Friday, March 24, 2006

Sometimes when you think you're done with everything -- probably the best woman you'll ever have in your life, a decent job and a ridiculous city -- and you think to yourself that maybe instead of getting off the train to go to work you'll just stay on until La Guardia and catch the first flight you can get to anywhere where it will actually feel like spring, all it takes to make you get off at your stop and go to work is the last half of that National album and it's mostly okay again.

P.S. Fuck you, Duke.


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