A vain venue for solipsistic sophists, verbal voyeurs, lubricious logorrheics, and serial-comma lovers.
I remember that some years ago I read this book or his previous book ("What I'm Going to Do, I Think"), or maybe both, and liked them.Might even have read some of his stuff in The New Yorker.Didn't he once go just by the name L. Woiwode?
Yes. And I too read his previous book, about the time I got married; maybe I even brought it to work and you saw it, or not. Also excellent.
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