ten minute chat

What are you at? recent encounters with books and movies....All the Pretty horses by Cormac Mcarthy is a fantastic read so far....enjoying the book greatly...

at this moment

am listerning to a guy complain about his dog food to a guy on the phone as I type this...earlier he slammed the phone down because his wife couldnot tell him when he should come to hospital to get her...he is having an interesting day...as many of the people due at an employment agengy look up centre...so that is what is happening while I type...He is in a little vocal jousting match with the secretary about the use of the phone for private calls...and suddenly he leaves...

Saw Borat and will give you my full take on film...I know you can'yt wait...

as well as Casiono Royal

lots of movies this month...

may even go see death of a president though Tibbs told me it is boring...and it sounds it but what the hell it's only 6 bucks....

yellow grover

I got twenty minutes on this libary computer to talk about books, movies, work, theatre projects, the grey cup, the lack of good cheese in the guelph area, my need for a personal typist, anything else....

Well I am reading Annasi Boys by Neil Gaiman now....Gaiman of Sandman fame and so forth, it's a gaiman book, fun with little mythical stories intertwining the day to day dull drums of an average uk citizen FAT Charlie Nancy.....
I like the book so far, it seems to be shaping into something that may prove to be more than the B book I now think it is....this is a style I like reviewing a book before it's finished, like I did with Aligator by Lisa Moore and found that my review was way off base, let's see if my thoughts of Annasi Boys will be the same...

I recently read two books by Michael Ondajetie Anil's Ghost and The English Patient..Both as usual are remarkable in the fact that the guy can write about bowl movements and make you think he was talking about the ability to spin gold...he's that good...The books were fantastic....

Anil's ghost takes us into mid nineties SRI Lanka amongest the civil wars between the tamil tigers, of the south, the northern rebels and the government..in the middke are innocent people who are killed, mamed, kidnapped and most likely never seen again...

Anil is a patholgist sent by the un to investigate the kidnapings and the bodies found in different parts of the country....
She is aided by SArath a geolgoist and map maker who warns her of stiring the pot...I know sounds like a csi episode..and that is where the magic is only this guy using his skill as a poet (over ten published poetry books) could hit this story line pre csi( book written in 2000)
Anyway they stumble on for bodies..name them tinker, taylor, solider, and sailor...sailor turns out to be a new body buried in a government only access site, this could be a big break for the un agent anil....from there shge goes through the trilas of trying to name thge body...they meet Sarath's brother, an old blind teacher of Saraths and Anil finds her roots again in Columbo....Just read it if you get a chance...

I hear that Down with the butterfly is coming december 16th too jimmy Jazz with the much taled about Jen Grant and forgive me if I'm wrong Red rossetta.....can't wait...

other things in the last minutes of the blog...

saw little miss sunshine....great
The prestige a b picture
the bears are 9-1
I just had peameal bacon and eggs yummy...
My brother is becoming a chef...good job...
Canadian Tire is having a great sale this weekend...this is a finicial plug I get 5 dollars everytime I say the word canadian tire or even tire....

Tire..tire..tire....tire....

30 bucks sweet.....

three minutes...what else? how are you would love to hear from you...give us a comment and tell us about your favorire book, movie, cheese product, muppet, mind changes week to week today it is yellow grover....

first paragraph of a short story or novel

"I told you not to drink the rest of that pop." He bellowed.
The son sank in his bus seat and moaned. Waiting to be heard.
"Maybe we can take him in to the university stop." she replyed.
"and have to wait another half hour! Forget that, he should know better, he can wait." he shouted.
Rocking back and forth the child starts to sob and sob, while those on the bus dressed in browns and oranges reflecting the fall season ignore and think about other more pleasent things.
"It hurts, it really hurts, I have to go." the boy quietly muttered.
"oh stop it. be quiet, he has to learn to be able to hold it like a man." He shouts.
"But I have to go, can't I go." He pleads.
"Where out there in the parking lot, here, here is a cup, go in the cup." He smirks.
She says nothing. The boy looks straight at his father begging silently like a wonded mutt.
"Well this is your own fault, if you had listened to me you'd be ok." he snarled.
All the while she sat silent. Slumped. She wore a blue jacket and waistless slacks the kind fifty year old janitors wear to move comfortably while ploding through a tough night shift at a bank or monasori school. She says nothing. Smiles occasionally at the long haired kid who looks back the odd time in disgust.
"I gotta go." rocking in a painful and distressing sea, the boy resembles a boye bobbing up and down as the bus hits the speed bumps. Approaching the university. Hoping he will let him go. Knowing that he will not.