Spitball Army

Card is titled: “City Hall and Public Library, Oceanside, Calif.”

No publishing information provided.

“Your to funny,” she messages to me. “Their, their,” I want to respond, “I hadn’t ment to be humerus: Its just an observation.”

They call him Mr. Hanky. He’s three years old, and all he wants for Christmas is a kitchen. Supposed specialty: sausage biscuits.

After a grueling workday, they lean behind the dumpster, smoking and grabbing at flies. Redemption is a crushed and lifeless bug.

Card is titled: “Patio of Pio Pico Mansion, Whittier, California.”

Hand-written along the top back right corner of the card:

Mary.

Publishing information:

Artvue Post Card Co. 225 Fifth Ave., New York, N.Y.

Perfect Hair Guy asks what I think of his Filipino mail-order bride idea. “I really value your opinion.” Suddenly I’m without one.

Bond movie as art film. Visually sumptuous; character-rich. Craig, Dench, Bardem, Whishaw: A++…too bad only 2 will return.

It’s not about planes, as much as it is about the anatomy and politics of substance abuse. Denzel is predictably fantastic.

A busy, shiny wind-up toy with a two-hour battery, it twists the Santa Claus fable through a modern techno’ prism.