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Took off my Crazypants
sleepyhollowjacks asks: I was reading your chain of tweets about Paxil and had a question. One of the conditions that...
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The man at the deli counter gave me a piece of cheese to eat while he sliced my cheddar so basically I’m in love.
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“Stopping was death. Stopping meant you’d given up and turned the keys of the world over to other people. The only option for a creative person was...
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I Want To Hear Your Heart/I Think It’s Broken
Chicken salad or tuna/what’s the difference is a terrible tagline, except it might work on Veep....
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Pouring myself a glass of whiskey and toasting to the fact that the book I thought I would never finish writing is now officially out.
On the way to dinner we saw a peacock in the middle of the road, about a half mile from the zoo. I got out of the car to take pictures and I noticed it had only one leg. It hopped a few times. I felt bad for the peacock.
Stefan briefly had a fantasy of taking the peacock home for the night, but I told him we’d never get the bird in the car. We tried to get into the zoo but it was closed. I called a few animal control numbers, but they were the bad kind of animal control, the kind that killed animals. That job doesn’t sound like very much fun.
Finally, I called the city animal shelter, which sent me to 3-1-1. The woman on the line seemed concerned. “Oh no,” she said. “Oh no.” A wayward, one-legged peacock is no joke. I did not feel confident they would find him, however. The sun was already setting.
After dinner, we drove back on the dark, winding roads more slowly than usual. I said, “Your goal for the night is to not hit the peacock.” We didn’t see him anywhere, though.
I worried about wolves getting to him. But maybe the peacock knew where to hide.
