The house is filled with poets and short story writers. Jackets are piled on the bed in the bedroom and people are lying on them or on the floor telling stories about losing their virginity. Everybody has an MFA so every story has a small inappropriate observations. "He put his hand between my legs at the movie theater. I was wearing my mother's skirt." "I was fifteen, she was nineteen. It was the day after my best friend committed suicide." (Stephen Elliott, "My Little Brother Ruined My Life", Maisonneuve)
Sunday, November 06, 2005
"Like hell you are"
Sometimes you read something and you just can't keep yourself from doing a spit take: