The Sunday Papers

Sundays are for trying to find and exile the giant house spider that ran under my bed yesterday. I slept with the lights on and wrote most of this round-up standing on a stool. If any part of my body touches any other part of my body I assume it's the spider, and hit myself with a dustpan. I may have to dispose of any shoes I'm not currently wearing.

Let's take our minds off the spiders with some writing about gooners. I've lobbed that word around in articles as though it's just a synonym for lonely guys who want to jack off. I gather there's more to gooning than that. Here's a rich brew of thoughts from Sam Bodrojan.

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