Day 89: I Am In Glasgow

Oldest friend, two children, a tiny cat that bites but does not hurt, and a larger, half-wild cat with fangs. We have been out walking around, drinking vodka, drinking mocha so sweet we spat it out, and going to the Turkish Baths. We are talking as well.

1. "Yes, remember him? He took so much coke his hair fell out."
2. "He's like a dog. But a dog that can read."
3. "He gave him a giant turnip off his allotment, and stuck a picture of his face on it for his birthday. No, it wasn't very well-received; he sulked about it outside the bowling alley. No no, not the three-year-old, the man who grew the turnip ... he's forty-three, I think."

It is cold and windy, but good.