If I married Brooke Pancake, I would encourage her to keep her last name, of course, but also to do away her first name, so that people just called her “Pancake.”
That guy is William Mason. By then, he will be President of the University of Alabama. He’s drinking Johnny Walker, straight, because he secretly burns with envy for a girl named Pancake.
But I was the one to see the Crimson White that August morning and find, behind a dull fill piece, the girl of magic onomatology.
And yes, that is a white dinner jacket. Just like Humphrey Bogart.
19,969 thoughts on “Intermission”