Went to the Gracie Mews this morning for breakfast and had real French toast. Two pieces of light fluffy goodness. Read the paper, chatted with Anna (she’s originally from Poland and is studying to be a nutritionist and doesn’t give me a hard time if I order bacon once in a while), jotted down a to-do list, and now am back home gearing up for work. Ah, the wild life of a single guy in New York City.

I’m staying at a hotel in Mechanicsburg, PA near Stackpole HQ and thinking about my breakfast. Specifically, I’m wondering why I ate the French toast. It wasn’t really French toast, it was more like strips of rubber colored to look like skin carved off a dead whale washed ashore.

Two weeks ago.

I did have yogurt and an orange, but the consumption of the French toast that wasn’t suggests I do have a self-destructive streak in me.

In other news…er, now I’m thinking about whales made entirely of French toast, their blow holes spouting maple syrup with blueberry eyes. Hmmm, I wonder what the psychotropic properties are of really bad French toast?

Here’s a link to a 2:30 minute trailer on his art. His work is easily identifiable with insanely muscular men, voluptuous and barely dressed women, and really big…swords 🙂

http://www.deadline.com/2010/05/r-i-p-frank-frazetta/#more-39412

Canadian beavers build a dam so large it can be seen from space:

http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20100507/beaver-dam-100508/20100508?hub=TopStoriesV2

65 years ago today the Second World War comes to an end in Europe. Thanks, grandpa!