i want one

the inadvertent detonator of a crazed internet phenomenon


from the yoddling gay boys touching each other up

to the proverbial asia schoolgirl

a taste of things to come. in less than 48 HOURS i will be HERE for the F-3 SUMMIT


p.s. Z's account of our landing and F-3 coming together for first time since 2000.
z
tells billy for months and months about fraps impending
visit. trills with delight on drive there. can barely contain
excitement. positions self so will be first thing fraps see
when stepping out in nigeria. reaction: p: (monotone) oh, z is
here. f (doesn't look up from mobile.) grunt.

I imagine this midnight moment's forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.

Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow
A fox's nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.

The thought fox

Can a movie seem like a disaster and still convince you you're seeing something bold and new? Olivier Assayas' unclassifiable "demonlover" (calling it a "cyberthriller" reeks of a determination to shoehorn it into a category in which it will not fit) is a mixture of folly and brilliance, often at the same time. The movie feels like a shambles, and yet it's a stunning example of a director in complete control of his material. (Charles Taylor, Salon, Sept. 19, 2003)

read the full review

from la creme de la creme, to the crap de la crap

'CRACK TURNED WHITNEY INTO A SEX-CRAZED MONSTER' --Says Sister-In-Law

"The shocking photos and our story made headlines around the world. Now Tina has
told of the insatiable s*x drive that will shock and appal the millions of fans
who have followed Whitney's career since "Saving All My Love For You" reached
No.1 in 1985. Two decades later, the Grammy-winning singer isn't saving her love
at all she's giving it away!"

(National Enquirer - LOVE IT )

favourite person to do stuff with

oats! where is oats!?

milena tapped into her thawing skills, i was in awe. before proceeding to suffer from complete memory loss

HOODIES ALL ROUND!!!

and just to lighten the mood. yeah, i really want to see this film
described as "acerbic and sweet" a living contradiction i embrace

lest i forget, instuctions to oats:
ashes in the ocean, as far away as you can take them in any seven of them. and throw that pile of dust with a swift thrust and a firm wrist of your right hand
maybe while listening to 1,000 oceans

not to be morbid, but just seizing the day (today), so you know.
awaiting counter-instructions.

PS AND this made my day

ck wanted to be a nun

?

nina nastasia

was wondering what happened to her, thinking about her, with wistfulness. and well, here is my answer.

T'amo senza sapere come, ne quando, ne quando,
ne da dove
t'amo direttamente
senza problemi
ne orgoglio, cosi ti amo
perche' non so amarti altrimenti

pablo neruda

well, well, well. on monday i'll be doing my very first ``call-in talk'' responding to keen listeners' questions and answers about the italian election. everything you ever wanted to know about the oompa loompa and ham features. but were too afraid to ask. people care apparently. who would have thought that locals tuning into the ``Minnesota Public Radio'' (the land of FARGO) would give a toss. i plan on being irreverent and drunk (aka true to myself), live from maremma maiala. among the cow pats and the angry boar.

one act play (verbatim): CKoned-out


f: who has shared screen time with
Sean Penn, Edward Norton,
John Malkovich and Daniel Day-Lewis?!
oats: CKone!!!!!!!

seconds later...
f: If you give a character room to breath, they come alive.
said
by who?
oats: PAL, how often can we play ckone?
f: forever
?
oats: errrrrr

WE ARE IN HER HANDS


that's right folks. in rita we bestow our trust. 96. blind. deaf. this is what we're reduced to. THINGS are SO TIGHT that ham features will have to rely on a handful of elderly life senators to FORM A GOVERNMENT. As the oldest of the old, the venerable Rita will preside the first meeting of the Senate and speak on behalf of all the life senators on what position to take. Lucky for us, they seem to have the right idea: ``Se il presidente Ciampi respinge le sue dimissioni, Berlusconi gliele confermi e se ne vada alle Bahamas.'' (Cossiga).

clearly this country's human talent pool has run dry. and we are relying on what we can salvage from the turn of the century. RITA I LOVE YOU. rock my world.

Elections 2006 in one word - CHECKMATE (in 3 moves)

Gwragedd Annwn

by Micha F. Lindemans (© MCMXCV - MMVI Encyclopedia Mythica™)
Water-spirits from Wales. These lovely creatures are known to choose mortal men as their husbands. One legend has it that they live in a sunken city in one of the many lakes in Wales. People claim to have seen towers under water and heard the chiming of bells.
In earlier times, there used to be a door in a rock and those who dared enter through it came into a beautiful garden situated on an island in the middle of a lake. In this garden there were luscious fruits, beautiful flowers and the most lovely music, besides many other wonders. Those brave enough to enter were welcomed by the Gwragedd Annwn and were invited to stay as long as they wanted, on the condition that they never took anything back from the garden.
One visitor ignored the rule and took a flower home with him. As soon as he left the island, the flower disappeared and he felunconsciousus to the ground. From that day on, the door has been firmly closed and none has ever passed through it again.

