Oh dear. People born in 1987 are legally adults. Nineteen eighty-seven. I can't get behind that.

I can, however, get behind the following things: Terry Gilliam movies, even badly produced ones. Sleepovers. The Joycean nature of everything. Unusually spicy cha'i. People I love being excited to see me. Smoked salmon hash with sourdough toast ( Read more... )