Bikekill yourself

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We arrived at JFK airport at 7:30AM. Red eye and my sleeping pill is still working. After a jaunt on the tube we arrive at Adam’s place in Brooklyn. Adam informed me this was going to be a crazy weekend around his place, I’m wondering what he has in mind. He answer’s the door in a bloody white shirt with peels of grafted skin still clinging to his neck. Hospitable as ever he welcomes us in where we drop our bags, and then head for the city. Adam has gone back to sleep by the time we reach the subway stop I’m sure.

We made our way to the village for a bite of pizza. The sleeping pill is still working on me and I’m sort of in a daze as we gobble down a slice. Next, back on the tube and then another slice, a white slice actually, at another pizzeria.

We went on to see the MET Museum of Art. Some nice stuff but I prefer the MOMA.

After that we went back to Adam’s place to see this crazy thing called "Bikekill." A bunch of people had made all sorts of weird bikes, tall bikes, bikes with big barrels for front wheels, surf-bikes with skateboards on top, even a bike that electrocutes people who ride it. Jousting with bikes. Crazy stuff. After seeing many people fall off many bikes Robyn and I headed back into the city and got some Indian food from a not so good place. Then we just walked streets for a while, got some ear plugs cause we knew the party would be going on late at Adam's. We went back and had a drink and talked at the crazy rooftop party. Adam told us lots of things, like where he had been held up at gunpoint even though it turned out to be a fake gun, and he pointed to the neighborhood where Jay Z grew up. It’s a not so great area of Brooklyn. Let's leave it at that. But after the red eye flight the night before I slept like a baby.

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