I Took A Little Celebrational

The Writer Has A Grudge Against Society, Which He Documents With Accounts Of Unsatisfying Sex, Unrealized Ambition, Unmitigated Loneliness, And A Sense Of Local And Global Distress. The Square, Overpopulation, The Bourgeois, The Bomb And The Cocktail Party Are Variously Identified As Sources Of The Grudge. There Follows A Little Obscenity Here, A Dash Of Philosophy There, Considerable Whining Overall, And A Modern Satirical Novel Is Born.

No One Ever Confides A Secret To One Person Only. No One Destroys All Copies Of A Document.

I Think When You Are Truly Stuck, When You Have Stood Still In The Same Spot For Too Long, You Throw A Grenade In Exactly The Spot You Were Standing In, And Jump, And Pray. It Is The Momentum Of Last Resort.

My Grandmother Refused To Concede That Any Member Of The Family Died Of Natural Causes. An Uncle's Cancer In Middle Age Occurred Because All The Suitcases Fell Off The Luggage Rack Onto Him When He Was In His Teens, And So Forth. Death Was An Acquired Characteristic.

Bored People, Unless They Sleep A Lot, Are Cruel.