The champagne is gone, the whiskey is a go-going down my throat, and it appears that Mr. B himself has, at long last, entered the fray. After writing that linoleum story, I’ve been staring at the hardwood floors with some uncertainty.

1. I should note that the Burgess beverage has caused me to burp quite a lot. I’m not really in the habit of burping, but if anyone should seriously consider this noxious beverage as a drink of choice, they may wish to know this.

2. I looked out the window about ten minutes ago and saw that some folks across the street were moving. The house with the interesting pink glasswork on the windows. Seeing them, I went outside and asked them if they needed any help. Foolishly, they assented. I carried two boxes and when they noticed that I was stumbling with the box, they asked me to leave. It’s a fair cop. The last thing you need when you’re moving on a Saturday night is some drunken stranger stumbling about with your possessions. I asked them if they wanted any of the stout and they insisted that I leave. So much for public community.

3. There is a noticeable misstep in my gait.

4. I’m wondering if should hie to my neighborhood bar.

5. I haven’t really been thinking about sexual possibilities. I wonder what’s wrong. Have I become resigned?

6. Battle Royale II has been on pause now for two hours. I’m thinking it’s not worth it.

7. I had intended to write about Mike Leigh’s films, but I’m not sure if I’m pellucid enough.

8. Ideas here are always welcome.

9. There is a lot of water in the fridge, come what may.