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1. After making a mental list of words rhyming with “Roth,” I recited a pome:
   

   victor groth*
   was eating some broth
   he needed a napkin so he used a fancy cloth
   then he was scared by a big ugly moth**

   * I think this was meant to be Fantagraphics publisher Gary Groth.
   ** A waking approximation. I know it was “[something] big ugly moth,” but it probably made less literal sense than “was scared by.”

2. Our friend R. had won the lottery. I went to a government building to print out her claim certificate. It emerged from the printer in narrow ribbons, each with a sentence or two — or part of a tax chart — on them. If you couldn’t assemble all of the little strips in the into the correct order, you wouldn’t be able to follow the tax regulations, and the prize would be forfeit. I complained to someone at an information desk: “I know the purpose of the lottery is to generate revenue, but this is ridiculous!” Then I embarked an a fruitless quest for an empty cubicle in which I could sit and try to tape the document together.

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