Friday, June 27, 2008

Still picking devil's club spines from the pads of my fingers. Still recovering (shakily) from Habit Lounge's big bowl of stale toast and metallic-tasting mussels that made a violent return trip right at midnight, much to my cab driver's resigned embarassment.

(Image: Marcel Broodthaers, Casserole and Closed Mussels, 1964)

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