Thousand Movie Project

Wherein the narrator finally investigates why he's been indulging a hush-hush impulse to horde and preserve a bunch of things that would look much better in the garbage.

Wherein the narrator gets a new job and tries to eat a burger shortly after a Novocaine injection.

Wherein the narrator gets a root canal that is very unpleasant but made much worse by the rootcanalist.

Wherein the narrator riffs about a Brickell native.

Wherein the narrator, smitten with a very busy month full of good things, caps it off by interviewing one of his all-time favorite (and most personally influential) novelists, Don Winslow, about his new novel, CITY ON FIRE (which is absolutely incredible, and on whose recommendation I will stake my reputation).

Buy CITY ON FIRE here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B094SHMHBB/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1

EMAIL: thousandmovieproject[at]gmail

Whereing the narrator, thinking this'll just be a hodgepodge episode, talks for a while about his post-book creative position, bingeing coverage of Putin's war in Ukraine, and riffs openly about his excitement for the new Cormac McCarthy releases---PERO THEN: while editing the episode he gets an upsetting email, hops back on the mic, and wallows (publicly).

Wherein the narrator shares too much or too little fruit with a stranger, and re-reads a classic.

PATREON: www.patreon.com/thousandmovieproject

EMAIL: thousandmovieproject[at]gmail[dot]com

Wherein the narrator sits down to study Ukraine--but then takes a step back, seeing that he's falling into the same trap he fell into with COVID coverage back in 2020.

PATREON: www.patreon.com/thousandmovieproject

EMAIL: thousandmovieproject[at]gmail[dot]com

Wherein the narrator talks about practices that might or might not be unique to the Goodwill in Little Havana, and his conviction that almost every book they sell comes from a dead person's library.

PATREON: www.patreon.com/thousandmovieproject

EMAIL: thousandmovieproject[at]gmail[dot]com.

Wherein the narrator breaks a tooth and thinks, mistakenly, that three beers is enough alcohol to keep him from passing out at Dr. Pimple Popper.