Busted out a minor version of my Perfect Paint Melt Stare today as a groupie/girlfriend of an ensemble member of the UB student variety tapped me on my rootin' tootin' shootin' shoulder to query Ummm, do you mind. Pointing to her piece of guano mini digvid recorder as she stood against a pole whilst Yours Truly documented all the jubilant holiday cheer before me and one hundred mid-day music lovers and other hangers-on. She so owned that square foot of lino, never thought perhaps of panning and wanted to warn all media hacks in the house to get the fuck outta her way.
I blog currently from the measle-down, scaled-down version of SoHo's famed MAC/geek clubhouse, in a mall. I am on errands. You do not want to get in my way when I am on errands for I:
1. do not care for errands, generally speaking.
2. loathe malls and their piped-in joviality.
3. do not care to mingle with maxed-out holiday shoppers but crapskis I have business to attend to with these nice MAC folks.
4. I am in a hurry people, not on the usual 20 mph Middling City rate of speed.
Well, that amount of mall-based surliness should suffice for now.
I leave you - breathless, feckleless, Perfectless.
I am an Americano'd streak on this horizon.

Horizontal Love.