Mostly food. Sometimes not.
I think Jon Hamm lives in a storage closet in 30 Rock and leaps out any time a writer says:
“Well maybe we could get Jon Ha-“
“YES I AM HERE YES.”
I drank coffee and read old books and waited for the year to end.
— Richard Brautigan, Trout Fishing In America (via thelotuslounge)
Board another fellow’s sailboat and replace each bowline knot with a round hitch. His frustration at the regatta will be a cause for levity!
— (via drollpranks)
The Morgue Lives!
It is a cramped basement annex, stacked high with metal filing cabinets, full of three-fourths of a million pounds of old newspaper clippings and photos, going back 160 years.
It’s simply called “the morgue.”
To get here, a reporter must leave the shiny glass tower that is the 40th Street headquarters of the New York Times, walk a half-block down the street, and descend three levels below the sidewalk. There, in a nondescript tower, she will emerge from a dirty elevator, walk past a janitor’s closet, then past a giant, rusted pump contraption with running water, and finally reach a pair of metal doors. There are glue traps with belly-up cockroaches in the corner.
