I can’t stay away from him any longer. There’s no reason to keep denying myself as some sort of repression of a little happiness. I’ve been down a long time, and it’s either a cream cheese and chocolate bits-filled chocolate cake or Cormac MacCarthy’s Child of God. According to Boethius, while I cannot count on either to bring enduring true happiness, as long as I understand that, they’re okay. So cake or Cormac…
Maybe both.
Just eat the one and read the other or you’ll have a frosty intellect with high fiber diet.
ta-dum