Pops (pointing to an apartment building on the other side of Calle Sierra Candela): I've never seen any lights on in that building. Is it an apartment building?

Me: It looks like one.

Cesar: Maybe they're all blind.

(Laughter.)

Pops (pointing to an office building a couple blocks from CSC on Palmas): I've also noticed that that building never turns off its lights.

Cesar: Maybe those people aren't blind.

A horrible transcript, I know, but you fuckers weren't hanging out with me and my pops and Cesar, who is currently working on the Kierkegaard portrait for me.

Mexico City needs some 24-hour tiendas that sell cigarettes, because I'm down to my last Raleigh. (The filtered ones come 20 to a pack, cost roughly $1.60, and ain't got nothin' on the unfiltered ones. Big surprise.)

Oh, yeah: I watched Wisegirls and Ali G: In Da House tonight. Both were enjoyable. The former gave me a modicum of respect for, of all people, Mariah fucking Carey, and the latter was pretty damned funny despite the incredibly formulaic plot. Having never seen Da Ali G Show before, I must say that it was a laugh and a half, and even my pops seemed to enjoy what he saw of it. I also saw the final half-hour of some Czech movie about the communist military (it was fuckin' hilarious, and rather sad too) and the last twenty-odd minutes of 28 Days Later, which I dug the first time and appreciated more the second time around. I've been thinking about zombie stand-offs ever since.

I think it's time to hit the sack and read some of Titus Groan.