shalom, y’all


The first week I lived in the desert, before I got a job, I woke up one rainy morning and was about to set off for an exploratory walk, when Loki awakened, too, and we ended up in old town Scottsdale, having lunch at Bowman’s Deli, whose cheese sandwiches, I am not kidding, were a solid three inches of swiss between a couple slices of rye, and they left a pot of spicy brown mustard on the table as the sole possible embellishment.

Sadly, Bowman’s is now gone, and I have not found a cheese sandwich since to rival theirs, alas.


Mr and Mrs Bugg are assembling a sandwich: Mr Bugg is heaving a giant slice of swiss cheese above his head, about to throw it down on the slice of bread that Mrs Bugg, wielding a knife covered in Slop (to judge by the label of the jar behind her) has covered in squack.

The text reads: “The buggs have made Loki a cheese sandwich to remind him of the walks in the rain to Bowman’s Deli. Also, lunch meat was not defrosted.”