Gimme the goods - I'm hot.
I wish I had grace. Grace. That little flowery, poofy sounding word which makes you think of ballerinas and fucked girly shit. I wish i had it.
Old school movie stars have it, Cate (Our Cate) has it. Blokes have it too. Jack Thompson has it. Jimmy Stewart definately had it. My grandad has it.
Grace. I want it. Sometimes I think I need it. Sometimes I could do with strapping on a pair of tights and doing fucked organic movement pieces. I could do an interpretive dance about getting up in the morning and do a shit in a bucket. Live. That could be me. Grace. Auditioning for Nida.
I wish I said the right thing all the time sometimes. I have an opinionated trap. Grace.
I wish men still wore those suits everywhere they went and those hats tipped slightly to the side. I wish those guys who wear those FUCKING HATS NOW in bars and pubs would just FUCKING DIE!!! THEY ARE COCKAXES!!!! I wish there were uniform graceness. I wish we still tipped our hats to ladies. I wish we still opened doors. I wish you ladies at least had of maintained the appearance of being innocent ladies instead of turning into luxuriating whores. I wish you all wore big white pearl necklaces. I HATE THOSE OLD BITCHES WHO WEAR PEARLS!!!! GROW THE FUCK UP!!!
Grace. Kelly.
Grace. I wish we still drove cool old cars and wore smoking jackets and went to see live jazz in smoke-flled bars. FUCK ALL YOU NON SMOKERS FOR GETTING ME KICKED OUT OF PUBS AND RUINING THE ROMANTIC DREAM OF YESTERYEAR!
Grace. I wish I could believe in God so I could say little prayers and have my friends over for dinner parties and make them say...
Grace. Skies.
Grace.
I'm boring myself now - Grace - Go and fuck yourselves.
Old school movie stars have it, Cate (Our Cate) has it. Blokes have it too. Jack Thompson has it. Jimmy Stewart definately had it. My grandad has it.
Grace. I want it. Sometimes I think I need it. Sometimes I could do with strapping on a pair of tights and doing fucked organic movement pieces. I could do an interpretive dance about getting up in the morning and do a shit in a bucket. Live. That could be me. Grace. Auditioning for Nida.
I wish I said the right thing all the time sometimes. I have an opinionated trap. Grace.
I wish men still wore those suits everywhere they went and those hats tipped slightly to the side. I wish those guys who wear those FUCKING HATS NOW in bars and pubs would just FUCKING DIE!!! THEY ARE COCKAXES!!!! I wish there were uniform graceness. I wish we still tipped our hats to ladies. I wish we still opened doors. I wish you ladies at least had of maintained the appearance of being innocent ladies instead of turning into luxuriating whores. I wish you all wore big white pearl necklaces. I HATE THOSE OLD BITCHES WHO WEAR PEARLS!!!! GROW THE FUCK UP!!!
Grace. Kelly.
Grace. I wish we still drove cool old cars and wore smoking jackets and went to see live jazz in smoke-flled bars. FUCK ALL YOU NON SMOKERS FOR GETTING ME KICKED OUT OF PUBS AND RUINING THE ROMANTIC DREAM OF YESTERYEAR!
Grace. I wish I could believe in God so I could say little prayers and have my friends over for dinner parties and make them say...
Grace. Skies.
Grace.
I'm boring myself now - Grace - Go and fuck yourselves.
posted by Roguemaze Central at 11:54 AM
4 Comments:
some of that was really beautiful.
i think sometimes i have grace on wednesdays.
You really hurt me then Darcy. So mean.
Yeah, look, where to start? Grace, I mean.
Does one really know where to start or how the entire grace thing happens? I say no. But, if we are to find out, we must first look at A through F of a list I'm thinking up as I type.
Heading: What's Eating Gilbert Grace and Associated Dilemmas?
A) Getting it.
B) Having it.
C) Having it to a point where you know you own it [not in the limp-wristed Americanised way, but in the 'it just is fact, y'all' way].
D) Maintaining it [at a respectable level: not this whimsical pittance of 'hmmm, looks like I've only got that much *thumb and index finger two inches apart* grace left, so I'd better take another shot of Botox in that skin region between my sack and my crack']
E)The moment when you first realise that grace has left the building and latched onto some younger, less attractive member of the same sex whose face you recognise from those smoke-filled jazz clubs.
F) HEY FUCKJAB, GIMME MAH FUCKING GRACE BACK, YOU MOTHERCHAINING CLIT!
I think I've inadvertently come up with how to rid your system of grace as well. Whoopsies etc.
BTW, Dude ['80 talk now, so be advised it's serious *mah shirt's off, pal*] if you're moaning about us non-smokers getting you kicked out of pubs and harping on the idea that yesteryear was so sugar-coated and shit, then that's totally cool, coz it's your blog and shit.
And you can always open doors for the ladies, even the ones who curl up their noses like liddle piggily wiggly tails when they're stroked and then throw in a complimentary [i.e. free] kick to the groin for good riddance.
Paraphrasing Jerry Maguire [is that how you even spell that fucking thing?]: you had me at "do a shit in a bucket."
Dear ProgMail,
If cunt rhymes with shunt and quim rhymes with swim what sort of cunt act does it take your average student of Foucault into a subject of a dividing practice, into a bumbling ranting lunatic?
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