I know of Nirvana and it is right here where I live. Downstairs is a restaurant with a bar tended by a Brazilian who refills as if pinot gris were diner coffee.

Now that my woodwork is ebony, how could I ever leave?

In other news of YuriGellereasque joy, a nice lady and her family came by mine and took away all the beautiful Waterworks tile which, as a direct result of my contractor's inability to count, had been sitting on my living room floor for maybe 4 months. And she gave me cash and promised to weep every day when she saw them. I am satisfied, finally, that they have gone to a good home.

Oh yeah, and I have this:
Built for love