Pre-birthday post-literary rant volume 1
I haven't read John Irving's latest novel Until I Find You, so actually I should be quiet.
No, I'm not.
I just found out he has taken his main character to Finland.
What he founds out seems to be something like this:
1. Helsinki is a bad place for everyone with low self-esteem.
(Ok.)
2. Women in Helsinki don't shave their armpits.
(Did I say burn your razors? Forget it.)
3. Women in Helsinki aren't beautiful, they're sprightly.
(Dear Mr Author, I would say kiss my cutey cute cute butt, but I think it would be rude.
Oops, I said it. Oh well, I sold all my copies of your books two years ago anyway. Ha. Was that too brisk?)
Pre-birthday post-literary rant volume 2
We had the Book and Rose Day (World Book Day) on Wednesday.
If following the original Catalonian tradition, man gives a rose to his loved one and woman gives a book in exchange.
Excuse me?
Man gives a rose (3 €) and you'll have to buy a decent book (30 €).
What if it would be a World Home Appliance Day?
Man gives you a blender (30 €) and you'll have to buy him a dishwasher (300 €).
World Vehicle Day?
Man gives you a Lada (3000 €) and you'll have to buy him a BMW (30 000 €).
Ok . You got the idea.
I didn't even have a rose. Nor did I give any books.
So this was just a hypothetical rant by a sprightly Helsinkian.
Pre-birthday post-literary post-rant thing
After having anything where you can add the prefix post, you should stay in bed and light a cigarette.
I quit smoking 434 days ago.
So I kind of ------ - ----- instead. * I think. Bloody expensive rant.
* If you were awake late or early you saw what I did.
9 comments:
I'm an early to bed, early to rise sort of bloke, so missed your expensive rant.
Assuming your birthday is now imminent, have a good one.
I will tell you soon what I did.
I have had a wonderful day, thanks, but it's not my birthday yet.
Peeled a lover and
Called a Cobra (which in fact is a very fine looking phone and is in my wishlist.)
No, I did not do anything of those fine suggestions.
Ok, the game it is then.
b_ _ _ _ _ a h_ _ _ _.
What's the first prize?
Oh, I didn't think about that.
I'll make up something.
One b-word is right. I bought something.
(Ps. I am a malicious, fierce-tempered harpy-vixen already.)
Interpreter: surely 'an hotel'?
You became a hippy
You bought a henge
You bonked a horse?
This may get even sillier, or ruder, if you don't tell us soon.
I think that author's should be offered the chance of kissing the butt of someone they had wronged in their works as an alternative to very expensive and boring libel trials.
Of course there is a slight risk of encouraging irresponsibility amongst some authors, but what is art without risk?
What a fine idea.
Maybe I should have at least read the book first, before offering my butt kissed by some authors.
(This week I might have just taken a bit too much offence at everything what has been and what hasn't been written.)
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