Saturday, 6 February 2010

I want Augusten Burroughs' sperm for my babies.

(Y) thanks.

So I read Running With Scissors some time ago having discovered the film with my sister, did some coursework on it, read Dry, read A Wolf At The Table, and just in these past couple of weeks I read You Better Not Cry. And all I can say is that this man is just like the most talented carpenter except he works with words, and more than once I had to stop and just breathe and pause at some of his writing. I also laughed on the subway. Some of my goosebump moments were transcribed to my person, so I'm gonna put them here too :)

"Step by step, mistake by mistake, choice by choice, everything that I had ever done, every right instead of left, had been designed to get me here. "
(and the entire surrounding passage on meeting George)

"I would have laughed in your face.
I did not leave cookies out for Santa.
And I did not believe in destiny.

When Santa is standing right in front of you, soot from your chimney staining his fine red suit and he is flushed and breathing hard and smells like frost and sweat and smoke and his jacket is linted with coarse reindeer hairs and there is reindeer shit on his boots and his eyes twinkle with preposterous joy, you simply cannot say, "I don't believe in you," and turn your back on him.

Because he will grip you by the shoulders and wrench you around and he will bring his bristly mouth to yours and blow
down your throat
you are so full

(this near killed me this did; death by beauty)