I apologize for being so absent from my life. But: AJS is firmly ensconced at his new Park Slope headquarters. Ensconced and tingling, actually. The new HQ affords the man the space his fleshy, Michigan-bred cargo richly deserves while also appealing to his sensitive side—the side that can purchase Harp Lager for $7.50 right across the street. The place is nigh perfection personified. But there is a distressing issue he’s had to deal with: the nearly incessant pitter-patter of a hyperactive brat’s feet. (This is the same brat who is currently banging horrifically on a piano.) AJS was told no children existed on the floors above the HQ, and therefore he believed that he wouldn’t be woken up two days in a row at 7:15am by screeching and random jumping. AJS has yet to come up with a solution to this problem, and thus he will spend the bulk of today’s manhours devising a way out of this conundrum. Stay tuned for the results—which may or may not include news of AJS’s incarceration in a maximum-security penitentiary near you.


Given that it already says April on the calendar, once again I have to go with “the passing of time and all of its sickening crimes.”