Gone Fishin’

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It’s been 18 months, 452 posts, and 3467 comments since I created this monster.   Time for a break, the cranium needs a rest, and so the Hugeasscity Foundation is sending me on an indefinite sabbatical. 

Coincidentally, today a friend loaned me a book of short stories called The Girl on the Fridge by Etgar Keret.  What a concept, reading something that has absolutely nothing to do with troubled reality.   Perfect medicine:


And she loved a man who was made of nothing.  A few hours without him and right away she’d be missing him with her whole body, sitting in her office surrounded by polyethylene and concrete and thinking of him.  And every time she’d boil water for coffee in her ground-floor office, she’d let the steam cover her face, imagining it was him stroking her cheeks, her eyelids, and she’d wait for the day to be over, so she could go to her apartment building, climb the flight of stairs, turn the key in the door, and find him waiting for her, naked and still between the sheets of her empty bed.