This morning I was awoken by a group of rogue cock-a-roaches, all gathered amongst the surface of my chest, while two of them held my nostrils shut; not to steel my breath like my cat constantly tries to do, but to merely wake me, in order to deliver an important message.

Now, I can't speak cock-a-roach -- not fluently at least, so for the hours that followed, we played multiple games of charades, and a few games of pictionary.

At about 9.45 in the am, Pepe-Grande threw his head into his hands out of pure frustration, then signaled for me to follow. That I got, the universal signal to follow looks pretty much the same in all groups of beasts, and that's a real relief I think, but maybe I'm wrong...

So we ended up at the City Diner on 90th and Broadway where the wait staff attempted to squash my new friends into puddles of jelly. I ordered a plate of eggs over easy, with a few strips of bacon and home fries.