I stood in line at in Caffè in Gamba with Keaton today. Fifteen minutes for a single shot of espresso that turned his lips and teeth and tongue orange. It felt like walking three quarters of a mile for a drag of a cigarette.

and then we got lost behind the mountain.







In other news, I found a place to live:



I'm pleased. Though I took a few tumbles before/after Faggity
()
on friday and my entire right arm is hurt along with various cuts and bruises. I should learn not to sprint when drunk. or at least to avoid the pebbles.