For Those Whom God Has Blessed With Fingers is probably the greatest book I’ve read since I read Ken Sparling’s other book, Dad Says He Saw You at the Mall.  Every section of this book reads like its own story.  Every sentence is its own world.  It makes me want to write a book called I think I saw a Webelo on the Escalator.  It makes me want to have kids and name them Yawnboy and Orphantoes.  I just thought of a part in the book I really liked and tried to find it and couldn’t but found this section instead:

“I was around ten when I got Fluffy.  Now I’m 28.  I’m married.  Fluffy lives with me and my wife.  In our apartment.  Fluffy goes out on the balcony sometimes.  Licks things.  The grey bricks I’ve got piled out there.  I was probably going to build something sometime.  My wife thinks there’s some deficiency in Fluffy’s diet.  “A brick deficiency?” I ask.  I shake my head.  My wife and I are standing at the window.  Inside the apartment.  In the living room.  We’re looking out at the balcony.  Watching Fluffy lick bricks.”