this week i

updated the !file.exists() failure photo in our bookmaking

saw an american goldfinch among the black eyed susans

grilled first meal of the day, revati sent coffee cake that wasn't chokey, matthew installed a reverse wind turbine, ruffles splashed in the potomac
cannot believe how much candy i consumed as a child.  still not 100% confident when using the word prodigious in a sentence

watched blazing saddles

the town saloon was always lively,
but never nasty or obscene,
behind the bar stood anal johnston,
he always kept things nice and clean

watched the son's room.  in early 21st century italy, they blowtorch the caskets shut


corpo di cristo

era una domenica

read all in the timing by david ives.  walt whitman high school theatre fest 2000 included sure thing, about infinite possible outcomes

after being hit in the head with a mountain-climber's axe, trotsky lived on for thirty-six hours.  i thought it was the funniest thing i'd ever heard

bill: what's the book?
betty: the sound and the fury.
bill: oh.  hemingway.
betty: the sound and the fury.
bill: oh. faulkner

maybe you're only interested for the sake of making small talk long enough to ask me back to your place to listen to some music, or because you've rented this great tape for your VCR, or because you've got some terrific unknown django reinhardt record, only all you really want to do is fuck - which you won't do very well - after which you'll go into the bathroom and pee very loudly

dawn: i see.  and "is" is - ?
don: arf.
dawn: "was" is - ?
don: wharf.
dawn: "had been" - ?
don: long wharf.
dawn: and "will be" - ?
don: barf.  arf, wharf, barf.  pasta, prison, furniture dances. [past, present, future tenses.] clara?

trotsky: is it the britannica?
mrs. trotsky: listen to this.
trotsky (to audience): the universe as viewed by the victors.
mrs. trotsky: "on august 20th, 1940, a spanish communist named ramon mercader smashed a mountain-climber's axe into trotsky's skull in coyoacan, a suburb of mexico city.  trotsky died the next day"
trotsky (impatient): yes? and?
mrs. trotsky: i think that there's a mountain-climber's axe in your own skull right now

if you've got a niche, scratch it

do you know that there are separate asylums to hold all the people who think they're the lindbergh baby?

sigmund freud would've had a picnic

jill: so what are you doing with yourself?
loudspeaker voice: "are you still sleeping with that slut from the community college?"
jack: same old thing.
loudspeaker voice: "it's none of your fucking business."
jill: have you tried the chicken?
loudspeaker voice: "have some salmonella?"

the infinite smorgasbord lies before us.  but what do we do?

jack: i'm just curious.  first base?  second base?  shortstop?
ruth: shortstop?
jack: yeah.
ruth: what's shortstop?
jack: you know what shortstop is.
ruth: i never went to an all-boys catholic school.
jack: that's when she lets you work her through her panties but won't let you put your hand inside