i was reading with my door closed this afternoon when the mammal awoke...i could hear him stumbling around, and fumbling for the coffee filter...then he went to the sink and mumbled something low...a second later he repeated it in a loud sing-song voice..."its the [mammal] show!"...and indeed it was...next he started singing sly and the family stone at the top of his lungs, "thank you for lettin' me be myself, again" (singing the bass line as well)...and rounded it out with a few screeching lines from the sex pistol's song 'bodies'..."she was a girl from birmingham!"...then he mellowed for a few moments, began to drink his coffee, while blasting sabbath...with ozzy wailing in the background he paced the apartment working out new fragments of his act...they consisted of everything from dane cook to his hippie college days...(all i could really make out was the line, "don't you hate it when some crazy guy is trying to tell you that someone else is crazy")... finally he burst into my room, a little dazed, and said he was going to get the wireless computer receiver...i asked him to make sure it worked with a 'pc', and he responded, "how are you ever going to be a hipster with a 'pc'"...i responded that i wasn't a hipster...he brushed that off and referencing an old picture of me, the mammal, and p. guth from california a few years earlier, said how if he had only known about layered haircuts sooner he would have been famous by now...he saw i was reading a book about bill clinton and remarked, "i love the stories of bill eating and drinking with helmut kohl and boris yeltsin, all three of those guys just love life" and like a flash he was gone...

a brief note on monday's karoke...the song "suicide blonde" did not go over as well as he would have liked...about the experience mammal remarked, "i thought it would kill, but the response was lukewarm"...