Monday, May 4, 2009

raindrops are falling on my head

So I used to think that there was a time of night when, typically, the bar next door or one of the many vietnamese restaurants would drain whatever cold ice chest they were using to keep things frigid. It was almost a nightly sound, peering out my window, and with such Old-Faithful predictability it couldn't be just random street chaos.

Nope. 

It was somebody pissing. Probably every time.