Entries Tagged as 'book time to read'

So it goes

“Before you kill somebody, make absolutely sure he isn’t well connected.”

“Another time Billy heard Rosewater say to a psychiatrist, “I think you guys are going to have to come up with a lot of wonderful new lies, or people just aren’t going to want to go on living.”"

“The British had no way of knowing it, but the candles and soap were made from fat of rendered Jews and Gipsies and fairies and communists, and other enemies of the State.”

“”There they go, there they go.” He meant his brains.

That was I. That was me. That was the author of this book.”

Excerpts from Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Tim Burton, the poet

I assume I am not the only one in the world who, when liking a book, buys more than one copy.

From the very beginning I knew I’d quote from the Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy and Other Stories, but not how much. I was also unaware I will read it twice. Aloud. Yeah, the advantage of being 35, soon, and living on ones own. So, it’s read now. Grin. I really dig it.

The whole process goes like this. Take book, split open. Right after the cover, right after the director’s achievements, and Of related interest from Faber and Faber, and “Tim Burton is hereby identified as author of this work…”, and “For Lisa Marie”, and Contents, so, as I was saying, right away after… it brilliantly starts with “Stick Boy liked Match Girl,/ he liked her a lot. He liked her cute figure,/ he though she was hot”. Can you guess how the story goes on? Hint: she was hot. I think it’s a classical romance. It’s not about Stick Boy, it’s about me. And you. And that love that in retrospect should’ve better been unrequited. Or maybe it was unrequited. But you didn’t see that. Nonetheless. Funny.

So far here you are the first verse, but no end. Now, let me stir you with some missing-the-beginning: “He never forgave her unholy alliance:/a sexual encounter/ with a kitchen appliance.” Tell you what, of course that piece is about marriage.

And, finally, a little story in its entirety: The Boy with Nails in His Eyes

“The Boy with Nails in His Eyes/ put up his aluminum tree./ It looked pretty strange/ because he couldn’t really see.”

Do read The Girl with Many Eyes, The Girl Who Turned into a Bed, Roy, the Toxic Boy, Junk Girl, The Pin Cushion Queen, Melonhead, Sue, Anchor Baby - to name my absolute favourites -  and let me know what or whom are they talking about.

Later EDIT: I have found this, but I still think everybody should buy the book.

Gay Tabu?

That Tabu is and has been gayfriendly, that’s Polichinelle’s secret. This winter they make an exit-entry in the closet with their lifestyle extra on the Tabu men. Is this gay enough? Too gay? Some homophobe remarks have already sprung off on Cristina Bazavan’s entry on the matter. As well, for some gay this glossy is not rainbowy at all.

I happen to look at it as interesting experiment. I hope many learn about it so that we can learn about it too. It’s different lessons. For some it’s going to be about style, for others about life style, and for some it will be about marketing. Without further ado, go see for yourself. Start online, but don’t forget the newsstand. The number of sold hardcopies will be the first measure of economical power of the gay community in Romania.

I have contributed to this issue, but you’ll have to figure what on your own what is my article. And no, I don’t get paid extra if they sell more.

Photo by Tabu

cover-intim1.jpg

About sexual addiction and relapse

” A man can avoid drugs and alcohol, but not his own genitals!” - Joe Kort in “10 smart things gay men can do to improve their lives”

Dog biting

dsc00847.jpg

“Dog

To see a dog in your dream, indicate a skill that you have ignored or forgotten, but needs to be activated. Alternatively, dogs may symbolize intuition, loyalty, generosity, protection, and fidelity. Your own values and intentions will enable you to go forward in the world and succeed. If the dog is vicious and/or growling, then it signifies some inner conflict within yourself. It may indicate betrayal and untrustworthiness. If the dog is dead or dying, then it indicates a loss of a good friend. Alternatively, it represents a deterioration of your instincts.

To dream that a dog bites your on the leg, suggests that you have lost your ability to balance aspects of your life. You may be hesitant in approaching a new situation or have no desire to move forward with your goals.

To see a happily barking dog in your dream, symbolizes pleasures and much social activity. If the dog is barking ferociously, then it represents your habit of making demands on people and controlling situations around you. It could also mean unfriendly companions.

