I mean, as I thought, Women should not smoke, not because it severely injures their health, but because it turns me on so much I wanna go medieval over them, horresco referens, Jeff the attorney said, I’ll be damned if that girl isn’t my old Paris/Texas neighbor Sally, who told me fiction is about them muses, and that fiction is superior to mousic, music I mean, take for instance ‘Tender Is The Night’, I mean except for short stories, for short stories, she said, are by-products of lazy people who can’t do the novel thing, who can’t really write, said Jeff the attorney about what Sally said, who are not poets ‘nor even’ writers, they’re perpetual oysters that cannot buy a Oyster Perpetual Rolex, you get it?, ha-ha, she said that man I swear, and the thing is she’s my muse since then, since that night she told me all that about fiction and poets and novels and Moby Dick, and she knows all about the bel canto, she’s into it since she was 12 or something, her father, there’s always a father there to it, immer ein Vater dazu, her father used to take her to meet sopranos and gorgeous redhead women, actresses how do you call it, Jeff shut up man you’re spoiling my evening, No, Giulio, you’re the one who’s spoiling my stream of consciousness.
Escrito por , postado em 5 de agosto de 2011 às 10:30, arquivado em Contos e com as tags revolução francesa. Deixe um comentário ou veja a discussão em permalink.