So much conveyed with so few words

It’s like a poem. A series of haikus, even.

“… chest naked, eating Hot Cheetos, hair all fucked up.”

Michael Rapaport, on a tear

edit: Michael Rapaport rants a lot, but uses the same few words, in different sequences. It’s the delivery, too.


Grandma’s birthday is today. She’s pictured here without the bathing cap (her sister is wearing the cap).

Here’s what I knew of her as a not young person sitting at a water hole located somewhere in Pennsylvania of the 1920s.

1) She took each of her grandkids to an adventure with her. Mine was hanging out with her in Europe with Auntie.

2) We had an unfortunate dinner experience in perhaps Liechtenstein where the food was supposedly to die for the restaurant itself was smothering, humid, and the maitre d’ was entirely too hot wearing a tux made out of the finest sheep’s wool (we were not in a sauna, mister). He spent the evening muttering to himself, almost crying, the entire time we were there. We were the only people there that evening. Grandma made fun of him, and then of us, reminding us that we, too, spoke several different languages.

Continue reading “Grand”