want...oh forget it...too confusing.

i guess this is called resting. but i don't "do" resting.

NP: nothing

PEEVE DE JOUR: two hours and thirty-eight minutes worth of Friday left...

N.B.A.T.W.P.: if i knew, i wouldn't be writing this.