an art lost to me. but not to others.....
five syllables, then seven, then five. three lines
thanks for your contributions. awaiting more.
king gone thrill dead stop
minion flown coop full stop what
fresh hell awaiteth?
the burden burned bright
before blurtata's blunder
brought blazes and blood.
chasing lola. I
chase lola, night, day, here, there
lola? Come, ho' bag
31 May, 2006
30 May, 2006
TODAY is the day:
May 29 (Bloomberg) -- Sicilians re-elected Salvatore
Cuffaro, currently on trial for allegedly aiding the Mafia, to
head the regional government over Rita Borsellino, the sister of
a magistrate killed by the mob in 1992.
A bit over a month ago...
April 11 (Bloomberg) -- Sicilian Mafia boss Bernardo
Provenzano was arrested in an abandoned country house above his
native town of Corleone after almost 43 years as a fugitive.
Provenzano's arrival at the Palermo police station was
accompanied by a mob of police rejoicing and citizens shouting
``Assassin!'' and ``Bastard!''
29 May, 2006
28 May, 2006
got hair in a girl
that flows to her bones
and a comb in her pocket
if the winds get blown
stripes on her eyes when she walks slow
but her face falls down
when she go, go, go
black tear falling on my lazy queen
gotta tattooed tit say number 13
music to listen to while driving home
lisa: this one is for you, and goldies. and the 10 PLUS fuking years i've known you. followed by YOUR VERSION of how we met and became fast friends.
``...THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED:
I moved into GOLDIES and had an immediate HEART ATTACK as I had NEVER lived in STUDENT ACCOMMODATIONS before (lived in a flat in Milan & Florence). When I saw the bathroom, I BURST INTO HYSTERICS!
Word got out among the AMERICAN girls in the hall that there was a HIGH MAINTENANCE EURO/NEW YORK CHICK doing an MA, so they all came to get me out of my room (where I was contemplating paint samples, and chintz in the first of a million attempts to LIVEN UP THE PLACE). They saw me and almost died, compared to their home grown Birkenstock wearing tree hugging candlemaking nature, I was POSITIVELY exotic and WOMANLY.
So they made me join them for a JACKET POTATO in the KITCHEN. There I saw, sitting ALONE and covered in far too many clothes a curious young woman who refused to make eye contact and darted around in a rather CLUMSY WAY. I asked the Americas just out of the States (I swear some of them had never seen an ocean before let alone an ECCENTRIC) WHO IS THAT? They replied A WEIRD ITALIAN ENGLISH GIRL.
So that night, starved and avoiding the kindergarten brigade, I made my way to the kitchen determined to eat food that didn't recall second world war rations. Over an avocado and bag of GUMMIES you appeared raiding the cupboards looking for GRANOLA.
I approached YOU, you GRUNTED, I invited you over to my room for TEA, you grunted and came over, I fed you gummies and told you that GUMMIES were a sublime food, you grunted. The next morning I, wearing a smile and highheels, pounded on your door as I thought we should walk to Uni together....you grunted and joined me wearing your PJ's....that is how it all started and we were inseparable since then. This occurred day 2 or 3. The Americas avoided me since then and I was grateful. A week later we adopted ROD....''
cruising in seventh heaven
22 May, 2006
This is nothing,' cried she: 'I was only going to say that heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy. That will do to explain my secret, as well as the other. I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven; and if the wicked man in there had not brought Heathcliff so low, I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.'
VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY UPSETTING NEWS - have been festering on this for a while and no one seems to share my anguish, shock and concern. so here i go.
CK (better known by those in the know as the fictitious love of my life, after kong) and Ellen Page have signed on to star in the drama, An American Crime for First Look Studios.
The movie is the true story of Sylvia Likens, a 16-year-old girl who died in 1965 while under the care of a woman named Gertrude Baniszewski. The Hollywood Reporter adds she put Sylvia through an ordeal that included beatings in the guise of discipline, burnings with cigarettes and matches and scalding hot baths, among other tortures. Encouraging a Lord of the Flies-type cult, Baniszewski involved her own children and children from her Indianapolis neighborhood in the punishments.
