I got a postcard (par avion) from Rustea yesterday from his beach-house on the Mediterranean. He said he was working on his first full-length novel which will probably be called One Hundred Years of Stall2-itude.
He wrote that a friend of his, Marquez, reviewed the first two chapters and suggested the book be called One Hundred Years of Smellitude. But I tolled him the first name was better. It's semi-autobiographical and often mentions a large, voracious cousin or friend in not very charitable terms. I tolled Rustea I deteckted a hint of sekshual tension between him and his friend/cousin and he was shawk and appall.