being for the benefit of dry socks
As I wait for my tattered white socks to finish spinning dry, I thought I'd impart a few things that have become evident to me in the past few days:
- I need to write a letter to Kurt Vonnegut thanking him for all he has accomplished. I just got "A Man Without a Country" in the mail, but am busy reading "Palm Sunday," a sort of similar mishmash (in the best sense) of essays, speeches and errata. I consumed Vonnegut's work ravenously after being introduced to "Breakfast of Champions" as a sophomore in high school. It was that unmistakable voice, so knowing, sad and charmingly funny, that won me over in a matter of paragraphs. For years now I have felt the need to thank him; as his passing becomes more and more likely, it seems crucially important.
- The Bravery are the worst new band around.
That's all for now, due to my impending curfew.
- I need to write a letter to Kurt Vonnegut thanking him for all he has accomplished. I just got "A Man Without a Country" in the mail, but am busy reading "Palm Sunday," a sort of similar mishmash (in the best sense) of essays, speeches and errata. I consumed Vonnegut's work ravenously after being introduced to "Breakfast of Champions" as a sophomore in high school. It was that unmistakable voice, so knowing, sad and charmingly funny, that won me over in a matter of paragraphs. For years now I have felt the need to thank him; as his passing becomes more and more likely, it seems crucially important.
- The Bravery are the worst new band around.
That's all for now, due to my impending curfew.
