Pyjama

His pyjama top had blood stains on it.

This morning of the 14th of June of 2025, here on Lulu Island, is quite cloudy and chilly for a near-summer morning. I walked to Tim Hortons café at about 5 o'clock. There, I enjoyed an iced coffee with oat milk and scrambled eggs with sausage bits and potatoes. Yesterday was probably my 42nd visit this year to the St. Albans Road's Roman Catholic church, which I call "Clam Temple" because of its shape. "42" is jokingly famous for some people: In The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, the number 42 is the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything, as the supercomputer Deep Thought calculated after 7.5 million years. Yesterday, at the café, Michael from Guǎngzhōu was wearing a black Louis Vuitton shirt with an orange-coloured blossom insignia thereon and grey jogging pants. I was wearing a hooded red, grey, and black cardigan over a military green mesh net vest over a red T-shirt, as well as a green touque, green striped Indian pyjama pants, and mauve garden clogs. We talked about lots of things, including that "socialism" might have a big comeback because of the effects of Artificial Intelligence and robotics in the future. These things could also affect warfare, we were thinking.

They[…] have joined the pyjama parade, proposing sleepwear as outerwear as the new way to dress up for an evening of entertaining at home or on the town.