Estragon: I can’t go on like this. Vladimir: That’s what you think. As a professional editor and…
When Derek asked me to post for BBL&L, we had a brief exchange about content. As a former print journalist, I was used to having my pieces posted in the online versions of the papers I worked for, but blogging was never a part of my job.
I still don’t read many blogs except this one. It’s a time-management issue. There are only so many hours in the day for reading, and on a beautiful fall day I’d rather be on the porch with, say, Saul Bellow.
I just picked up a copy of The Dean’s December for a quarter at the library book store. It’s a Pocket paperback, published in 1983.
…
Part II
How did I get off track? Oh, yeah, it was the thing with the little kid. Where was I? Last I recall we had just left Miami International, and I was already in trouble with the stewardess. If you don’t know it already, Miami is one of the biggest shit holes south of Atlanta. It is not so bad if you are making a connection, but if you have to go through customs you might as well forget about making the connection or having your baggage on the return flight.
Displaced Aggression League Report — Week 8 There’s not much to say about what happened in Our…
Hey Tom, what did you do with that box?
Um. . . what box?
The box you stood on to kiss the elephant’s ass.
This is a conversation I had with Dave’s dad many times as a kid, no matter how I tried to avoid it.
cross-posted at RuFreeman.com
So I watched the movie, Waiting for Superman, on opening night here at the Bryn Mawr Film Institute. And, yes, I’ve linked the film to the website that allows people to take action rather than the one that allows people to find showtimes because action is necessary and showtimes are easy to find, but in case you can’t, here’s the link to the movie itself: Waiting for Superman/movie. The documentary, directed by Davis Guggenheim, breaks down the state of education in the United States and leaves us with the heartbreaking facts:
I know I’m at risk of reading too much into something that matters disproportionately to me, but…
cross-posted at The G Bitch Spot In every high school I’ve been in this semester, charter or…
Dear Readers,
The precarious meter clicked down a notch this week as “photographic anomaly” was chosen over “spot on the lung,” and the invisible spear lodged in my wife’s back got labeled “chest wall pain.” That’s doctor speak for “We don’t have a clue.” (See last week’s entry.)
She is better now.
The sun shines.