Jack: I think your New Yorker Rejection Robot story should be disseminated more widely. The world needs to know
Me: I know--we'll send the New Yorker Rejection Robot story to the New Yorker. The Rejection Robot will short-circuit, it is not programmed to handle so much Meta
Sam: The imagery of the t-rex, priceless
Me: I debated putting that in there, I thought, what if the New Yorker finds it
Sam: The New Yorker isn't looking. Reader's Digest is watching us all, but not the New Yorker
Me: The New Yorker doesn't know about the internet yet, thank God--imagine the porn it would be looking at! All James Thurber making love to Roz Chast on the back of a horse, all Woody Allen pouring milk on his face, all Malcom Gladwell tasting a mushroom
Sam: All David Mamet rimming Steve Martin's banjo
Me: All Wallace Shawn/William Shawn incest scenarios
Jack: All Updike/Cheever boiler room caresses
Me: All Jonathan Safran Foer jerking off onto a rose--through the miracle of time-lapse he climaxes just at the moment the rose opens
Sam: ...
Jack: ...
Me: Too far
4 comments:
I get that a lot, myself.
It is a Problem we have in common
Will you send me a postcard from Too Far? What is its epithet? My hometown is "Formerly Forest Creek Site of the World's RIchest Shallow Alluvial Goldfield Ever".
I just love that "Ever" to bits and pieces.
All the postcards from Too Far are too obscene to be sent through the mails
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