mmm.. basically, don't fuk with the the goo-RAHG-eth AHN-oon.
we've driven the wee ones underground when we stopped believing in them. mmm. or perhaps they found us so revolting that they really wanted nothing more to do with us. also perfectly legitimate. mah, i do miss them. a world without faeries is is no world at all. there is a beautiful lake near our house. a perfect refuge for a GOO-RAHG. i should pop over to say hi.

since i do believe in faeries and since when i am slightly at a loss for things to do (but not feeling up to more mentally taxing pursuits), i take tests, this is what i did, shortly before going to bed. what kind of faeire would you be?
I WAS: the Gwragedd Annwn, or Lake Faerie. Pure and innocent, the Gwragedd Annwn believe in cleansing of the soul in order to live a fulfilled life. They are gifted in the art of Healing and live in the shallow waters of the oceans.

Color: Turquiose
Metal: Mercury
Time: Dusk
Element: Water
Attribute: Light
Court: Seelie (Blessed) Court

take the faerie test too! -- the japanese animation is a bit er...blu!

CAPTURING THE MOMENT
everyone takes a ride on THE GREEN HOODIE (TGH). hello (anya)anka!

tagline: "love knows no bounds"

i concur, with the necrophiliac

guess the scene and i'm yours forever

the greatest television series of all times, i think
unparalleled. Unsurpassed. i think i might have to get it, plop it in the country and watch it right through on the big screen. all er...750 minutes of it. chronicling the decline and fall of the raj is no laughing matter.

looking for distractions. i think i'm still reverberating from the shock of last night's closing campaign speeches. the horror of it all. i have to stop thinking about it or i will never stop throwing up.

fuk me sideways with a chainsaw. i've just poured myself a stiff drink just to let it all unwind and entwine

i've come to a realization tonight. not sure i can call it an epiphany. but it's just, simply, this.
i LOVE this country. and for someone as rootless and confused as i, it's some feat. I HATE this country, and for someone as judgmental as i, hey, that's no surprise. more to the point, i LOVE and HATE its south, north, east and west. i hate it enough to subliminally, mischievously, callously, short-sightedly want berlusconi to win because professionally,hey, he's more "fun,'' "rationally" i think to pick Prodi is the "lesser of two evils," but BY JOVE do i love this country enough to LOATHE seeing a pair of would-be pensioners SLUG IT out in pitiful and demeaning fashion, and to ABHOR it being the mockingbird of the international press. and to think that after 50 years of ROT, it's shameful nothing better has emerged. must something DIE for a phoenix to emerge from the ashes. must we sink ROCK BOTTOM before being reborn. is THIS rock bottom? i kind of hoped it was but, no, i think not. WHO MUST I KILL for something to change? what must i do to spare myself hearing the word "communist'' thrown around like a cheap trinket, by turns a sickle and a hammer. is italy ready to move ON? are we ready to offload the relics of our past? are we ready to give up holding on to our glorious history, confront our ABYSMAL present and face our UNCERTAIN future? someone throw me a bone. because this is where i am at. my life, by and against my will, is intrisically tied to this country and its people. i relate to everything and nothing. in utter despair: i clutch, randomly, onto this

Old Lorenz Lowenhielm: You must also know that I shall be with you every day that is granted to me from now on. Every evening I shall sit down to dine with you. Not with my body, which is of no importance, but with my soul. Because this evening I have learned, my dear, that in this beautiful world of ours, all things are possible. IBabette's Feast)

yours black and white (grey exists but it jars with my complexion), i hope for such a miracle
give me a FIRE STARTER

lets get this show on the road.

8:40 p.m. on the late shift
staid snacks. stale coffee. a fuking depression prospect. not to mention the disparate, motley handful of fascists in the Piazza del Popolo, boasting a mascot in the shape of a man-sized furry Winnie the Pooh posing for photos with the KIDS. the number of knob-jerking carabinieri outnumber them 2 to 1.
luckily edwin, chichi from NY, intervenes with a apt request:

edwin: hips don't lie
Reply:
eh?
Reply:
??? the new shakira song/video. not playing there yet? all over
hte radio here, but itunes won't have it till april 16 and i am
dying to hear/see it. of course it seems to be all over the
internet, but nothing will play for me. dying
Reply:
are you serious??? I WILL TRACK IT DOWN NOW.
Reply:
supposedly she made the song last minute and re-released her
latest album. vol. 2 with that song as the bonus

