waved his bumper pack of chocolate digestives at me as I was about to go into a tube station saying that he wanted to recite me a poem, I said no thank you but he said 'pleeeease' and I felt a bit cornered.
Thinking I was going to say no again he popped a biscuit in his mouth at the same moment that I said go on then
Not wanting to give me the opportunity to change my mind, he launched into some really quite shouty verses and, being English, I felt that I couldn't shield myself overtly - I squinched my eyes and sort-of-shrank into my coat collar for the duration.
When he finished I opened my eyes and said thank you and he said how was it? and I said a bit biscuity
Suadero, Shishito.
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I always enjoy Gary Shteyngart’s writing (e.g., 2004, 2011), and his latest
New Yorker essay, “A Martini Tour of New York City” (archived), is no
exception...
10 hours ago
Biscuity. Perfect!
ReplyDeletesecond-hand biscuits!
DeleteI seem to recall that Lord Byron choked to death at an early age on biscuits.
ReplyDeletereally - what sort?
DeleteI heart this.
ReplyDeleteyou should've been there x
Delete