This reminds me of the anonymous letter we received one winter long ago in Bow, saying our mailbox was an "eyesore." The letter was nasty, and I was infuriated. God knows that town was full of enough busybodies; there's no telling who left it. Our mailbox was constantly being knocked down by snowplows, which was the cause for it's dilapitation. It was banged up, but hardly an "eyesore." Get a life!

I sent my three issues of "Pinata Bloodbath" to two zine libraries: ZAPP and the IPRC. Maybe somebody other than my friends will actually read them now.

Went to the Second Annual Alternative Small Press Fair in Park Slope on Sunday. It was pretty dismal, actually. Not much to look at. The Old Stone House, where it was held, was pretty neat, although there was some guy dressed like Paul Revere sitting inside that kind of freaked me out. So we didn't stay too long and instead walked up to Fifth Ave where a street fair was going on. It's nice to walk around outside with a cup of sangria.