.those had croutons had to be the best homemade croutons ever... for the Caesar salad... genius, adding fine cut rosemary and a red onion to the lettuce... and oh... um... the chicken? poached while wrapped in clingfilm, and then gently fried... well... so much for watching the techniques on Australia's master-chef... and then the schnitzel... it had to be tenderized, but then gently smashed with a mallet... i'd say... less than five centimeters thick, drizzled with some lemon juice, to cut through the fat... obviously the beer helped to oil up the afternoon, d'uh...

and now i'm sitting here thinking...
that B.B.C. drama, bodyguard?
that's something...
     some of it was shot, would you believe,
in the offices of Tate Modern...
oh sure... you can see the Millennial Bridge
veering off to the left of the camera short,
but i'm pretty sure,
that the Globe Theater sits pretty,
right next to the converted power-plant...

anyways... so i'm sitting there,
drinking my Blackbeard (*** and coke)
solving a sudoku, per usual late night
drinking...
some people drink and go out and do
stupid **** like i also used to...
  now... i just drink and think of stupid things
to later not think about...
and it dawns on me...
   no... not exactly a hyper-happy dawn...
all it took was switching from listening
to U2 to listening to the Boss...
and it's like...
                       well... sudoku... it's not really
an intelligent puzzle... is it?
    i can do this **** drunk, or drinking...
and i'm like... it's not quiet an optical
illusion... more like the optics of a blocked
toilet...
                puzzle no. 10201...
my eyes are strained, i'm getting tunnel
vision... difficulty? easy...
   but there's no thinking involved...
i'm solving this ******* while free-falling
toward another glass of Blackbeard...
the final numbers from each of the lines /
grids fall through
   [4], [8], [9], [6], [5], [2],
                                           [1], [3], [7]...
and while drinking came the dawn...
there's nothing intelligent about this
puzzle...
                  it's just an optical strain...
yes, it's not an optical illusion...
but what it is? is an
                                       optical strain...
tested, on a drinking man's patience...
the narrative went along the lines of:
****... ******* blanks everywhere...

9 over here
                                             no ******* 2
                                             'ere


                                              no 9 down here


a ******* 5
down here

           (italic sections read upward
from down) - normal read downward
from up -

it's like being disorientated by a heavy
blow to the head...

this might just be a dry night for
writing...
                                 or...
                                                well...
           just another blank space being filled.