Keener is playing Baniszewski, while Page plays Likens; Tommy O'Haver has written the script and will direct An American Crime. blah blah. OKSO.
readers. am horrified.
O: `` ck is starting to play some rather frumpy-looking characters.''
thanks oats for reminding me of this:
a few days later........SOMEONE thought to bring up 40-year-old virgin
f: er. ok. how did the granny thing come up?
o: dunno, but you KEPT THAT FROM ME. she IS playing frumpy parts
f: SHE IS HOT IN THAT MOVIE.
o: she's a GRANNY?????????????????????? pal. you are LOSING it. get a fuking grip
f: SHE IS NOT A GRANNY. she's young
When best friends become old marrieds
a one-act play
f: i expect you to burn a CD TONIGHT of oldham
O: errrrr. heil
f: don't err me or gimme the blank cds back
O: don't order me around or you'll lose access to your font of music
f: stop being a grump
O: you started it
f:you've errring and oaty all day.
O: and i am never grumpy until you start telling me that
f: you were scowl central this morning.
O: no. i walked in and you didn't even bat an eyelash when i said
hey. just scowled at your screen. so i knew, of course, that you
were hung over
f: i was *NOT* hungover
The characters herein are fictitious and any resemblance to any other person, real or fictitious, is purely coincidental
after the credits
f: might get a wee icecream
O: i love how you always say wee or little when really you mean masive
O: fix that typo in my speech! i said massive. not masive
still a bit tipsy from last night not to mention incensed that the bar i happened to be at refused to serve my drink of choice: vodka and red bull (``E' pericoloso'' --clearly they haven't seen me without it)
-- FRIDAY partied successfully. flirtata emerged after a couple of drinks. crowbar emerged after a few more.
-- SATURDAY passed out on an oaty futon watching films. fell in love with an ape. more fodder to fuel new-found obsession welcomed
-- SUNDAY ran a 5K. no photographic evidence (shorts and sports bra are not fetching) but lots of witnesses to attest to the fact that one can be a runner in spite of the boozing and the smokin'. naps, unimpressed with my sprinting off in defiance of an agreement to run together, broke a record getting back to the house. she couldn't wait to tuck into a bowl of ravioli at 11:07 a.m.
20 May, 2006
19 May, 2006
Il nome è di origine greca. Deriva infatti da agathos che significa "buona, virtuosa". Si racconta che Sant'Agata, vergine siciliana di 13 anni, morta nel 251, patrona di Catania e delle città che sorgono ai piedi dell'Etna, arrestò miracolosamente l'eruzione del vulcano salvandone in questo modo le popolazioni. Sant'Agata è protettrice delle balie, delle nutrici e dei tessitori. Si festeggia l'onomastico il 5 febbraio.
18 May, 2006
Oddone is busting at the seams............
1. not sure who is sleeping with me tonight. but i will be equipped. am crowbarring as i type
2. SHIT. but giulia is ringing the bell at midnight and i have to be up to to let her in
3. patrick is arriving tomorrow. where will HE sleep
suddenly a house of 4 has swelled to the size of a small africa nation (PS nigeria has 150 million dwellers)
TAKING A KIP BEFORE THE BELL RINGS
PS where are my pants? i cannot possibly open the door commando. or can i?
My evening took an upswing, unexpectedly............
the occasion: A rare public appearance by (SWOON, PANT, WOW, SWOOSH, BLEEEEEEEE) to promote his first book in 22 years, which one hopes will help him recoup some of the money his former manager and LOVER FUKING STOLE!
the object of my affection: Leonard Cohen
the revelation: I'm a pathetic groupie. I'm uncool. i love old men? no no no. blah. bow. oooooooooooooooh. am shallow and superficial. i have NOTHING interesting to say. am a blubbering fool. am a FLUFFER (oops, now that means something else). cohen is reduced to coming to bloomberg. that makes me want to cry? that c*** forced him out of self-imposed exile. i'll kill her.
for details of living vicariously please consult:
OR HOW I KISSED LEONARD (SORT OF)
Today, to keep sadness at bay, I need my fix of frost..........
