Ok, I’m heading to Kentucky for Giving of Thanks. They do not have internet in Kentucky, state law. You cannot buy beer either in the county I visit, so am bringing in “two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half-full of cocaine and a whole galaxy of multicoloured uppers, downers, screamers, laughers … A quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser [and] a pint of raw ether…”
Thanks Hunter S.
(dork alert–wall in my house)
The best holiday short story ever is by James Joyce. Gabriel gets Punked, poor guy. He gets his talking buzz and wine buzz and man-of-the-party buzz and is thinking he is ALL THAT. The whole time his wife is thinking of another man…
Dubliners is a great collection. Get it now and read it like fresh plums.
One of my students asked me why you can’t iron tires with a tire iron.
So happy holidays. Have fun but not too much fun.