carolyn just sent me this email:
"your precious beckett killed proust: http://papercuts.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/04/20/thackerays-brain-and-other-literary-curiosities/"
you know what i have to say to that? good. fucking. riddance. i've read proust. and i would like those eight months of my life back, please. i know beckett liked the guy. but seriously. lame-o.
beckett can do no wrong in my eyes. hell, if he were still alive, he could give me lung cancer from all the cigar smoke and i would thank him. i would send him a letterpress note in the mail apologizing for encroaching on his personal space and thanking him for the thoughtful gift of impending death.
you're sick.
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