NOTE:
The site recently migrated to a new host with different software, and the process uglified pretty much every page published before October 18, 2024. Sorry about that, and if I live long enough I’ll get those pages beautified again, but it’ll take years.
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#1 — Worries for breakfast
#2 — “Do I have to wear a mask to eat here?”
#3 — The Sneezer
#4 — The new way of dying
#5 — Damned good coffee
#6 — Harvey plays by the rules
#7 — A dangerous thing to say
#8 — “Fuckin’ pandemic!”
#9 — Phil and The Fixture
#10 — Hold the festering sores, please
#11 — Kirstin’s azalea
#12 — Eggs with spaghetti and meatballs
#13 — “So where’s Bob?”
#14 — Another man’s stool
#15 — Kielbasa omelet
#16 — Alone, and at a distance
#17 — Telling bad jokes
#18 — My writings in The New Yorker
#19 #20 #21 #22 #23 #24 #25 #26 #27 #28 #29 #30 #31 #32 #33 #34 #35 #36 #37 #38 #39 #40 #41 #42 #43 #44 #45 #46 #47 #48 #49 #50 #51 #52 #53 #54 #55 #56 #57 #58
A dinner party, coffee, tea,
Sandwich or supper, all may be
In their way pleasant, but to me
Not one of these deserves the praise
That welcomer of new-born days,
A breakfast, merits; ever giving
Cheerful notice we are living.
from “Breakfast”, by Mary Lamb