Dust always blowing about the town,
Except when sea-fog laid it down,
And I was one of the children told
Some of the blowing dust was gold.
All the dust the wind blew high
Appeared like god in the sunset sky,
But I was one of the children told
Some of the dust was really gold.
"Why, land is the only thing in the world worth workin' for, worth fightin' for, worth dyin' for, because it's the only thing that lasts.........."
WHO CAN TAKE THE BEST PICTURE OF THE GREAT OAK TO GO RIGHT............
NOW am taking submissions for the best picture of the great oak in the house of the 3 pucc........
looking for something large. majestic...very gone with the windy.
the winner will be treated to my very own version of the prodigy, called "snap my picture'' (er...or maybe not)
something nice anyway. not my cooking, or my feet. or anything like that.
QUICK HELP ME FILL THE GAPING HOLE
"it will come to you this love of the land, there is no getting away from it if you're irish..."
17 May, 2006
CLUB MAREMMA MAIALA
for a more accurate, not to mention racier version of events please consult Captain Oats' blog NOW as i feel those entries cannot be surpassed. i arrived when the party was in full swing -- arms flaying, bodies stacked up -- donning a venezuela rising t shirt, a deer-in-headlights expression and a heart pumping on too many red bulls. many thanks to brewster, the little one, who posted these from home, for leaving out shots of gratuitous nudity and/or of a pornographic nature. those can be found on ebay.
16 May, 2006
Impromptu blog entry joint effort by P & F
Flavia has her own radio show, called......"Chasing Lola", P is the producer. intro....cue ROCK LOBSTER by the B52s.
we start off by asking for callers to let us know where they last saw her.
caller 1: hello?
f: hey. you're on air. give us your name and tell where
the hell lola is. she hasn't been seen in days.
caller 2: am her boyfriend. can you stop stalking her please?
f: can you get off my show and stop stopping my fun? next!
caller1: "um, hi."
Flav: "who is this, please?"
Caller 1: "Er...this is Lola."
P: Go to a commercial, she's fainted!
caller 1: yeah hi
f: you're on air. shoot. when did you last see lola
caller 2: well, she saw her in dark shades and a bin liner in
f: goodness when was this?
caller 3: about half an hour ago
f: sorry got to go................taxi!
p: fraP get back here!!
f: blah blah
p: you're fired
f: and that listeners is what i call chasing lola. seeya
Antonia -- where to start. well she was with me between the ages of 10 and 13 or was it 11 and 14. she was in on the infamous alessia-took-a-bite-off-la-nonna's-arm incident and i spent a glorious month with her in the the country when my parents flapped off to morocco and i hid my terrible grades at the bottom of their suitcase. she recounted with brisk humour the lengths la tiz went to hide my father's bottles. including at the bottom of my toy box. she reminds me of my childhood. she is full of andalucian warmth and wisdom. i wept buckets on seeing her. during and after. she is 76. in good shape. she still dances the tango. she chokes up thinking about her husband florentin who died 6 years ago of lung cancer, and frowns at my puffing at countless cigarettes between entrees. "se lo digo a tu madre" . i wonder if i'll see her again. she left me her pink hanky. it's covered in my snot. already.
comaaaaaaaaaaaaandante chhhhhhhhhhe guevaraaaaaaaaaaa
13 May, 2006
Emerson: Can anybody remember when the times were not hard and money not scarce?
Thornton Wilder: Money is like manure; it's not worth a thing unless it's spread around encouraging young things to grow.
f: i love manure
Voltaire: When it's a question of money, everybody is of the same religion.
09 May, 2006
08 May, 2006
"all those moments will be lost, like tears in rain''
to avoid that ever happening again, this blog exists. so not one moment will be lost. no matter how mundane or common place. or fabulous and life altering. i don't care. a weekend of gardening. with a friend lost and refound, with my second brother, with kibbutz, and simply, the cubans. nothing much happened but it was beautiful. like our house. a work in progress. as so much else.