the someday café really is closing this time. and sooner rather than later. that’s kinda sad, despite what i said before. i don’t even like mr. crêpe, and it sounds like they were steamrolled by developmentophiles and a cocksucker landlord.
not that there’s anything surprising about that. if there’s a single landlord in boston who isn’t a cocksucker*, i’d be glad to shake his/her hand.
when i first wrote about it, i figured it would be like in empire records, and through a very watchable combination of pluck and short skirts they’d turn it all around, possibly by baking brownies or inviting scul over to shake down the fatcats or waging guerilla war on artbeat. so much for life imitating art. at least i can still go to diesel to play pool/get sneered at for my hopeless corporatism.
now i’m just depressed.
*quick disclaimer about cocksucking. i’m all for it--i don’t care who you are or whose cock you’re sucking, i think it’s fan-fucking-tastic. really, knock yourself out. i just think it’s a completely, awesomely useful word. james lipton, if you’re reading this, one question down, nine to go!
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