2 Minutes later.....

flavia: here you go, click HIPS DON'T LIE
Reply:
ohhhhhh ohhhhplaying. oh my GOD >.. OHHHH OOHHHH
Reply:
leave it to the FRAP
Reply:
i can't believe i waited this long to ask you. u r a goddest
Reply:
say more. keep it coming. does HIPS do not LIE
Reply:
u should be dating shakira. i can so see u two

privately i snigger, AMEN

now what do i do in this hell joint for the next 15 minutes? damn, i miss chichi, that furry ball of unadulterated love full of unexpected wells of wisdom. take me back to 2000 or thereabouts when we climbed our desks and oblivious to the video cams spying our movements shaking the foundations of the building singing, yelping, dancing and jumping to Madonna's ``Music.'' No hag is complete without her fag.

yours depressingly chronicling the dying days of late-shift reporter.

fish sleep with their eyes wide open. in italian you can say"sognare ad occhi aperti" which more or less means, to be a dreamer, i wonder if they had fish in mind. and since i relate most things to film. if fish can dream. maybe they can even fly.

"And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had"

I WANT TO SLEEP FOREVER
with only a perfect sun to wake me minutes, days, years from now. turning me into a zebra of light and darkness. rip van winkle me.

can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep. can't sleep.

L is for the laughter we'll be hearing
A is for the alcohol we'll drink
G is for the Ganja we will smoke
O is for the Opulent Caftans we'll wear
S is for the Silly men and women we'll enchant

authorship to the inimitable pfrap
for those not in the know. fraps are going to lagos. i remember when i riled z over new year saying, sorry babes, but.....LAOS not LAGOS. now i have been harping on about afrrrriccca and the blixen-esque references to sweaty faces of coffee pickers for a while. partly because half me doesn't quite believe it (z..........our tickets?! thought you were pimping your rear to a frenchman). partly because i have been vastly irresponsible in (not) sorting out malaria tablets and jabs and er...a few other things. however, part of me clearly is taking the whole enterprise most seriously since i've got footwear for the TOXIC feet. flip flops with a little brazilian flag and (YAY) red trainers to match the LITTLE RED RUCKSACK (LRR). my feet will be fully aired, ventilated and a pocket-sized incinerator will be brought along. sao tome here we come, cause lagos sounds a bit of an armpit.

nitemare hippie girl

god bless lisa, the little pea, who SOMEHOW managed to get herself embroiled in the BELOW. and spend an evening of bonding with the man best known for "You spin me right round baby, right round" in an S&M club. kudos.

From ITV
Pete Burns claimed he was assaulted in his home in a frantic call to police in the early hours of the morning.

Cross-dresser Pete, 45, dialled 999 in hysterics early on Monday claiming he had been the victim of a sex attack and officers rushed to his home in Notting Hill, west London.

Police confirmed a man was arrested at Pete's flat who was later released on police bail.

The wacky singer, who was reported to have recently had a spell in a mental hospital, commended the police for their prompt assistance.

He spoke out in the hope others who had claimed they were victims of sex attacks would come forward.

He said: "It's for anybody that feels they are the underdogs of society. They really have got the support of the police.

"It's not because they're well paid. A lot of them are like guardian angels."

today is the anniversary of the pope's death. i remember clearly where i was this time last year. cooped up in the vatican press room for the previous 48 hours. no need to go into what i was thinking or feeling. a lot of it had nothing to do with the pope. and i was living on pure adrenalin. and grateful for it. not sure it even matters what people may think or say about JPII, catholic or not, anti-clerical or not. all i do know is that for whatever reason, today i re-read his last testament and burst into tears in pretty much the same way i had back then amid the unbecoming mob of cannibalistic journalists scratching and pulling at the handful of copies being distributed of the aformentioned text. am silently thankful that today i find myself in my room, alone, far away from the madding crowds.

it's in the last line., i think. because he got something right. in the end all we have are our memories. some we find. some we lose. yet they are all that is left of us.

"As the end of my life approaches I return with my memory to the beginning, to my parents, to my brother, to the sister (I never knew because she died before my birth), to the parish in Wadowice, where I was baptized, to that city I love, to my peers, friends from elementary school, high school and the university, up to the time of the occupation when I was a worker, and then in the parish of Niegowic, then St. Florian’s in Krakow, to the pastoral ministry of academics, to the milieu of ... to all milieux ... to Krakow and to Rome ... to the people who were entrusted to me in a special way by the Lord.''

“In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum.”

Philip Larkin - This Be The Verse

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

not sure i agree with the last line, but larkin has always had a special resonance for me, and many others, no doubt.
passed on from father to daughter, oh, quite a number of years ago

"everything begins and ends at exactly the right time and place"

words that have haunted me since i first heard them, 15 years ago

Click

today 4 trees were planted in our house in maremma. i cannot wait to hug them, wearing daisy chains.

aural heroin for the uninitiated. sing it, kermit. and props to naomi for all their mindblowing way before their time graphics. even if damon & naomi, well, suck.

signed, ganz

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