pitt was late, stuck in traffic, so we shared a sausage and i finished doing my makeup in front of some classy baseball fans near the fountain.

last game of the season.

keith richards beer guy, total celeb, has a signature style of calling out ICE COLD BEER and everyone claps for him.

i was going to say these aren’t even worth stealing (highly doubt anything lost at the rogers centre is ever found or searched for so yes i can sleep at nite) but then i remembered pitt and his premature-aging and his poor wife having to look at miles of crow’s feet from his constant squinting so…

what’s going on neo?

hey rick james.

nice how it brings out the dark circles under your eyes.

on to the bedford, lets play who had what. chicken curry, pad thai, hamburger.

no no totally not greasy.

thank you present for samir.

yesterday i was a condo prisoner, no keys, so all i had was espresso and a handful of dorito crumbs, things were getting shaky there near the end. gues it’s time to give that thing a wash, i am the only one who does it.

then fil came home with sustenance.

you’d never be able to tell by how arty i made this look that it came from this: