Tag Archives: Lindt

A Passage From a Novel Without Any Context: Vol. 4


“I’m not a suspect, am I?”

Diana was puzzled. She wasn’t a thief. She hadn’t stolen anything since high school, when she would take quarters from the little charity display next to the register at Baskin-Robbins, salty when customers would neglect to acknowledge the effort it took to make their milkshake but instead award 25 cents to picture of the allegedly afflicted girl who had been there for years. Her name was Alison, come to think of it; she had leukemia.

But there he was. This policeman at her door. Asking her about her roommate from 3 years ago.

“If you were, I probably wouldn’t tell you. But no, you’re not a suspect. We’re just trying to gather as much information about Miss Havisham as we can. You never know what clues and leads present themselves when people start talking about common acquaintances and other kinds of everyday context. Continue reading

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Landlines, Semantics and E.T.

IMG_3905E.T. knew, like, eleven fking words.

Everybody remembers two.

[Ed. note: No, Ricky. Valiant effort, but “Ellliottttttt” is not one of them.]

Phone. Home.

They’re so memorable because they’re so simple (and, admittedly, because it was pretty damn cute to watch that vacuum talk like a toddler). This much is clear.

But they’re also so memorable because they’re so universal. Everyone’s phoned home.

What aisle do you find baking soda in? Phone home.

It’s Christmas. Phone home.

You crashed your car? Phone home.

Whatever happened to your Beanie Baby collection? Phone home.

It’s Sunday morning.

Phone home.

[Ed. note: Stevie Spielberg did a much better job hammering this point home.]

Yesterday, my folks disconnected their landline. Continue reading

Tagged , , , , , , , ,