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froggy existential tuesdays
frogs
akmed
one can imagine my day when my conversations involve a guatemalan going on and on in a mixture of spanish, mayan and english about peeling an unusually large carrot the kitchen staff has been obsessed with for a week and our matter of fact french chef, whom i have known since the mid 1980s, who has never spoken to me about anything even vaguely philosophical or spiritual turning to me and saying, ' i think there's nothing after death.'

that's the kind of day i had. that's the kind of week this is turning out to be- death and big orange dicks.