sickening, currently, under the oppressive, pervasive smell of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies (how quickly the scent of baking wafting upon the air turns against one after the sixth or seventh helping!). rallying, however, with the help of Dunsbury’s Bin 92 (uhh, crisp, refreshing, 12.99) and Arthur Mizener’s 1949 biography of F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Far Side of Paradise. delightful.
from the New York Times, June 27, 1922:
“party [:] a gathering of persons who have a ‘good time’ only when highly stimulated by strong waters.”
also the company of this huge cat who could be more Rabelaisianly (my apologies to the entire language of French) gargantuan were he hairless and slobbering with drink.