Tag Archives: thomas pynchon

Pynchon in Public

6 May

As it happens, I seem to be gathering more posts about Pynchon than pussy. But a man who can occupy a woman’s mind, it so much more powerful than one that can occupy her body. A man who can occupy both is an angel, because my body needs the tender touch of feathers on my skin at the same time as I need to be held in his strong grip.

What can I say? I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m an angel under-cover… Or was it I’m an angel under the covers… cause unless I’m a fallen angel, that is far from the truth. I’m a perfect angel out of the covers. A true gentle-lady. The kind who lifts a pinky while she drinks. The kind who stops to help elderly ladies cross the street, no matter how much they protest.

Get away from me, I ain’t giving you my wallet!

But ma’am I just want to help…

I don’t need your stinking help.

At least let me carry your grocery bags.

Why so you can runoff with them? I wasn’t born yesterday.

Yes ma’am you got me. I was going to rob you of your potatoes and onions.


little old lade

i’m just jealous of all that junk she got in that trunk.

While we’re on the topic of angels, I would just like to clarify when I die and go to heaven I do not want 52 virgins. I don’t want to teach lovemaking classes when I get to heaven. Give me 52 men who know what they are doing. I might even settle for some well-educated, well-researched virgins if I have no other options.

The point of this ramble is to say how excited I am about May 8th. Its the best day of the year after sex in public day, which I might add goes down surprisingly well with the neighbors, it is Pynchon in Public day.

For a work of dense (like a black hole) literature, Gravity’s Rainbow has enough one-liners to entertain the Last Action Hero audience, so as I’ve spent 9 months reading it, it is time for this baby to come out in public.

Gravity’s Rainbow – Will Pynchon make me cream my panties?

21 May

I might write filthy, dirty, sex stories, but I’m still a writer. I still have an undying obsession with literature and an adoration of the classics. Those geniuses who cause millions of literary erections and made many women cream their panties with the word play. Thomas Pynchon is one of those greats and I’m almost ashamed I haven’t started working on him earlier.

Gravity’s Rainbow is a huge poser book though, so I went to my local coffee shop, order a triple mochacholatta latte chai. Of course, I had to dress the part so I put on my best intellectual clothes: my black turtle neck (it really wraps my breasts), my skinny jeans (men will let me cut in line just to get a better look), and my hipster hat.

This one. I love the retro look.

Now, let me be straight with you. I haven’t finished the book. It took my about 5 hours to read the first 20 pages. The amount of wordplay and references Mr. Pynchon manages to squeeze into his run-on sentences makes each one more dense than a hungry black hole (the kind that floating around the cosmos, I know what you were thinking).

Back to the coffee shop with my quadruple capucccinochata latte chai in hand I turned page by page. He was turning my on a little, my body follows the cues of my mind as it absorbed every little detail of the many characters. And there is sex, I mean, the book was written in the 70s, so it would have never seen the light of day without sex.

The weird thing is, it wasn’t even the sex that turned me on. It was the little things (and its not usually the little things that do it for me): the metaphors. I got a little wet when the men looked around the apartment for the hair of the very dog that had mauled them the night before, but I positively creamed my panties when he describes Slothrop’s desk. Now, you might be a little grossed out, but the image was so striking for me, it totally got me hot and bothered. He describes the layers of junk on Slothrop’s desk as a “base of bureaucratic ¬†smegma that sifts steadily to the bottom.”

As someone with a lot of experience with bureaucracy, like every other person on the planet, I really felt that sentence and I can no longer look at a desk in the same way again. Also, I can never go back to that coffee shop…

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