Friday, May 16, 2008

I feel I'm descending into a surreal dream world due to my insomnia. I have no idea what happened to me tonight. After work I was in Bryant Park talking to a stranger, I don't know her name or anything about her except she had an Apple laptop with a Hello Kitty sticker on it, and I was pointing at the clouds saying they were apocalyptic. Then I was at the International Center for Photography for an opening; Diane Keaton hosted it; I had wine and little snacks; I talked to a South African I was certain I already knew but didn't; I saw eerie shit like this. Then I went to Mike Edison's book party for I Have Fun Everywhere I go. There was a person in a full body gorilla suit. I saw John Reed. We both thought we knew each other, but we'd never met. I left. I came to be in possession of a strange, spiky asian fruit about the size and shape of a large balloon. This fruit is known as "the king of fruits" and is infamous for its terrible smell. I worked on the writing project that is not Strangelets. Ned was over. We watched the mesmerizing Soulja Girl video--several times. Ned stood on the fruit and it leaked air and began to smell like garbage. Sometime in here my phone rang. A number I didn't know. I answered and someone said "Nick?" Recently I had gotten really angry because some girl who had my phone number had given her cell phone to her friends and they woke me up trying to call another Nick, so I said, "Who is this?" But it turned out to be the talented Danny Franzese from Mean Girls and Bully, who had my number from a year ago in New Orleans and was looking for another Nick. Then Ned and I went uptown to have a drink. We took the spiky fruit. Everybody who saw it reacted. We ran into this guy Brian at one bar and he came with us to other bars. At the last bar I just started aggressively showing the fruit to people. A Spanish guy got in my face. "What is it? NO NO NO... what is it? What's in it??" He thought it could get him high, and he wanted it. But I didn't give it to him. I showed it to a group of people, eight or nine women, and they kept grabbing it and cooing over it. I wanted to smash it on the street. So Ned and Brian and I went outside. This crowd of women followed, fawning over the fruit. I threw it up in the air as high as I could and it fell back to the asphalt and burst, pus-like yellow innards spurting out. I tasted them. So did the braver girls. They tasted like fermented mango. One girl took a video of the whole thing. I want that video. Some other things happened too--we went to McDonald's and saw some British "chavs" harass some scantily dressed party girls.

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