To dream that you are buying a dog, indicates your tendency to buy your friends or buy compliments/favors. Alternatively, it suggest a need for you to find companionship.

To dream that you are dressing up your dog, signifies your attempts to cover up your own character flaws and habits.

Also consider the notions associated with the word dog, such as loyalty (”man’s best friend”) and to be “treated like a dog”.”

Source here.

Not only I have dreamed of a ferocious dog biting and grabbing the whole of my lower left leg, but I have finished Bruce Benderson’s The Romanian, and an American friend has actually been bit. Premonition, coincidence, or both?

Daily revolution

Relax, nobody gets hurt. That’s mostly around myself. Take yesterday, for instance. The moment I got out of the house, I caught a little fly between my eyelids. Isn’t that special?! OK, OK, it was my righ eye, but still. Thirty minutes, a panic attack, two pharmacies, and half a bottle of eye wash later I have managed to remove the little thing. It has not survived the above mentioned hardships. Do you know the joke with the crocodile tamer and the blonde? Yeah, that’s how I felt, only nostrils dried from the antihistamines.

In other unrelated news, I have been to the bookshop. That’s the thief of my heart, now that the boyfriend is in the mountains. Buying books, underline buy, not read, makes me feel intellectual. Of course, at a cost. Also being the gay I am I have bought Madonna’s latest. And Lenny Kravitz’s. Tell you what, you wannabe DJs, these two don’t go together, not for the time being, I’ve tried.

And now off to work, celebrating by doing this Labour Day.

dsc00269.JPG

I am back

 

Posted by Picasa

Reading. That is the advantage of traveling, when your plane is late beyond belief. Like the joke with the cops patrolling in pairs, one for reading and one for writing, I had all my bases covered. Five hours late(r) I had finished reading a book. For the time being bloguette007 was in charge with writing, in flesh, but there was little to write right then. Also, already done writing her piece was Anna Gavalda, with her I Wish Someone Were Waiting for Me Somewhere.

They say traveling is an experience, it opens your horizons, might even be a lesson. A simple mind could hastily conclude the more you are spending traveling the better you become, but that doesn’t go when it’s night an you are stuck in empty cold airport and you have actually finished reading your book.

If airport sleep deprivation was the cherry on the cake, it was a rotten one. But Barcelona, no connection whatsoever to my palatable reading, has pretty much made me feel so alive. If your cherry is rotten throw it away and enjoy the cake.

Yesterday

A day that has passed is way sadder than a day still to come. It was his birthday. Her birthday. Another birthday. A funeral cortege was killed by a truck. Ten kids were left without their parents. I saw it on the news. That is why I don’t do funerals. I don’t do weddings either. Unless I am blackmailed.

For the third time I have tried finding Rondo Capricioso at the bookshop. They had three more copies, but were unable to locate them. I am probably the last person here who has not read the book.

I am trying. I have my questions, I have my words. It’s not a sollution. Dismiss poetry.

Cogito ergo…


Generally, people’s unreliability is more reliable then their reliability, so count on the former rather then on the later.

Reflection is pretty much like physical exercise. It can hurt. But it is the nature of the exercise that leads either to a positive or negative outcome, among other things. As I am exercising myself, it took me more than five minutes to write down the last three words of the previous sentence.

I am drinking coffee with soy milk. Ironic, come to think about it. I remember how my parents dreaded the soy “coffee” of the 80’s.

I am reading “A Long Way Down” by Nick Hornby, in a very Wizzair cover. That was ironic too, as I sort of started the book waiting and flying that airline. I have also found some very nice paragraphs. Should any of you find the original text, let me know, I am interested.

OK, time to go, I am late again in my corporate world.

Wanking


I have 1,000 faces to hide myself under and they are all the same thing. And taking the pictures of the 1,000 faces is a lot like wanking, after a while, when it’s just a routine and you have other expectations: it’s just a routine and you have other expectations.

I am calm and not missing on any social call. I am learning words like floordrobe and phrases like escape goat. Check them out in the urban dictionary.

I am currently reading Agota Kristof, an older “acquaintance” of mine. I just can’t stop it. Reminds me of the times I was reading under my desk, book on my lap, ready to “loose it” the moment my mom would come to check on me. Instead of homework. Le grand cahier has, for me, a story I am planning to tell you soon.