Inking That Thing with the Crushers & The Rat & Pimp

Did this bit in the past half hour:

Staying home and working on art because A) some asshole is always creating a crisis and I don’t always get to B) we’re trying to save money where we can and C) there is a block party going on a bunch of my housemates are at but I heard it was put on by the Morgan (Bar, not avenue) which is yup-infested every time I walk past, probably because they have a sandwich chalkboard boasting that they serve foie gras (even if you do eat meat, they way they make this is pretty damn fucked up.) Also our housemate who plays cello gigged there when it first opened and I guess they couldn’t quit deep-throating ducks long enough to provide her a chair while she performed. She’s played in professional orchestra pits, including some of the traveling Broadway productions and such, and they think they’re who?

Anyway, although Waffleodeon is quite dapper in her smashing hat and epaulets, I think the devil pimp has an equally smashing hat with stars on it, so I’m not sure why he craves hers so much? Maybe he’s so insecure that he can’t bear the thought of anyone having any other hat, period.

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