Instead of writing what I would like to think about, perhaps I’ll write about what I am thinking about. Which, in fact, is nothing. Nothing at all. I’m feeling more listless now than I have all summer. My mind doesn’t think of quips, it doesn’t think of comforting words, it doesn’t think of conversation…it just […]
Month: August 2007
Dryden: How did he die? Bond: Your contact? Not well. Dryden: Made you feel it, did he? Well, you needn’t worry, the second is- [Bond shoots Dryden] Bond: Yes, considerably. There will be no diatribe. We’re done, Cristen.
The beach epitomizes nearly everything I react badly to. Sand gets everywhere and precludes everything but sandals (which I never wear), the Sun is blinding even when there isn’t an expanse of sand reflecting it, the heat causes me to break down, and extended periods in water have the same effect. But when I went […]
Back in Stuy, there was a saying that often wormed its way into speeches or closing opinion pieces in the school newspaper, like that joke about laxative* that stopped being so funny after you’ve heard seven different comics say it in a row. (I am surprised neither was anyone’s yearbook quote.) Welcome to Stuyvesant High […]