I must admit firstly that I am being quite persumptious because I haven't actually meet Mr Potato Head, I only know him from such classic films as Toy Story and Toy Story 2, but lack of sleep has served up a creamy blob of mash potato which has replaced my frontal lobe. this has meant my usual wit and charm has been replaced by grunting noises and warped smiles.

My mind isn't as babaganousch-eque as it was yeaterday however:

Diary entry: 5.10.2006

Well here I am. NYC. I've arrived. The trip wasn't horrendous. Don't feel amazing right now but it does feel like 9:30pm. That's a plus. Hopefully jet lag won't hit me terribly. Have things to do tomorrow. The plane trip, the noise as we took off reminded me of Harper from that play. I did her monolologue for WAPA...

Words. brain.

Totally insightful.

They have real life black people in America! And they talk like they do in the movies, y'all...don't worry I'm not trying to speak street wit dem. And its good to see at the LA airport that the blacks are still shining shoes for white fucks...I know shiny shoes might be important to you but seriously, getting all nostalgic for the better days of the jim crow laws is well a little insulting to this intelectual soft latte drinking pinko lefty!