Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
i met a girl in a little country town who wanted to become a nurse and couldn't wait to leave school
to gain some experience, after taking her exams, she worked part-time for two weeks during her final summer term, at a local home that provided sheltered accomodation for the elderly
before catching the bus home to her village that afternoon, she ran around to my place to describe how, on her very first morning, she was quite startled when they asked her to go and bathe an old lady who was no longer able to leave her room
what did you do ?
i rolled up my sleeves of course !
.... and as she was undressing her, so she discovered that the old lady had a multitude of beautifully drawn tattoos ...
what did you think when you saw them ? i asked
i said to her ... blimey, i bet you could tell me a few stories ! where did you get them tattoos ?
and the old lady's reply began ... i was a dancer in paris during the nineteen twenties, my dear ...
next afternoon, same time, the girl came back to see me again
she had reported to the matron for instructions that morning
i'm afraid your old lady has died in the night ... could you go in and bathe her again ?
did you ? i asked
of course ! said the schoolgirl
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Saturday, January 19, 2008
you couldn't ask for better evocations of the western landscape than cormac macarthy's
he is a writers' writer
blood meridian and no country for old men are beautifully written stories which i regret having read because they are so disturbingly violent
Sunday, January 13, 2008
a relic of the salters' guild ... i think their motto translates as "salt flavours everything"
the original plot seems a little lacking in proper drama ... maybe i can re-introduce the menage a trois scene, deleted by austen's publishers in a moment of editorial pusillanimity, where lord nelson and lady hamilton, having been thrown out of beckford's fonthill on christmas eve, make their way north through blizzards to gargle brandy with mister d'arcy and his cousin mister rochester on new year's eve