review: those buns…
I often worry about my esteemed colleague, the tentacled chuckeats. Between his enviable emails entitled “Manresa tonight” and “Gagnaire tomorrow,” he’s prone to long pauses, hours – sometimes days – of silence. He goes on all-night project benders without notice, disappearing into his exciting world beyond the internets. He doesn’t call, he doesn’t write, only to […]
I often worry about my esteemed colleague, the tentacled chuckeats. Between his enviable emails entitled “Manresa tonight” and “Gagnaire tomorrow,” he’s prone to long pauses, hours – sometimes days – of silence. He goes on all-night project benders without notice, disappearing into his exciting world beyond the internets. He doesn’t call, he doesn’t write, only to […]