WE’RE ALL JUST APES WHO LEARNED HOW TO READ
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By morning, he had decided he needed somewhere nobody cared about theater, someplace where the name Chekhov was more likely to be mistaken for a rifle than a playwright.
She said, “You bring the poon, we’ll bring the doom.”
She was always down for trouble.
Always in some kind of it.
Hall is back to teaching morons, Himmel is bemoaning his forties. Just another day on the ApeCast!
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I think my dad had a hard time with retirement. In the five months since stepping away he’d grown increasingly interested in me. I couldn’t tell if it was out of boredom or guilt for not having been more involved in my life up to that point. And though I never felt abandoned by him, it was nice—albeit strange—to get to spend some time with him.