This latest collection of newspaper columns is Scott Saalman's silliest compilation yet. One piece, "Catfishing With The King," dates to 1987, though most were penned in the 2020s when the world really got weird. Here, he writes about losing sleep over his wife's obsession with true crime shows ("The broader the blood spatter, the better. The serial killer ones are her favorites, rivaled only by ones about wives whacking husbands . . . "); a public library without books; bad mobile device app ideas; colonoscopies; Jimmy Buffett; jukebox heroes; painting his toenails for his wife's 50 th birthday (" When I glance down in the shower and see my painted toes, I can't help but think that I'm standing in someone else's feet . . . a creepy thought. Even more creepy is how I like that thought . . . "); starting a baldies support group; donut guilt; his Rolling Stones T-shirt; a mail-order Marc Maron mug; remarrying; being a father of the bride; shy bladders; learning the real meaning of Afternoon Delight; Jaws; The Sopranos; the Caribbean and NYC; air turbulence ("We represented nothing but a tubular chew toy in the jaws of a masticating, mythical sky beast. The plane's drop was sudden, belly flop-like, as if an empyrean trapdoor had been triggered . . ."); mistakenly introducing his current wife by his former wife's name at his mother's funeral; and on and on. Scott writes so quietly, it's likely you've never heard of him before, but once you do discover his writing, the noise you soon hear will likely be your own laughter.
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