Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Je ne t'aime plus

I gave in and splurged at HMV, plunking down the bucks for both of Manu Chao's solo albums: "Clandestino - Esperando La Ultima Ola" and "Proxima Estacion: Esperanza".

Never has anti-colonialism sounded so sexy.


Oh man, witnessing a gang bang is no fun. Today's film class focused on the aesthetics of the Dogme 95 movement. We watched Lars von Trier's 1998 representative work "The Idiots". Without revealing the story, I must say he sure knew what he was doing hiring well-endowed actors. One shower scene featured an erect penis definitely qualifiable for steady work at Medieval Times Dinner & Tournament as an impressive show prop. You could hang two towels and possibly a couple of owls on that thing. When the orgy scene appeared, I didn't know how to react. Obviously, I couldn't turn away in respect for the film, but watching all that hardcore fucking wasn't a turn-on either. Yet, despite the graphicness, I also didn't find the scenes objectionable because von Trier admirably (or shamelessly) adhered to (most of) the doctrines of Dogma: use of natural (unflattering) light, capturing real emotions, making do with untouched backdrops, etc.

Nevertheless, that dick could sure do some damage if it ever escaped from said Bounty man's pants. It has the skillz to take over Godzilla's job as a one-eyed danger stranger, leveling Tokyo with one swing of its, um, tail.

Ladies, take cover.


Readerdroid and I sat by a street fountain behind a torch juggling busker to discuss her unhealthy preoccupation with her (already petite) shape and size.

"But skinny girls turn heads!" she protested. "You wouldn't understand [because you're thin.]"

"So do trucks driving at 160 miles an hour," I countered. "Besides, you're one of the thinnest people I know," I tried reassuring the lass.

Expecting another wave of objections, I quickly added how disgusting lollipop women look. And if she was doing it for quickie attention, I suggested she gain a few pounds. I mean, if I were a man, I know I would want to grab onto something when I'm pushin' the cushion. If I had a hankering for coat-hangers, I'd work the Hollywood casting couch: there's enough starving starlets there to pass for one person. (They'll soon replace "hungry Africans" as the go-to Chinese phrase to get kids to eat.)

"Oh Lily," she said, sentimentally. "What would I do without you?"

I turned my head to face her, lips wet with grease, and handed her half my spinach pizza:


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