1. We have a new neighbor, he lives on the ground floor. When I was downstairs on Saturday the entire lobby was perfumed with the unmistakeably odor of Ms. Mary Jane, and that's only the start. While I was at the Chain Saturday night he had an enormous house party and was sending guests up three flights of stairs to use OUR bathroom. Drunk people, apparently, were stumbling into our apartment, no questions asked. We've never met this guy, he hasn't had the courtesy to introduce himself. I'll call him Gatsby.
Five complains later, by the way, his party is busted up. Karfilov's in the thick of it, trying not to get arrested, one way or the other.
2. Dogfish Head Punkin Ale. Quite possibly one of the finest beers I think I've ever had. A damned seasonal.
3. I spent futile time trying to rinse my coffee maker today, because a buildup of grounds prevents any coffee from being made, which is bad, before I discovered that the filter basket pops right out, allowing one to wash it in the sink. In Beatrice's words, "It's almost like they designed it to be cleaned!"
It works now, the coffee pours a more beautiful amber tobacco than it's ever poured before. Ah, Nectar of the Gods! If you taste anything like a fine cup of coffee, then damn you, Gods! Nectar better taste like freakin' Dogfish Head Punkin Ale. Not that I'm getting to try it, the Nectar that is, any time soon or regardless.
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