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Sunday Brunch:

I was warned that the Monte Cristo at The Overlook was HUGE.

I didn't listen.

Look at the knife. Look at the height of that sandwich. That is, literally, a sandwich to the hilt. A full-hilt, full-tilt Monte Cristo. Highly recommended, if you happen to be in Portland.

This was all I could finish. I didn't even eat the French toast.

Once outside, I felt something inside my sneaker.

Pleased to Meat Shoe.

Well, it was furious work, trying to eat all that meat. Some meat's gonna fly, that's just how it is.

And anyway it was a fitting prelude to the hamming up to come at the Larry Harvey Protest.

Max:
Our timid bus boy was mesmerized by Wagner, he gingerly touched it and asked what it was in broken english, our not so sweet waitress had no idea what it was and didn't know who Wagner was, we tipped her anyway.

We ran home to pick up my bullhorn then raced over to the museum for the protest.

Max had some stuff to do, so I prepared Larry's masterworks for passing out to the unconverted.