Something to Read

Three books came in the mail today, in a little box, so small that even though I knew they were all coming at once, I thought for sure they had left on out. They didn't: 'If Only It Were True' by Marc Levy, 'Naked Lunch' by William S. Burroughs, 'Roughing It' by Mark Twain. I'm still re-reading the game though, and Blake the seventeen year old comedian wants to borrow it next, so I should probably either shit or get off the pot by the end of the week on that one... I'll probably give it to him on Friday. The book, not a bag of poo.

Today I went out to Fed Square thinking I had a tour on but Claire was already waiting there talking to tourists in her red Peek Tours shirt so I quickly threw up my hands and said, “You can take it!” followed by something along the lines of, “WOMP WOMP!” I came along with her group for the first forty-five minutes, and then bailed to come back home and start reading the Marc Levy book which I bought on recommendation from French Girl Overseas. When I got home I opened 'On The Road' and continued typing that out.

After about an hour of 'On The Road' my fingers started to get a little inaccurate and lost time from revised spellings and adding words to dictionary was becoming a source of frustration. I stopped, ready to red some Marc Levy, and thought I'd tell France about my package this morning and let her know that I was about to commence... but I fumbled, and gave myself an out, saying, “I'll probably start it this week.” What else had my distracted mind concocted for me to do in the interim?

I spent probably half an hour in the poisoned haze of Facebook, and then closed my laptop and picked up 'The Game' by Neil Strauss and opened to where my worn-out bookmark told me I was up to. 'The Game' is a book that can really be opened at any point – I read it cover to cover the first time, and am doing so again this time, but I know that I could open it to any page and start reading and still learn something no matter which chapter I landed on. It's sort of like (well, it's exactly like actually) the book Winston gets from the Inner Party Guy in '1984'; he says almost these exact words of the book which was allegedly from Goldstein and details the 'true' state of the world as opposed to the Party line. He opens it at random and reads. 'The Game' is a phenomenal book, everyone in the world should be made to read it.

Oh! I forgot! I ordered some clothes too, that's right, a pair of jeans and a pair of pants from Criminal Damage, a site that Fiji Anderson recommended me a few weeks ago at lunch with Phillos Portellos and Todd on Brunswick St, I had a focaccia, Phil had a Turkish Breakfast or some shit, can't remember what Fiji or Todd had, I nearly left my jacket there after picking it up from Richie's (Fiji) place after leaving it there the previous Friday night because I was wearing too many layers and was getting hot I didn't get in to any clubs that night that was when I decided I need to change my wardrobe around which lead to me buying some new shoes and shirts and the purchases today and some future purchasesarecomingimexcitedaboutgettingawholebunchofnewclothes...

Stop procrastinating fuckhead...

Okay, I'm starting the Marc Levy book now.

Peace, Taco.