sporadic fulfilment

i got asked twice if i wanted to buy weed within the first hour of moving in

we got a place on the 29th -- a mere day before the campground closed for the year...some random chick walking past the bench we were sitting on offered us her old place when she stopped to give me the armload of books & stuff she was getting rid of. stranger things have happened.

there's no kitchen & the place has mice (we're getting a kitten...aww) but it's on the ass end of the main strip & the building we're in (a hostel above a bar converted into apartments above a bar) is pretty much the nexus of smalltime drug-crime here so we feel right at home...

for a place that costs only $400 a month, it's actually not as bad as it sounds: it's bigger than the tent for one thing; the previous tenants were artsy hippies so the place is relatively bright & cheerful; one of our windows is right above a fancy glass sign that says "swingers" (it's for the squash club that shares the building) so we get to fuck around with tourists & tell them there's a bawdy house upstairs; there was a tv & some furniture left over, & we made a shitload of cool dumpster scores -- a plywood sign with the word "ART" on it that we've nailed over the bed, a turntable that i'm in the process of rehabilitating, christmas lights, etc.; & did i mention it's right above a bar?

posted by malachi trizec @ 10:10 a.m.