Holy cats, have you ever eaten soup with a bunch of people? Man, talk about gross! Even if everyone is trying their damnedest not to slurp, when there are enough heads at the table, someone is bound to fall into darkness. Not to mention the goddamn clanking of spoons! Sheesh!
Breezy
10 April 2009 ?Man, I was talking to my Italian friend Igrizzio today, talk about an Italian! He was wearing a Gianluigi Buffon jersey and no pants, with Gucci driving loafers but no car in sight. I offered him some of my prosciutto and taleggio and he smacked me in the mouth with a gondola! I’ll tell you what, that hurt a lot — inside. It hurt my face, too. He said he was sorry, but I wasn’t really convinced since he kept smacking me in the face as he gesticulated wildly to express his repentance. I finally told him that maybe he ought to just take his espresso machine elsewhere, so he hopped on his Vespa and drove off, immediately hitting two elderly women. He came back after a few minutes when he realized he hadn’t taken the Eucharist yet. When the service was over he came over to me and apologized again, this time taking care to control his normally flailing limbs. I saw that he was sincere, so we made up and went to Colosseum and fought some lions and killed the shit out of them.
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Nougat | Tagged: buffon, coliseum, colosseum, espresso, gianluigi buffon, gucci, italia, italian, italy, lions, loafer, roma, rome, venezia, venice | 
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Posted by hornblower
The chicken I would Raise
10 April 2009 ?The chicken I would raise would be the biggest, strongest, baddest chicken around, probably. I would feed it staples and thimbles, and train it from a young age to attack bigger chickens — to make it tougher, duh! I’d name it Leonard, or Jheri. If my chicken wanted to go to the movies or play the saxophone or something, I’d make him do some martial arts and then play some Jai Alai with me first. And we would win — every time.
3 Comments | Things I would do | Tagged: chicken | Permalink
Posted by hornblower
The Raisin I Would Eat
10 April 2009 ?The raisin I would eat would be an enormous raisin. I would make it myself, by drying an enormous purple grape on my windowsill. I’ll put the old grape out there on a Friday (!) and by Tuesday I’ll see if it’s at raisin status.
It might fester, out there on the windowsill. I’ll let it. I’ll wait. I’ve got patience.
It might stink, like rotten meat. I’ll stand it because I have to do.
It might get syrupy sweet, crusted over with natural sugar — an odd photosynthesis. All right with me. I’ve grown used to cloying saccharin.
Is it too big? It might expand, volume up, density down. Skin folded on itself paradoxically, sagging under its new, unwelcome weight. I’ll watch it sag under its own heavy load.
It might explode.
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Posted by hornblower
Weary road
10 April 2009 ?If you run for an hour and rest for an hour and then run for another hour, you’re ahead of the game. You have the rest of your life to count flowers in your neighbor’s garden, so you should just skip that and head straight for the porch. Ring the bell and let yourself in before anyone answers. When they ask what you’re doing you tell them, you say, Something I should have done a long time ago, and you drop down to the floor and you sit and hold your breath and they’ll give you a wide berth and you’ll stay as long as you like. Get up, then, and see if you can’t find your way to the backyard. You’ll be able to do it, guaranteed. You’ll be all the stronger for it.
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Posted by hornblower
The bar That I Would Own
10 April 2009 ?The bar that I would own would be in a barn. It would not be a difficult transition. Traffic would be slow, except on Sundays. I would stock the bar with plenty of drinks and then sell them for more money than what I paid for them. In this way I would make profit.
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Posted by hornblower
The Portrait That I Would Paint
10 April 2009 ?The portrait that I would paint would be of the Princess of England. It would be an organic interpretation of the Princess, incorporating elements of daily life and current events. In all likelihood, it would not bear any discernible resemblance to the Princess herself, looks-wise, but her close friends and handmaidens would almost certainly recognize the little touches that would make it a wonderful little treat.
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Posted by hornblower
The Dictionary That I Would Write
10 April 2009 ?The dictionary that I would Write would only have happy words, like “raisin” and “January.” Sad words like “cauliflower” and “geranium” would be eliminated like *that* yes sir. My dictionary would be the most popular dictionary in the nation on account of the grassroots movement.
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Posted by hornblower
Paranoia
9 April 2009 ?Friendzo on a rope swing calls to me
and I start.
I blink at him twice, eyelids heavy with morning’s weight
and I stare.
A split log below his feet, he jumps anyway, letting go and landing dangerous
and I don’t look away, yet.
He’s walking at me now, I know I’m breathing because I hear myself breathing
and I start to walk.
We’re here now, together, and he’s smaller than I’ve ever seen him
and I open my mouth.
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Posted by hornblower
Grog
9 April 2009 ?I punched Friendzo in the mouth yesterday because he was asking for it. Fucking Friendzo.
