2017.01.29
He speaks, thinks, lives in the present tensely.
There is nothing as ridiculous as the verbal outpourings of a young poet in love. Outrageously exaggerated. I laugh. But I am also touched. Old as I am, I remember my first loves, the fire, the torrents of words, lightning-sheathed, ache-winged. Dear lasses, most of you are dead; the rest, withered. I blow you a kiss. --Grandpa
The first forty years of life give us the text: the next thirty supply the commentary
"Oh-h-h... bitchballs," growled Bux, his anger visibly deflating. "Buggerly bangin' bumpin' *bitch*balls."
I said, 'Well, how about that.' It's the one phrase I know that can be said any time about anything.