From pal Moss just now: “Jenlet! I miss you. It’s your birthday this weekend, and I miss you. I miss you so much that I might have to run through the streets. Naked. Crying. Call me.” Now that’s how you leave a phone message.
A guy outside on the street is saying, “I’m an asshole. I’m an asshole. No, I’m an asshole.” Over and over again. Maybe he is. Who am I to say?