“I remember her pretending to like watching award winning ceremonies more than she actually did because it surprised me, but then I let her know that such-and-such ceremony was on and we would have to sit through it. Le's go to bed, she said. We don't really know who any of these people are. Winners, I said. Every stinking ugly vacuous cunt-faced last one of them. And off we went to bed.” GriefMediaCynicismRealism Book:Grief Is the Thing with Feathers Source: Grief Is the Thing with Feathers