Wednesday, May 24, 2006

May 24, 2006
T. Charles is driving in from New York this morning. He and his friend Kendra drove straight through, eating tuna out of a can and sleeping on the side of the road (ah, sweet youth). He called me yesterday, on I-40 in West Texas and asked me if there was anything worth eating in Amarillo and I said the only place I know is the Big Texan Steakhouse and that I remembered it was pretty good. I think they blew through there.

Speaking of good food, Here’s a reply to my Rockfish demise lament:

“Rockfish has been closed for a few months now. I was really disappointed. Great great food. Too bad for Phoenicians who never tasted well cooked fish. Its either a bunch of breaded fried crap that may have been fish or overpriced minute portions of cutbait (roughy) with some made up sauce, nothing in the middle.”

British Humor, I Presume?
"I see you are now offering free plugs to wannabe writers whose research is so incisive, so state of the art, so pioneering, that they can't even get William V. Morrison's name right in their handouts. I see this as a major step forward in historical research, and will shortly be sending you information on an earth-shaking new book I have just completed, which proves without a shadow of doubt that the Apache leader Mangas Coloradas was actually an Englishman named St. John Montmorency Musseltwit. It is a heartbreaking work of true genius and I would like to ask all your readers to send me $40. They won't get anything for it. I just want them to send me $40. Thank you. You are one swell fellow for an asshole."
—Fred Nolan, Chalfont St. Giles, England

”No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched.”
—Old Vaquero Saying

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