I went out in the world today and ended up at La Vista with James and some coffee well i got there first and had a bowl of coffee i guess you might say it was a latte but really we call them flat whites here in new zealand but a latte has more milk same shots but bigger bowl so therefore more milk and i was drinking that and writing a note to fishboy that i haven't sent yet and it's gibberish anyway but hell who doesn't like getting real mail cos no one sends real mail these days so even a mishscrawled note about nothing is better than nothing right? So then James arrived and ordered coffee and I ordered another although funnily enough the waiter forgot that secrety second bowl and didn't charge me even though I reminded him he didn't believe me and james and I drank coffee and talked about work and parents and movies and leather and ordered more coffee and talked more work and more movies and more parents and ordered more coffee and i had a scone and he had a bit of that and we talked more about parents and movies and work and the barrista only needed to catch my eye and I'd give him the "nod" and he knew more coffee and he kept it coming and we kept drinking til James had to go and so went and I went too but went somewhere different although I was going to go buy another scanner and roxio toast 6 I did neither instead opting to drive all the way to Howick to buy a bunch of design magazines instead and now I feel tired and hyped at the same time and this phrase "no one loves you as much as I do" keeps going through my head but I don't know what it's attached to and the design magazines are okay and this new one called dumbofeather is quite cool so many words though a lot of reading and hardly any pictures I don't know if i have the concentration to read everything in that wee pink magazine but I'm so hungry but instead of making something fast I am making soup from scratch which is taking forever but I am making making making and I love seeing James but he and I react differently to coffee and I do this every time and will not learn to have tea or water or *anything* else and that 4 x 2 shots of coffee is TOO MUCH FOR ME IN A SINGLE DAY!!

[from JJ] Lots of lonely little anthropomorphised punctuation marks are hovering about outside your window in the rain, anxiously peering over your shoulder at the screen and wondering if their time is at an end. The comma is casually leaning against the window frame, smoking and telling the rest of them to calm down. The full stop is bouncing around trying to get a view of what's happening because he's too short to see in properly. He asks the comma to lift him up so that he can see better, but the comma just scoffs and derisively points at the semi-colon, "You wanna end up like that guy? You go ahead... but not me buddy. Not me." The question mark is looking puzzled and scratching her head as the exclamation mark bangs on about how he saw it coming a mile off, but, despite his most vehement protestations, no one listened, "I even called my two brothers to stand next to me... three in a row! But still, nothing... NOTHING!" He shakes the question mark causing her to fall off her dot. They both blush as she picks herself up. An immigrant family of umlauts from next door call round to see what all the fuss is about. The mother talks gravely with the hyphen while her little baby umlaut and the colon's youngest child stare each at the other like circus freaks. The left curly bracket has lost his other half and is beginning to worry the right parenthesis, who has suspected her husband of playing away for some time. "Ever since our son decided he wanted to be a �less than� and got himself kinked... that's when it started. I knew Lefty had a thing for curly girls, but I didn't think he'd ever do anything about it." she is sobbing. Suddenly, the apostrophe shouts from his high vantage point, "Coffee! She's writing about coffee!" There is a murmur of excitement mixed with relief from the huddled punctuation marks. "Maybe she's just buzzing..." suggests the asterisk, who was never really that worried in the first place. "Maybe she had one more than she should have..." says the solidus, who gets used so seldom anyway. "Maybe everything will be OK in the morning if she gets some sleep..." mumbles an underscore, more in hope than in expectation. "Maybe..." whisper a pair of square brackets, who are standing so close together they're almost a rectangle. It stops raining at last. The left parenthesis and the right curly bracket appear from the bushes and the window ledge falls silent. Her pointy bit is wonky, and everyone can see. The left parenthesis laughs uneasily, �What?