ain’t no love

i am wrestling with the 21st century here in Memphis, ancient egypt’s answer to the west side of chicago. depending on your viewpoint, southern hospitality might be construed as a euphemism for either “mentally injured” or “not at all concerned about what other people are doing or saying, but more polite about expressing that lack of concern.” both definitions seem to be proving true for the staff of this hotel. i spent my lunch break yesterday in the hotel bar watching oprah with the bartender and talking about anorexia. the verdict: anorexia is weird. i should probably drop a copy of The Craft of Research with the bartender. also, lifestyle choice threat #0343: i am goign to spend the next several months just reading rhetoric books and re-emerge with my darts sharpened as a kind of cyborg-abe lincoln type.

remind me later to expand on how air conditioning has made me a giant baby (although to be fair to myself, it is 99 degrees here). i am going back to the 18th floor to gaze at the FedEx Forum and mississippi river.

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