There is no elegant, poised way to clutch a crayon. As your fingers fist-wrap around the wax and shoulders hunch instinctively over paper, this world of adult falls away in scales. The little stub of wax; is now the portkey [...]

August 18th, 2006|Blog|

Another arb moment

What did the viviparous tell the oviparous? It's not fair, I never get laid.

November 17th, 2005|Blog|