Okay. Seen the picture? Back from your shower? Still scrubbing a bit there? Yeah, that vainglory really clings, hey? On to better things. The Lotus gave me a gift certificate for Buzzword Books (Regina's littlest and best anti-authority bookstore). Here's what I got:
And the coolest book I've seen since Word Freak, Chuck Zerby's The Devil's Details: A History of Footnotes. A history of footnotes? There is nothing cooler than that. Mind you, the book is stuffed with footnotes. I wonder if any of these books uses the word pantechnicon.
OH NO, I SAID: FUCK YOU.
I have to get into the US in a couple of weeks looking approximately like this (sans glasses):
Generally I do not photograph well, and this one is no exception. Everybody giggles at this photo because I appear to be saying "Oh no. Fuck you, Mr. Customs". I like the strange yellowish tint to the background which makes it look like someone found my picture in the ashes of bombed-out buildings, and somewhere on a wall festooned with handwritten notes like "Have you seen this person?" and "Jenny, are you alive? Come to 35 High Terrace Way. We miss you so. Love, Mom & Dad & Gina", my tiny dusty photo is pinned up high with a blue plastic thumbtack, lost in a sea of fluttering paper, forever saying "That's right. Fuck you, you hopeless gaggle of survivors".
