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! READ MORE

I have held my tongue thus far, but a man can only stand silent for so long while others pillage the fruits of his labor for their own ends without offering proper testament to his genius. It was I, Alex Balk, who first used the term "Summer of Death" to refer to this tragic season. It happened right here, at the beginning of July, and in the weeks that followed I have been forced to endure the agony of seeing my creation tossed willy-nilly about the Internet without a nod in the direction of my brilliance. (Those stealy bastards at New York actually suggested that they had trademarked the thing.) It may seem a small point, a minor question of phrasing so obvious in and of itself that it had already been used in another context, but no: "Summer of Death," when uttered to encompass the spate of celebrity passings that marked the grim dog days of 2009, is utterly an invention of MINE, and I demand to be festooned with all the accolades such virtuosity merits. Preferably in book deal form. Thank you.

So last night I was meeting a couple of friends for drinks in Brooklyn, which is always a dicey situation because I have no idea where the hell anything is in that borough and am reliant on cab drivers or bad directions from the subway to get to my destination. (Those of you from out of town should know that Brooklyn is laid out completely illogically, with bizarre and unpronounceable road names rather than an orderly set of numbered streets and avenues. There is also, excepting for a couple of bridges and a place that is famous for cheesecake, a distinct lack of local landmarks by which one might orient oneself.) Because of the sweltering heat and a recent bounty that fell into my lap via the good offices of the New York State Lottery Commission, Scratch-Off Card division, I felt both sweaty and flush enough to take a taxi. This was my first mistake. READ MORE

I had some work to do this morning that was not going to get done if I sat at home, what with the many potential distractions of television, Nintendo DS, staring out the window, grouting the bathroom tile, etc., so I forced myself out of the apartment and stepped into a Starbucks, where I got myself situated in a corner with a couple of ice coffees and plugged in my battery. I had been so consumed by my own concerns over doing what I needed to do that I didn't notice there was something unusual happening until I saw another adapter plugged into the outlet next to mine. It was connected to an unattended laptop which, it turned out, belonged to a gentleman sitting on the ground next to the sugar and napkin island a few feet away. He was speaking very slowly and methodically on his cellphone. It quickly became clear that he was talking to the police. READ MORE

Apologies. For whatever reason, today was rough. I don't feel like I gave you enough content. So here's a little something extra, just for you: READ MORE

So I was walking up 1st Avenue this afternoon...and OH MY GOD IT IS DISGUSTING OUT THERE. I don't know what it's like wherever you are, but here in New York the humidity sticks to you like a mouse sticks to a glue trap. This is a serious problem if you are, say, a particularly hirsute gentleman who refuses to wear shorts and is carrying too many extra pounds around with him. My back hair is soaked and mottled, and there's a huge stain of sweat on the top of my pants from my overhanging gut. It made me think of all the terrible things that happen to people in the world, which made me reflective and sad, because no one suffers like I do. Anyway, seriously, it is gross outside. I am camping out in front of the A/C with a mess of bourbon and a tube of Pringles for the rest of the day.