prickly raze on a day beset with yard_sales, you bring home a ten-dollar briefcase, a monkey-themed magazine, and a book about a churlish child. the greatest haul of all is a cross_eyed cactus that eats coins. the woman selling it only wanted a dollar. you felt that was an insult to the cactus, so you tripled the price. "careful," you say, handing me the synthetic succulent. "he's a little prickly." i run my fingers along his serrated spine, feed him a quarter, and feel i've found a friend. 260530 what's it to you? who go blather from