Lunch at the Imperial Hotel
Like every other traveler in the world, I have eaten things I don’t care to remember. In times of hunger, I have put things in my mouth for which a small child would receive a spanking. Anyone who has ever drained a cup of Tibetan butter tea, made of year-old rancid butter and smelling like an old hockey bag, with hairs floating in it and a flavor of rank socks, knows what I mean.
Best Meal: Lunch at the Imperial Hotel
By Michael McCarthy
Like every other traveler in the world, I have eaten things I don’t care to remember. In times of hunger, I have put things in my mouth for which a small child would receive a spanking. Anyone who has ever drained a cup of Tibetan butter tea, made of year-old rancid butter and smelling like an old hockey bag, with hairs floating in it and a flavor of rank socks, knows what I mean. So on those sublime occasions when
Bad Jobs: Pulling Greenchain
By Michael McCarthy
Writers must often find ways to pay the rent while waiting to become Rich and Famous. The traditional method of accruing wealth is to find an agent, with whom you can correspond and bemoan the circumstances of life while waiting for royalty checks to appear in the mail (before you find out that the agent, publisher and distributor is making all the money from your book). Of course, in order to have an agent you must first write a book, and before writing the book you need to have something to write about. So the first step in writing a book is to go get yourself a Bad Job, so you have something to regret, and are sufficiently motivated not to do something like dig ditches ever again.