sagesse aleatoire

we went to frank?'s house on the astringent wind-swept evening to drink whisky and get out of the house. a woman was giggling behind the door and duylinh opened it. i stayed behind because it was more interesting that the giggler remain anonymous, if just for a few seconds.

"oh, it's you..."
"we're drinking mimosas and watching the brak show"

the four of us debated politics and the perception of social vice.

there are two types of laziness.

latent laziness, a type of laziness that is only comprehended in retrospect, when you understand that the last time you looked at the clock was two hours ago, and you can't recall what you may have done since the last time you looked. you pronounce laziness.
applied laziness, a prae hoc laziness, where you begin to savor and enjoy your idleness before it starts or shortly after it has begun, the type of laziness that is encouraged by drinking cheap champagne mixed with ersatz orange juice on an astringent wind-swept evening in january.

an excerpt from a typical haruki murakami novel goes like this:

"it was three o'clock, and no sign of the reptile. i was feeling hungry, so i whipped up a potato salad and washed it down with a can of beer."

this has sown in my mind the idea that the ideal lunch is a bit of cold potato salad with a can of beer. i am going to fulfill that fantasy right now, having made a potato salad last night and refrigerated it.