"Slowly? You waited five years," I say.
Robert is in shock. Kristina can't suppress a laugh, can't hide her blushing cheeks. I throw my fist in the air and put on a face.
"So, at this point in the song, E., are you pouring beer all over yourself?" I ask.
"Kicking stuff off the stage?" Robert adds.
"Blowing fire?"…
"For a start, none of us knows what kind of an effort this represents for the individual reader. It could be his or her first full-length adult novel; it might be the book that finally reveals the purpose and joy of reading to someone who has hitherto been mystified by the attraction that books exert on others. And anyway, reading for enjoyment is what we should all be doing."
Via Blog of a…
Via Jeff Wong and practically everybody.
Have I mentioned that the band is done with making music? I did, I know, but I was not clear about it. I bowed to reticence and things like that, and left room for ambiguity. Now, I'm being clear: the band is done with making music. It's a bit of a sad thing, I suppose, as much as any end is a bit of a sad thing. I suppose.
But: it was time.
And, just because it's sad doesn't mean it's bad…
Via Jeff Wong.
Hmmmm.
Numbers in cells, numbers in cells, numbers in cells. What crimes did these numbers commit? Where's Kristina when you need her?
Actually, she should be arriving any minute now. Though Tuesday was her last day in the office, she'll be meeting us for drinks this evening. No need to remind us of her age. We'll be sure she's drinking nothing but virgin pina coladas. I'm looking forward to it.…