Dispatch from New York City, where the World Was Supposed To Be Buried In Suffocating and Dangerous Amounts of Snow:
There was supposed to be a blizzard. It snowed. Some. I wore boots.
I had dinner. Macaroni.
I walked home.
I wish there were more.
To report.
Humor:
Today I lost a bet. Otters do hold hands while they sleep. Yes, they do.
Something beautiful:
A wonderful They Might Be Giants Song, not the one people conga line to, but a very nice one.
Going On 