Chamboultou

It's funny. I haven't smoked weed in a long time. We're talking years, here. And now, I'm eating those "special" cookies every day, just because Raph and I have those big sophistic arguments every morning about whose turn it is to walk in the cold to Dunkin Donuts and come back with a 12-donut box. And when I say "morning" it's a figure of speech, really, because I haven't gone to bed before 5 am in weeks, so of course, I ASSUME that there is still such a thing as mornings, but I haven't witnessed any in a long while. I mean, a REAL morning. After a good night sleep etc.
So every morning, I drink Coca-Cola (free advertizing) to get the "cookies" down. Pour une raison que je ne suis pas encore parvenu a eclaircir, Raph refuse catégoriquement de toucher aux cookies. Pourtant, Raph a lui aussi connu une période où un observateur aurait pu se demander si en fait son organisme n'avait pas métabolisé un joint qui lui aurait poussé à la main. Un onzieme doigt. Un organe douteux qui accapare d'ailleurs toute son attention. But who am I to be critical?
Even weirder, is that I maintain. If it wasn't for the taste, I would even wonder if those cookies have anything spacy [sic] to them...

Today's big news is that upon reading my detailed reports on Raph's expedition here, David (aka No.2) officially downgraded me to loser No.3, while Raph jumped to pole position. And I didn't even tell him everything. Raph wants some of the things going on here to stay between us. Like, What happens in NYC stays in NYC.

I still score a zero in productivity. I really havta call NYU tomorrow.