Parfum de femeie.

Nu ma simt in stare sa scriu o recenzie, pot sa spun doar ca asta.. e o altfel de poveste.
Uite niste replici savuroase :

“-Women! What can you say? Who made ’em? God must have been a fuckin’ genius. The hair… They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls… just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips… and when they touched, yours were like… that first swallow of wine… after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don’t care if they’re Greek columns… or secondhand Steinways. What’s between ’em… passport to heaven. I need a drink. Yes, Mr Sims, there’s only two syllables in this whole wide world worth hearing: pussy. Hah!”

“-Are you blind? Are you blind?                  
-Of course not.
-Then why do you keep grabbing my goddamn arm? I take your arm.
-I’m sorry.
-Don’t be sorry. How would you know? You’ve been watching MTV all your life.”

“-When in doubt… fuck.”

“-Don’t shrug, imbecile. I’m blind. Save your body language for the bimbi.“

“-Haven’t you heard? Conscience is dead.
No, I haven’t heard.
-Well, then, take the fuckin’ wax outta your ears! Grow up! It’s fuck your buddy, cheat on your wife, call your mother on Mother’s Day! Charlie, it’s all shit.“

“It’s a great day for singing a song / It’s a great day for moving along / It’s a great day for morning to night / It’s a great day for everybody’s plight.“

“-The day we stop lookin’, Charlie, is the day we die.“

“-You’re in no position to disagree with me, boy. I got a loaded .45 here. You got pimples.”

“-Let me have the gun Colonel.
-No time to grow a dick son.”


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    "într-o lume lipsită de melancolie, privighetorile s-ar apuca sa râgâie." E.M. Cioran
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