Monday, August 4, 2008

You Can't Eat It

So, it turns out that Meredith and each have this fantasy - one of my many backup plans to living in the desert in a concrete bunker and raising goats with Elko while I am waiting for my mail order bride to arrive - we each have this fantasy of becoming an organic food farmer upstate.

I know, I know, how banal can you get. What kind of sheep are we? Who's reading the New Yorker lately? Yes, I know, but it's a pleasant, escapist thought while enduring the rocks and horrors of life in Manhattan sometimes.

Anyway, I was just mentioning this and Meredith said "It's honest work, at least." in its defense. I countered with "So is what we do," meaning the business of 13Bit. To which she replied, "Yes, but you can't eat it."

Get it?

Anyway, maybe we can go upstate and grow organic films.

Note to selves: A Russian morality play titled "Everybody In My Family Dies of Heart Attacks."

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