One’s learning patience, that’s for sure. I’m not quite sure what the other one’s learning, but she appears to be behind the curve.
stockings
Don’t flinch, dear.
Ohhh yeahhh.
Serious time: It’s so upsetting to me that such a beautiful book was banned solely on the fact that it contains a depiction of lesbian sex. It was not only a gorgeous aspect of the novel, but it should be held to the same standard as the straight sex scenes in a ton of the books I had to read in high school. Come on, America.
In the light of the fact that Norwegian Wood has been removed from the summer reading list of a certain school district due to its “graphic” depictions of lesbian sex (this in turn apparently constitutes “pushing the homosexual agenda,” whatever that means), I have ordered this book, and two others. Montecervesa will not stand for the banning or restriction of books, whatever their content.
There are a few other books in my reading queue before I’ll get to them, but in a short time, I hope to qualify fully for Miss Ivy’s attention on this front. Wish me luck, folks.
Holy hell. Murakami is my absolute favorite author. I just can’t even. I don’t know if I have it in me to disrespect him enough by knocking over these books to get to the lady, but damn.
Bring me Murakami, I will make love to you. Discuss Murakami with me intelligently, I will marry you. Tell me how the absurd, fantastical conflict in Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World affected you in a very real way and I will never, ever let you out of my sight. Ever.
Wanty.
Take it from me: With those colder months approaching, being bound and naked in front of a fire is a wonderful feeling. Just trust me on this one here. But be prepared to get some chills once you move away from the heat.
(No, literally, have a robe or a sweater on hand.)
I’ve been planning to get myself a garter belt, something like this aesthetically. Does anyone know anywhere besides Victoria’s Secret (a girl’s gotta have options) to find one?
Choosing can be hard.
Good thing they’re there to do it for her.
I can’t smile in pictures. It’s like an affliction. I think it all boils down to the fact that posing for a photograph feels so unnatural to me. You have to break up the action. You have to stop what you’re doing to prove to some mirrors and film that you’re having a lovely time. I don’t want to put a hold on what I’m doing. I just want life to go on, uncaptured and uninterrupted.
That being said, don’t get me started on my problems with the whole notion of going to a department store to take a family photo on a white background. You’ll have me griping for hours.
Legs Malone, photographed by Don Spiro.
After all those years of tormenting poor Charlie Brown and the rest of the neighborhood kids, Lucy’s finally getting her just deserts.
“Honk honk hum honk honk.”
“But I promise I won’t be mean anymore.”
“Honk honk honk honk.”
(I hope someone catches the references so you all don’t think I’m nuts.)
“Whether you sniff it smoke it eat it or shove it up your ass the result is the same: addiction,“ William S. Burroughs, Naked Lunch