I write this from an undisclosed location. Actually, I write this from my home, but due to the wonders of scheduling by the time you read it I will be wandering the city looking for a place that has free wifi and easy access to many toilets; because of my illness, Choire has barred me from the Awl offices. I suppose his fear of catching my terrible disease is fair enough, although the idea that someone who works in filth is wary of communicable disease seems a bit of a stretch. No matter; even though I am not yet 100 percent recovered (or even 50 percent) I will endeavor this day to bring you the kind of content you've become accustomed to here at the Awl. Which probably means a lot of bear videos. But that's up to you!

I noticed that Choire's entreaty for tips resulted in a bounty of easy posts; where were you people during my hours of need? Anyway, I'm back here today-even though I am still sick and have been exiled by an uncaring associate to roam the earth searching for a free signal etc.-so all will be forgiven if you send me items of interest as well. Okay, off on my quest. Back, hopefully, soon! Until then, consider this proposition, which consumed me during the moments I tossed and turned in agony yesterday: Don't you think the editors of the New York Times' Modern Love section could do us all a favor and let us know whether the writer of the week's column has been molested or not at the outset of each missive? I know there's an even chance in every piece, but maybe they could put up some kind of logo at the top to tip us off? Because otherwise it's incredibly distracting; you're cruising along, waiting to see what valuable lesson Writer X learned next when, BAM, molested. It's like a molestation Rickroll or something. Anyway, onward!