crazy bulgarian artist and paris is really small

last night I was out with people who reminded me of Toronto. I found myself stealing drinks at art openings, getting free beers from nice people, and getting in free in rock shows only to leave 10 minutes later because, let's face it, german industrial noise nonsense is great in theory but bad in person.

my new friend, a crazy bulgarian artist, who wore yellow stockings and has a really great haircut, who's name is voin, and we use his real name because they can be only one so there's no use pretending he's anything else, was really funny and mad and told wacky sexy jokes and made all the paris boys squirm with desire. fun fun. but today, found out that one of my other friends, in a completely separate social circle, knows him as well...and then it turns out she knows all my other random paris friends, and that everyone knows each other, and, well, like the rest of the world, it's small in paris. weird... anyways, I'm too hungover to say more.