The Domino Sugar Plant in Williamsburg, Brooklyn shut down yesterday. It opened in 1856. That's the East River and the Williamsburg Bridge.

That area of Brooklyn is a museum of empty factories.

i love watching how the blogger advertisement thing decides what to put up on the ad banner. a couple posts down i mentioned putting up some "old pitchers." now it's trying to sell "la qirafe," the best alternative to a pitcher since man learned to make clay pots. or something.

computers are like the dog who keeps running into the glass porch door. oblivious but loveable nonetheless.

last night we went out to have dinner, at one of those restaurants that, on a busy saturday night, will seat you across from each other, right next to another couple who are across from each other. god bless you people who can not listen to the other couple's conversation. oh my badness.

anyway, they were in college, and it went like this:

she: i found out today that dan is reading my blog. i mean, that's pretty cool. i'm not one of those people who really cares, but i figured probably no one was reading it. and it's dan, so that's really sort of a compliment.

he: you know what, i have something to confess. after our little spat last semester, you know, i hadn't checked it, and just looked at it today. oh, and did you know john's got a new blog, and i saw the title is taken from a conversation he and i had. wow, i was impressed to see that.

she: what's the title?

he: he and i were talking about the israel palestine issue, and i said they had dreams of a nation. and he didn't hear and thought i said "dream sofa nation". doesn't that sound like a good philosophy, dream sofa nation?

(needless to say, i made up the names, cause i haven't the memory to do otherwise.)

anyway, this morning i googled it, and sure enough Dream Sofa Nation is there. to properly use the inter-thing, i would link to it there, but then these people might possibly find out through this-guy-that-guy-this-guy-the-other-guy that i was listening to them at some restaurant sometime somewhere.

boy oh boy, i'm not doing too well with the posting again. now i understand why no one will ever hire me. 'but no, i am reliable, really.'

this is the M60. most nights, i take the bus over the triboro bridge, after work. they're old pitchers.