Sunday we ventured over to Williamsburg to our friend Matt's apartment for a "stretchy photograph" party. He had this whole rig set up to take stretchy, fun-house-mirror-like photos. I got to sit on a table with bright lights all around me. In the first picture I looked like a fat, mutant ET freak. Later on I fell into the contraption and almost knocked it over. Sorry Matt!

Prior to that, G and I decided to go to White Castle for french fries. What's more depressing than seeing a junkie score on the corner and then duck into the White Castle bathroom? Someone asking if they can use food stamps at White Castle. Then, upon hearing no, asking if they can use a credit card. At this point the junkie was all done, came out of the bathroom with a beer and decided to sit next to us. Time to go. G made the astute observation that there was not one single thing in all of White Castle that could be picked up and thrown at someone or used as a weapon: no napkin dispensers, no salt and pepper shakers, no condiment racks or whatever, even the tables and chairs were bolted down. It was totally weird. Just white and blue plastic everywhere.