This post is inspired by a book report I didn’t write based on a book I never read.
Stephane Groueffe wrote the book Manhattan Project. His name looks feminine to me so I thought he was a woman.
He was born on May 22nd, 1922. He died May 2nd, 2006 in Southampton NY. My first chef job was in Southampton NY, in 1993. It was a dumb job but I learned heaps.
Stephane married a smoke show named Lillian Fox. I’m certain they banged a lot because writers need sex often but they only had one baby, so what do I know?
His Wiki page is worth a peek, they label him a political refugee. I wonder if he enjoyed cocaine as much as Tony Montana.
This is Page 1 of the book report I was supposed to write in May 1985. Instead, one of my two older sisters ghost-typed it for me.
Page 2. I love the Hiroshima typo, it’s perfect. And if you need clarification on the depths of moronic madness read it.
Page 3. My teacher Mrs Dowling gave me a B+ because she liked my drawings. Just give me an A for fucks sake you half-baked loser.
Ok, that came from a mean spiritually hollow place.
Not as mean as dropping fucking atomic bombs though.
Page 4 is by far my favorite page of this 1985 report because the opinion was written with my voice as if I spoke it today with evolved eloquence of course.
If you have time listen to the audio at the top of this post, it’s a fun free-flowing riff salad with two extra shots of aged Philly vinegar.
Being anti-war doesn’t always translate into a practice of cowardice. I’ll drop bombs on anyone I’m evenly matched with.
It’s those Anderson Silva types that make me run for the bunker.
Have an excellent weekend with one or two silent nights...
James
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