The same friend and I drove to Seattle one night, fueled with Southern Comfort, and snuck in the very seedy theatre to watch it. Coolness squared.
Other folks, though, have injuries that seem to sever a more general association with words. They utter pure gibberish.
Mayle is patient. Good gawd, he is patient. He is not entirely comfortable with touching as the French are.
Then - then! - I saw it and heard it again. I almost wish it was a baby cottonmouth with a mouse in its fangs, crying and squealing.
This photo broke my heart. It came attached to an email this week from a charity helping the poor in various countries. It purports to be a Peruvian woman who makes the barest of livings collecting recyclable scraps. That’s the only information given. The pessimist in me immediately wonders if it’s true. She could be... Continue Reading →
Driving down the road, I threw my hands up. "That's it! That's the name. You Woke Up Breathing. That's what I'll name the new site."