take a well-earned break from factional politics to breed carp on your estate in the tradition of world-weary Roman patricians. get bored after about a fortnight and go back to politics, newly armed with extensive knowledge of carp breeding with which to amuse and/or bore friends and acquaintances
you think oscar wilde’s gucci floral suit wearing angel ass spent his last gay breath making a witty remark about the wallpaper so that we could all live like a bunch of repressed 16th century puritans? are those glisteningly fresh rose petals going to throw themselves all over your scarlet chaise lounge and fake fur duvet? is that first edition of albert camus you bought at a thrift shop in paris going to lovingly read itself? y’all are really out there saying god gave us the ability to order cinnamon cappuccinos and buy herringbone tweed blazers and recite ovid to our friends only so we could not do those things? as it is with all paths in life, so long as you’re self-aware and not bothering or hurting anyone, you go ahead and be as pretentious as you want! it’s so much fun!!
‘pretentious’ is a made-up word by people trying to shame you into a safe little boring easily-labelled box. don’t fall for it.
“in case anyone was wondering, yes, that is me running naked throug the agora with a lantern every day, yelling for an honest man as my dick swings magnificently in the breeze”
yeah i only own this cup, yuo could say i
live the simplest life (sees 9 yo child drink from hands) oh shit, oh fuck (zeus
strikes me w a thunderbolt bc of my hubris
(after telling alexander the great to get out of my sunlight) its a tough job out here to own all the fools and trolls on twitter dot com but its a burden im willing to bear
“shitting in a bush outside the marketplace when i hear a bard reciting homer. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg”
“i will never log off!” i holler as i am dragged from the agora for jerking off near the red figure boar vases
“im going to hold my breath until all
the trolls in athens are banned" i say. immediatly i collapse dead on the
ground and a dog eats my corpse as my soul descends to tartarus
(while holding a plucked chicken with fake nails glued to its feet) “it is with a heavy heart that i must announce that plato is at it again”
Dolly Haas as Pat Caverley in Girls Will Be Boys [d: Marcel Varnel, 1934]
This is in no way the English version of the previous year’s German Viktor und Viktoria, (it doesn’t have the knowing sophistication of that film’s genderswapping, for a start, although the ‘reveal’ scene is not at all coy) or the following year’s American Sylvia Scarlett (how I love the mid-30s trend for women dressing as men) but it’s a lovely little comedy, has Esmond Knight at his dark-eyed thick-haired swooniest as the romantic interest, and Dolly Haas is bloody marvellous as Pat; adorable, boyish, bolshy and delivers my menswear trifecta of tweed/dressing gown/chunky knit, with bonus evening wear.
Mooncustafer 