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clic derecho :.: descargar :.: metronomy : a thing for me (blackout remix)

“alonso se tocó entonces la pequeña erección que apuntaba hacia la ventana, hacia la calle. la sostuvo, aún indeciso: ¿qué hacer con ella? con la pijama abierta y la enorme panza desparramada pensó con cierta tristeza que, después de más de veinte años, el hobby de masturbarse se había convertido en un acto fisiológico y mecánico, desgarrado por completo de la imaginación y el juego que alguna vez lo habían adornado. se dijo que hubo un tiempo en que lo había convertido casi en una obra de arte, en que lo había practicado con el fervor de un filósofo, un erudito y un caballero; pensó en los accesorios que le habían servido alguna vez: un guante de plástico, una crema garnier, un florero. un acto fisiológico y deprimente. después se preguntó dónde estaban los klínex o el papel de baño.”

clic derecho :.: descargar :.: metronomy : a thing for me (blackout remix)

7 Comments

  1. el texto es un remix de este wey.

    • Icareskus
    • Posted January 30, 2009 at 1:43 pm
    • Permalink

    Pues sí carajo, a todo se acostumbra uno. En fin, síguele dando, ayer leí que masturbarse reduce el riesgo de infarto, o algo así.

    Un abrazo.

    • kolinazo
    • Posted January 30, 2009 at 3:47 pm
    • Permalink

    tttssss recuerdo ese pasaje de confederacy of dunces..finisimo, como el resto del libro…no se que paso con la adaptacion que sodenbergh le iba a hacer..

  2. A huevo, siempre con el pijama puesto. ¿porqué?

    • tonatiuh
    • Posted February 1, 2009 at 7:21 am
    • Permalink

    o sea que cumpliste 20 años de cascártela por primera vez? pues te felicito, ya es algo no? alguna vez tuve en las manos el manual de manuela. entre las más memorables la manuela de la mano extraña, que se obtenía al cambiar de la mano dominante a la otra, previamente adormecida, en el momento preciso., un abrazo

  3. gracias a todos por pasar.

    **

    chale, sí hace mucho tiempo. alguien sabe si el manual de la manuela puedencontrarse en internet? ojalá.

    **

    acá el pasaje original en confederacy of dunces:

    Ignatius pulled his flannel nightshirt up and looked at his bloated stomach. He often bloated while lying in bed in the morning contemplating the unfortunate turn that events had taken since the Reformation . . .

    “Oh, Fortuna, blind heedless goddess, I am strapped to your wheel,” Ignatius belched. “Do not crush me beneath your spokes. Raise me on high, divinity.”

    “What you mumbling about in there, boy?” his mother asked through the closed door.

    “I am praying,” Ignatius answered angrily . . .

    “I think it’s wonderful you praying, babe. I been wondering what you do locked up in there all the time.”

    “Please go away!” Ignatius screamed. “You’re shattering my religious ecstasy.” Ignatius touched the small erection that was pointing downward into the sheet, held it, and lay still trying to decide what to do. In this position, with the red flannel nightshirt around his chest and his massive stomach sagging into the mattress, he thought somewhat sadly that after eighteen years with his hobby it had become merely a mechanical physical act stripped of the flights of fancy and invention that he had once been able to bring to it. At one time he had almost developed it into an art form, practicing the hobby with the skill and fervor of an artist and a philosopher, a scholar and a gentleman. There were still hidden in his room several accessories which he had once used, a rubber glove, a piece of fabric from a silk umbrella, a jar of Noxema. Putting them away again after it was all over had eventually grown too depressing.

    Ignatius manipulated and concentrated. At last a vision appeared, the familiar figure of the large and devoted collie that had been his pet when he was in high school. “Woof!” Ignatius almost heard Rex say. “Woof! Woof! Arf!” Rex looked so lifelike. One ear drooped. He panted. The apparition jumped over a fence and chased a stick that somehow landed in the middle of Ignatius’ quilt. As the tan and white fur grew closer, Ignatius’ eyes dilated, crossed and closed, and he lay wanly back among his four pillows, hoping that he had some Kleenex in his room.

    **

    yo era feliz cuando tenía inhabilitada la mano derecha. era como si me masturbara alguien más.

    **

    vice : masturbation styles

    **

    por último: un solo de órgano.

  4. pfft… “You’re shattering my religious ecstasy” es una frase memorable.


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