Laughter is health to the bones; heal thyself:
Silence
Critic: Why don't you write? Isn't that the one and only, the single, most obvious rule that you must follow: Do not stop writing? And yet you did stop, so... Writer: Yep. Critic: So, that makes you pathetic. A real low life. A writer who doesn't write. Writer: Have...
Okay
Just figuring out where this will land on the page.
Hey
Hey, hey, hey
“Rueful Panties launches into an absurd picaresque romp with gusto and although nothing is really happening–in the Sterne tradition–I really wanted to know how it concluded. I particularly enjoyed the timelessness of its unpolitical correctness.”
“Fool of a [book]!”
My family and I think of ourselves as errant romantic bohemian garden artists who tour the world’s oldest forests. We sprinkle chicory, purslane, white man’s foot, and lavender seed in the barren glyphosated roadways between Ferney-Voltaire and Sintra. Probably we are just homeless with wifi, but we prefer our van to any apartment.
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