From E.B. White, 1952, in The New Yorker.

From this high midtown hall, undecked with boughs, unfortified with mistletoe, we send forth our tinselled greetings as of old, to friends, to readers, to strangers of many conditions in many places. Merry Christmas to uncertified accountants, to tellers who have made a mistake in addition, to girls who ( Read more... )

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Today I spent four hours in a Starbucks in Temecula, California ( Read more... )

I post or at least read this every year.

From this high midtown hall, undecked with boughs, unfortified with mistletoe, we send forth our tinselled greetings as of old, to friends, to readers, to strangers of many conditions in many places. Merry Christmas to uncertified accountants, to tellers who have made a mistake in addition, to girls who ( Read more... )

Christmas music made tolerable by the madness of Pee-Wee's Playhouse and a very special guest:

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Via Ernest Hardy's Blood Beats

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From '87, when they were at their height. I saw them a few times in these years and I'm glad. Yeah, this is a cheesy song, sentimental, Christmasy, and about perfect.

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I elfed myself, and the results are on the elf yourself site here. My first try was a pretty boring Internet joke, so I decided to go back and do it for real ( Read more... )

Subject: Camels, Toilets and Other Funusual Gifts from Oxfam!

FUNUSUAL?

I immediately hear Tom Jones singing "It's not funusual to be starving in a waaaar..."