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2002-04-26 10:57 p.m.

People of Earth! Prepare your erectile tissues! Lube your orifices! The time has come! I am once again prepared to break into your poorly–protected houses and photograph myself urinating in the eyes and mouths of your family as they sleep! Behold the dawning of the next Golden Age of piss–photography!

Oh my gosh! My new (refurbished, to be more exact) Canon S100 Camera is so fresh and exciting and excellent in every way imaginable, except, of course, for the minor detail that it is completely identical to my old camera. But, that is OK with me—It feels so familiar, and I am just peeing myself up and down with happiness over having a camera again. I was so floored by how fast it got to me, I wanted to give the postman a hug or a reach–around or something. The eBay transaction went flawlessly, and the camera arrived so quickly—it felt almost as if the old camera never left. Maybe this is why people run right out and buy a new stupid dog the very next day after their old stupid dog dies—It fills a gap in their life, pronto.

I was ready to go again! So, I decided I better take some pictures right away.

The first picture with my new camera! My foot! Behold its awesome splendor!

The second picture with my new camera! Me eating a cookie without any clothes on! The delicate interconnectivity of art and nature, color and balance, form and function, arm and hammer! Plus, I am buck naked!

The third picture with my new camera! Me in front of the mirror after taking the very first shower since the purchase of my new camera! See, the mirror is all fogged up with that mystical fog, that holy mist which commemorates this once–in–a–lifetime event.

The fourth picture with my new camera! This is the first time I ever balanced Bactine on my forehead and took a photo of it with my new camera! Cover your eyes, kids! You must be 18 in order to view this sort of adult content!

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After showering, eating cookies, balancing Bactine on my head, and so on, Andie and I decided to visit the Palace of the Legion of Honor to see an exhibit of Dadaist and Surrealist art. Of course, such an event seemed like as good an excuse as any to parade about in eccentric, bright–red clothing.

I don't like driving much, so I use mind–controlling drugs to convince Andie to drive. Plus, since I am not busy driving, I have my hands free to take pictures, dig around in nearby orifices, or do whatever.

Andie makes everything wonderful, even something as tedious as driving around San Francisco looking for parking. Look how wonderful she is, pressing on the gas pedal and steering and pushing various driving–related buttons or whatever it is she does.

The art exhibit rocked, but I am too tired to write about Man Ray, Marcel Duchamp, and Salvador Dali. We rented the headsets and got the elite audio tour, chock full of important historical perspective. I tried very hard to pay attention and learn as much as I could, but I was mostly tired and hungry, and I felt burdened with smiling back at all the people who kept smiling at me. I kept forgetting that I was dressed as a spectacle, and that people tend to smile at you when they are confused or don't understand why you look so funny.

We put on these "magic glasses" to help simulate the absinthe and opium experience of the artists.

Although I am normally so excited about art, I was mostly excited to leave and sit down in a comfortable restaurant.

We picked a restaurant with a beautiful view.

I have taken so many pictures in the bathroom of Minami Sushi in San Francisco, and none of them ever turn out right. Their whole bathroom is pale yellow and white, and I wish I could capture it with my camera. Sadly, it turns out that I am a terrible photographer, and I can never really make the yellow look as good as it does in real life. Here is a picture from their restroom, though.