Nobody Pours Stuffing Like You Do, My

Snowball Just Leads Elves On, Elves And Santas. He Is Playing A Dangerous Game.

When Forced To Leave My House For An Extended Period Of Time, I Take My Typewriter With Me, And Together We Endure The Wretchedness Of Passing Through The X-ray Scanner. The Laptops Roll Merrily Down The Belt, While I’m Instructed To Stand Aside And Open My Bag. To Me It Seems Like A Normal Enough Thing To Be Carrying, But The Typewriter’s Declining Popularity Arouses Suspicion And I Wind Up Eliciting The Sort Of Reaction One Might Expect When Traveling With A Cannon. It’s A Typewriter,’ I Say. ‘you Use It To Write Angry Letters To Airport Security.

I Like Nonfiction Books About People With Wretched Lives.

At First, Writing For The New Yorker Was Very Scary To Me. I Couldn't Imagine Anything That I Would Write In That Typeface.

Listen, You Might Want To Pack A Few Of Your Things Together Before Going To Bed. The Former Bishop Of Turkey Will Be Coming Tonight Along With Six To Eight Black Men. They Might Put Some Candy In Your Shoes, They Might Stuff You Into A Sack And Take You To Spain, Or They Might Just Pretend To Kick You. We Don't Know For Sure, But We Want You To Be Prepared." This Was The Reward For Living In The Netherlands. As A Child You Get To Hear This Story, And As An Adult You Get To Turn Around And Repeat It.