Lucy is on the phone with her Grandma, the simple one. They talk for a while, in Korean. I'm not paying much attention, but I catch the following. Lucy:   Why did you call, Grandma? Grandma (assumed)

Walking through downtown Daegu, I see a man who looks lost. I walk up to him, "Are you lost?" "Yeah," he says, "I'm looking for --" "Forget it, brother,

I get a new pair of shoes. THE new pair of shoes. They are sparkly and red and they highlight my eyes. I look fantastic in them. I AM fantastic in them. And they whistle sweet music when

I'm playing with Lucy. She finds small round piece of plastic, and pretends to put it in her eye. "What's that, Lucy?" I ask her "For Daddy's eye."

Last night I cut up some hot peppers for tokk-pokki before taking off my contacts and going to bed. When I wake up this morning and put in my contacts, my eyes burn a painful, yet oddly refreshing,

God: Hey Mark. Me: Hi God. God: Just a thought, why don't you call your blog 'Stories about coffee'? Me: You think I write too much about coffee? God: You write a lot about

I buy a small coffee maker for home. I have a normal one in my office, but need something for the weekend. Its a two-cupper- they used to sell these at Canadian Tire. One time, long ago, when

Lucy delighted us with her first bit of wordplay yesterday. Eunjoo asks me [sic], "Why your back hurt? You sleep on your stomach?" "No, I slept on my back." I say. "Me too,