53 Is All There Is

matisse 5

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.


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.

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