Mean
Mean Monday: Fuck Everybody, I Hated This Book
Hi. I am in a really bad mood although I was in a worse one a few hours ago but I just paid a woman to make me lift weights for an hour and feel maybe a bit better? Hm. Nah. I came home from working out and spent 30 minutes or so cleaning up cat urine. My house still stinks to high hell. I hate my old cats. I am going to have them put to sleep. I hate them. They pee everywhere. Also, when I was working out? I smelled cat pee. I took my clothes out of a laundry basket full of clean clothes and so what that means is one of them got in the laundry basket and peed on my clean fucking clothes. Hi, lady who worked me out! I smell like cat piss! Be my friend! I was hungover when I got to the gym- hi, scotch and a pack of cigarettes, I hate myself more than I hate everybody else- but now I am not so hungover. One of my cats slept on my head though last night, so I am asthmatic today because of that. Fuck everything. It’s raining like crazy.
Also, a long time ago when you all were in toughskins and pretending to be in a Star Wars movie, I bought this book called The Stories of Vladimir Nabokov. I bought it cause I had just read Lolita which I liked very much and then I read, oh neato!, they have just published a book of stories by Nabokov! I love stories! (Just looked at this hardover book here, first edition: it was 1995). I then commenced reading them. I then got all angry because I thought they SUCKED. I then stopped reading them. And yet, here it is, in my house all these years later. I am going to put it in my laundry basket and let my cats pee on it. And you know what? I really should try to read them again. But I won’t. Most likely. Because in 1995 I was dumb because I was young so maybe they are good and I was wrong? Fuck that. Who cares. Bye.
Tags: vladimir nabokov
You should reread it. “Spring in Fialta!”
By the way, is it snowing in Brooklyn? By God, it’s snow-flurrying in Louisiana.
You should reread it. “Spring in Fialta!”
By the way, is it snowing in Brooklyn? By God, it’s snow-flurrying in Louisiana.
because I like you D’anthony, I will go read Spring in Fialta.
as long as you’re being mean, you should mention the cover, which I recall being a weird mixture of foil and semi-transparent plastic. understated, quite touch of e., right?
anyhow, no one here is as mean as the agent running a blog that posts the open lines of very bad queries:
http://peephole-people.livejournal.com/
as long as you’re being mean, you should mention the cover, which I recall being a weird mixture of foil and semi-transparent plastic. understated, quite touch of e., right?
anyhow, no one here is as mean as the agent running a blog that posts the open lines of very bad queries:
http://peephole-people.livejournal.com/
hey idiot: did you mean translucent when you said “semi-transparent”?
hey idiot: did you mean translucent when you said “semi-transparent”?
rain is a demon bitch
pr is the one
rain is a demon bitch
pr is the one
“love, laughter, saddness and light racism”
I have heard this, too, from my brother. Spring in Fialta.
In Seattle, it is hot and sunny. This is hot and sunny week. It might sound strange, but I wish it would rain.
I have heard this, too, from my brother. Spring in Fialta.
In Seattle, it is hot and sunny. This is hot and sunny week. It might sound strange, but I wish it would rain.
Update on my blog includes one requested element.
Update on my blog includes one requested element.
“What Really Irks Me is the Molestation”
“What Really Irks Me is the Molestation”
I liked reading that story, so thank you Mr. Smith. Obviously, he is a really really really great writer- a genuis, the favorite of many, including my much beloved Gaitskill. That said, I prefer the movement in Lolita to these stories, which sort of stand still for me. (And who was it that said Lolita ia a really silly book written bya very clever man? I don’t think I agree with that , but it is interesting to think about for a minute.) Greene was bettter at the novel than the story, too. I also would like to make it clear that I would chop off the left half of my vagina to write as well as Nabokov.
“A Batman cape, eleven rubber bands, an estranged father, and mental ping pong.”
“A Batman cape, eleven rubber bands, an estranged father, and mental ping pong.”
I just want everyone to know i don’t really hate my cats. I love them. But I am very frustrated with thier urination problems. Thank you.
spring in fialta is great
what about “natasha”? http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2008/06/09/080609fi_fiction_nabokov
spring in fialta is great
what about “natasha”? http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2008/06/09/080609fi_fiction_nabokov
That one is not in the book. I just printed it out and will read it now.
i liked it. nice “mood”. less word obsessed then spring in failta. but is that really the ending?
i liked it. nice “mood”. less word obsessed then spring in failta. but is that really the ending?
i dunno, i was kind of into it, the ending, i mean. nabokov is one of the few authors who i can feel totally manipulated by and yet also be ok with feeling that way.
i dunno, i was kind of into it, the ending, i mean. nabokov is one of the few authors who i can feel totally manipulated by and yet also be ok with feeling that way.
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