Нет...ну это уже не просто записи, а зашкаливающий инсулин какой-то.
Чтение блога Карла перед репетицией это просто блеск))))настрой правильный, блин)))
читать дальшеWeek 4 Friday F.R.I.D.A.Y FRIDAY! - радость пятницы не только радость для простых русских людей))))
Somedays I go out hunting. I’m not the traditional hunter. I gladly pass the elk standing in my garden or the deer eating on the rose bushes around my house. Neither guns nor knives are my weapons. My eyes are my rifle and my aim’s set on books and records.
How to hunt for books. - блииин....маленький охотник))))) но как же он любит читать...и осенью за книгами....я пророооок)))))
Go to the different second hand shops spread around Stockholm, like leaves in a forest, in search for books. Set your Ipod on shuffle and your eyes on focus. The truffle of books. Russian authors. Old literature. You need to look for surnames ending with ”sky” or ”oy” or typical names like Fjodor, Alexander, Ivan, Vladimir or Michail. - здесь я просто седею от умиления)))уже в который раз почему-то очень сильно радуюсь за наших русских писателей))))) вот любит он нашу страну...ох прям гордость берет)))
Walk from shelf to shelf, let your eyes glance over the covers, hundreds of books per minute. Colors after colors. Name after name.
My experience of hunting for books.
Day: Friday
Time: 12.PM
Location: The largest second hand shops in Stockholm
Store status: Full of old people, searching for cheap cookbooks or new china for their kitchen. Old people like food.
The room of books. Famous for its quantity of literature. Shelf after shelf. Packed. First fifteen minutes. No luck. The same old stuff, like so many times before.
Suddenly. I see something in the left corner of my eye.
Silence. Heart’s beating faster. Pupils narrow. My palms. Warm and wet. I reach out my left hand. Slowly. In front of me. A rare book of Lev Tolstoy. Year 1935. Material: leather. Condition: mint. The air lies heavy around me. My winter clothes makes the whole scene claustrophobic. One hand on the book. My blood pumps. Heavy breathing. Suddenly I feel fingers on my finger tips. Another hand? Another hunter. - *задохнулся от передоза КаллеКаллеКалле*
From the other side of the book shelf a weird looking man, who can only be described as a very scary weird looking man, stares right at me.
-Drop the book son.
-Excuse me, what?
-Drop it. You won’t win this.
-Win what? I say while grabbing the book even tighter.
10 seconds. Nothing happens. Eyes against eyes. The old against the young.
Silence breaks. A voice is heard howling in the distance.
-Free coffee and cinnamon rolls at the counter!
The very scary weird looking man drops the book and runs away. I let go of the book, turn my head and watch him go. I hide the book behind some other books. One last look.
-I’ll be back for you later. I’ll be back.- Кааааааааааааааааааааааааааааллеееееееееееее!!!!!!
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29.11.2009 в 17:29давай задыхаться и седеть вместе!