Man

The following was written through a Tylenol-induced haze:
I gained entry to the latest installment of The Oblivio Series at the Bowery Poetry Club” href=”http://oblivio.com/ahem/bowery.html”>The Oblivio Series at the Bowery Poetry Club this afternoon. Michael Barrish, punctual host and writer of sexual feats and gravitas, gave a fine reading. Paul Ford, influential Web popstar, provided laughs through not-so-distant boarding school stories. And Choire Sicha, Gawker extraordinaire, jilted California in a way that only New Yorkers can.
There was some pleasure gained in hearing others read my own life material out of completely different contexts and backgrounds. These were the common eccentricities of beleaguered, well-read white men. Stories of family trauma, geographic dispersal, mistaken identity, cruelty, and penis jokes were shared themes.
I came home to microwaved manly quiche, Kipper the Dog, and the relief that my daughter was not a boy.
But that’s not the review. I’ve always wanted to write about unique characters with unique characters; thus, this is the actual review:
Barrish: § ‡ ƒ æ Œ ˆ … Î ° ¨ † Ÿ ’ ‰ Æ ø ¬ ± ¥ ´ ˜
Ford: Ÿ ’ ‰ Æ ø § ‡ ƒ Æ ø ¬ ± ¨ † Ÿ ’ ¨ † Ÿ ’ ‰ ç ‘ Ÿ ‰ Æ
Sicha: ± ¨ † Ÿ ’ ‰ ƒ æ Œ ˆ ˜ ¬ ç ‘ ¨ Ø ‹ „ ¿ Æ ø ¬

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