13/02/2026 20:52

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Or, to make the point lucidly: “ Uh, excuse me, sir, I, uh, don’ t know how to uh, to uh, tell you this, but you were three minuteslate. She just sat there staring at me. He fell asleep sobbing over never having seen the sea, and came awakehours later with the night still pressing against the walls. “ You’ re no fucking rose garden yourself, Albert!” he snapped.

A cold front had blitzkrieged down from the north earlierthat evening, catching the hard, cold Kentucky countryside in a noose of below-zero snow and ragingwinds. I can remember that little thin face of his(he was always such a frail child, you know), always smiling, though. I’ve got a house inSherman Oaks, but at the moment there’s a kindofa sorta ex-almost ex-wife nesting there. Ordinary in every esthetic consideration.