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I get a call from my Iranian friend in the building next door. (actually, same door, across the lobby would be more accurate.) He's one of the many people I've been wondering what happened to. He tells me he just came back from a two month european vacation.

I walk in his door and he's telling a story about a drunken argument with some Israelis in Greece over Palestine that ended with a brutal fight. I didn't agree with his actions, but it was an interesting story, to say the least.

He then goes into a rant about how he drank too much in Europe, and he doesn't want to drink anymore. He starts a sentence with the phrase "I don't want any more alchohol," and after a few ands, buts, and various other conjunctions, the sentences ended with "it's still 5 o'clock, let's get some booze." He also tells me that he did way too much cocaine before he left, and he doesn't want to do anymore of that, and we should just play some music. So, I get my bass, and when I return, there's a new guy in his apartment, and a mountain of cocaine on the coffee table. Nice.

Everything feels pretty good right now. We play a little bit of music. My nose bleeds down onto my bass; that's no big deal, hot soup makes my nose bleed. Then he goes to get something at somebody's place. I decide to chill in my apartment until he swings by again. Life is good.