Last night I had a banana split. I chose two kinds of chocolate ice cream and for the third a scoop of cookies and cream. And I use to think September Gurls was my favorite Big Star song, then a few years later I listened to Thirteen over and over. And now I realize I've made a big mistake, it's the Ballad of El Goodo that I truly love. Wow, sorry for getting so personal. Now you have glimpsed my, so to speak, soul. Did you shiver or shudder? This morning I met Pam for breakfast and then walked over to the bike shop with my broken front wheel of my bike under my arm, wrapped in a garbage bag so to protect my usual Sunday white suit. What's a bicycle when it's broken? Is it still a bicycle even if you can't ride it, when the nature of it, the thing it does, is broken? It's a sculpture? A memory? I'm going to go over to Pam's soon, say goodbye before she leaves for Jamaica, and I'll ride my bike there, which is now a bike again. Pam just told me on the phone that I'm so tiny and she will put me in her pocket. I told her I'm making her carry me on her back everywhere and if she complains I'll remind her of her Andrew is Tiny and Fits in Her Pocket theory. "What? I'm tiny, you can't pack me on your back to the EL stop? What? AM I SO TINY YOU CAN'T HEAR WHAT I'M SAYING???!! LET ME UP ON YOUR BACK!!!!!!" Also we started talking about how Axel Rose must always bug his guitarist Buckethead (who usually plays with a KFC bucket on his head) about if there was still some fried chicken left that use to be in the bucket on his head. "So, like you got any of that chicken left? Or did you eat it all? I mean, I'm not that hungry but like if happened to have some that chicken left I could totally eat some. What? No? Oh. Uh, you feel like getting a new bucket? I mean, not for me but that one looks kinda ragged and...uh yeah, Original Recipe, that would be cool." Oh, and she gave me an advanced copy of Sarah Vowell's new book to read. I read a chapter, sitting on the curb outside the bikeshop, waiting for the bikeguy to fix my wheel, and it was pretty good. It seemed fitting that I was sitting on Lincoln Avenue while reading about how she loves Abe Lincoln. Yah, that guy could wear a hat.

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