Also, in case you want to listen to a nice short story instead of read one, let this load and give it a listen.
Enjoy.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
The crisp autumnal air
London means literature, and literature means everything. By this logic, literature also means Ireland, which, I have to admit, isn't London. But I think everyone should read this treasure of a tale by Frank O'Connor, if not for literary value, then for pleasure. You won't regret it, I promise.
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Only David Sedaris can make me feel good about those years I spent trying to learn french.
ReplyDeleteboring. i want some pictures.
ReplyDeleteHey Jeff,
ReplyDeleteKiss my butt.
Love, Andrew