I heard he wrote you a song, but so what?
Some guy wrote sixty-nine, and one just ain't enough.



it was 28 degrees out last night while i was driving home. the phenomenon of being too cold to snow. only in the north.



also:

if little else, the brain is an educational toy. While it may be a frustrating plaything--one whose finer points recede just when you think you are mastering them--it is nonetheless perpetually fascinating, frequently surprising, occasionally rewarding, and it comes already assembled; you dont have to put it together on Christmas morning.

The problem with possessing such an engaging toy is that other people want to play with it, too. Sometimes they'd rather play with yours than theirs. Or they object if you play with yours in a different manner from the way they play with theirs. The result is, a few games out of a toy department of possibilites are universally and endlessly repeated. If you dont play some people's game, they say that you have "lost your marbles," not recognizing that, while Chinese checkers is indeed a fine pastime, a person may also play dominoes, chess, strip poker, tiddlywinks, drop-the-soap or Russian roulette with her brain.