Soooo.. I was waiting to update the blog by posting the story of the road trip down to Tennesse and the hippy fest. But I left all the pictures at my friends house, so it'll have to wait until I get them back next week. Meanwhile, this week was the last week of the illustration course. It's been pretty nice, although to be honest I haven't really learnt anything. I guess I should've taken the print making course instead, meh. One thing I've learnt is that intensive summer courses are more intorductory than anything, and I've also learnt to read exactly what the course implies when paying good money to enroll in it. I might've also learnt that I'm an idiot, but that might have been a lesson learnt long ago. I blame it on my alzheimers.

The heat in Ny is now back to bearable. I'm settling down in my cubicle in Brooklyn, and starting to think that my room is actually a closet with a bed in it. For real. Nonetheless Brooklyn is lovely, everyone is out and today I had a very enjoyable day going to the laundromat to clean my clothes. In this one they have an arcade with Pacman and Galaga, so a few hundred quarters were spent on that. I smoked a few cigarettes on a stoop and failed miserably at buying some deodorant (I think they don't use it here). Everyone here speaks Spanish and English, so I swear in Romanian. Merci Ro ma ni a! But I don't swear that much, cause I'm pretty happy.

Talking about Romania, last Thursday felt like a day at Ota's. A certain cultural institute in Manhattan saw Omar, Irlo, Linda, Gorzo, Cristi, Ada and the Sinster engaging in alcohol consumption and dance routines. The Romanian street artist exhibition was fab. Acid colours were injected into the New Yorkers eyes. The boy Irlo continues to amaze me, with his ability to cover huge surfaces with seeming-less effort, I like, I envy, I enjoy. Marc and Sara from Wooster were there, as was Elbow Toe, and some cunt who started to preach to me about smoking and drinking. It seems it is my curse to tell twunts to fuck off. Ah, but I enjoy it deep inside. Not so deep too.

After the exhibition we went to Brooklyn and ended up in a Lesbian bar where we took over the music at the terrace and were told off because of it. Friday morning was haaaaaard. And my use of so many "a's" is meant to put emphasis on the fact that I thought I was going to puke and shit my heart out, my teeth were trembling and my brain was being used as a cum rag by the local homeless.

Now I'm off to the Bodega, the club I painted at, to see if I can get that same jolly good feeling tomorrow morn. Wish me luck.

Boo ya!