December 2011
24 posts
Bear-foot in the kitchen
nyuk nyuk nyuk SORRY
Rationally I get that I shouldn’t anthropomorphize dogs’ personalities or prevailing moods into anything like people emotions, but when I meet a dog and he seems a little disinterested it hurts way down deep.
Existential Shortcomings, Holiday edition
What I wanted to give my niece for Christmas: A guarantee that life will be always happy, and rich in love and safety
What I got her: An elephant that lights up and makes music
Top Five Places My Phone Is, In Descending Order...
On the couch, under the mail I brought in earlier
Over there by those books
On the shelf by the bed
Still in whichever coat I wore last night
Right here on the table
Over the weekend I watched the last intact cereal bowl from the shitty stoneware set I bought years ago slowly tip off the drying rack, fall maybe two inches, and shatter into a billion pieces. I briefly considered, instead of replacing it, reducing my kitchenware to the absolute minimum: two forks/spoons/knives, two bowls and salad plates, two coffee mugs.
For a minute this even seemed...
Q: Which trains were not running at Jay St.-MetroTech last night despite a total lack of signage or announcements, a fact you suspected with growing unease but were unwilling to fully admit to even as you walked from the R platform to the F platform only to find it just as empty and creepy in the way that rarely empty public spaces in NYC can be, and thus you were neither angry nor surprised but...
I’m going to say this as evasively as I can, and only this once: there was some Big Trouble in Lower Intestinetown and I’m pretty sure it had to do with whatever undigestible fat substitute is the primary ingredient in CREAM, an “alcohol infused whipped cream.”
Someone bought a can of this yesterday and then someone else took like eight shots straight from the nozzle and...
S-A, T-U-R, D-A-Y. NIGHT!
I left a party where everyone was watching the Justin Bieber movie (documentary? don’t know/care) because I was reading Kafka earlier and then David Foster Wallace’s essay on Kafka and as a result all I wanted to do today was sit in a cold and lonely room, face to face with my own mortality, working up the nerve to punch it right in its stupid, mortal face.
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The funny thing is
I’m totally allergic to seafood — I’ve never even tried lobster. A while back some friends of mine got married and her family flew over from Russia to his family’s place for the wedding. This being in Maine, they had a lobster bake the night before the ceremony. But her grandfather had never seen a lobster before; didn’t even know they existed. Was blissful, in other...
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Alex and I got a little ripped
and we found this toilet brush on the internet.