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Well. That's what it looks like to me, anyway. My favorite part about this one is the Kurt Vonnegut inspired assholes as eyes on the nerd on the right. Dude poops out of his face. Talk about some messed up sinus problem. I also included a picture of my nephew when he was less than one month old. He is now 25 months old so you can tell that this one is a bit dated. I put him in there for no good reason other than that he is very cute, what with being so small and all. This one was always a bit disjointed, so cutting it up and placing the two separate images side by side seemed the like the only logical solution. Sometimes logic doesn't work well at the Cafe Loup. For instance, one night I was working there late and things seemed to be slowing down, the crowds of hungry New Yorkers retired for the night or out at the Meat Packing clubs looking for love on the dance floor. My section was almost empty when I noticed a couple sitting at table 10 who I had not noticed before. This sometimes happens late at night since I sometimes leave the floor to visit the frogs and lizards in the basement; I will tell you all about that in a later blog post. So I go to get the couple's drink order and behind me another table sits down and now I have two tables where before I had zero and was getting ready to settle in for the evening. While at the bar getting the drinks for table 10, I get another table. Flustered, I go to the kitchen to tell the cooks that I now have 3 tables; I know they will be more upset about this than I am since at this time of the night, they are more than ready to leave Manhattan and ride the subways back to Queens and the Bronx. After I let them know, I try to walk back to the front where the bar is, but the whole floor has slanted upwards, with the kitchen at the bottom and the bar and table 10 at the top. The grade is extremely steep and I have a hard time walking up the incline to my section. Then I realize that I have been working in my sleep again. I hate working in my sleep. It's so much worse than working in real life, because in real life you are getting paid to be there sometimes; in your sleep, you never get paid unless you are one of those people who have your money making money for you. Then, at least, when you have work dreams you can feel better about putting in a couple hours at the office. Personally, I have been having less work dreams than I used to, although every once and a while, I'll have one like this. It's usually late at night and once or twice, I actually left work and went home in the dream. That was pretty cool the first time that happened, because usually I am in the weeds and there is no end in sight. Maybe it's a metaphor for something. If you happen to be a dream reader, let me know.