Ah, a bit of diversity here: Roget's Thesaurus (x2), the Marquis de Sade's 120 Days of Sodom (both obviously for reference purposes), Jonathan Rose's Intellectual Life of the British Working Classes, various bits of Brecht, Chuck Palahniuk, Pat McCabe, Edmund Husserl, and assorted tapes, CDs, and vinyl. Note also the two boxes of Cuban cigars, the talking Kenny Doll, and, just in picture at the very top, a photo of yours truly with Cuban boxer Felix Savon, whom I met on the May Day parade in Havana in 1997.
7 comments:
You're not really making the best use of your shelf space are you?
I'll show how to stack shit
It's Habitat, innit. Awkward fuckers.
"a photo of yours truly with Cuban boxer Felix Savon, whom I met on the May Day parade in Havana in 1997" - you fucking lucky lucky lucky c***! You met one of the greatest human beings who has ever walked this planet and this is the first and only mention your saddo bloggy friends have ever heard of this???
I don't have heroes, but Savon? As Olivia Newts and Toads friends said in Grease: Tell me more, tell me more!
Hey reidski--
We were on holiday for a couple of weeks in Varadero for my birthday and while we were there I asked the hotel folks if they could organize for us to go up to Havana for May Day. Havantur provided a rep and a bus and took Maria and myself and an East German couple into Havana, where we were able to join the masses in paying homage to Fidel: I got to within 100 yards or so but Maria made me put down the Mannlicher (Cuba is one of our areas of disagreement, but that's for another time).
Anyway, the East German woman got lost in the crowds, and while we were hanging around for her to turn up, I noticed a bunch of kids crowded around this tall fella. "Who's that?" I asked the rep, Roniel. "It's Felix Savon, the boxer. Would you like to meet him?" "Fuck yeah" or something like that, I said. So Roniel went over, and fortunately I was wearing my Ireland 94 baseball cap. When Felix heard I was from Ireland, he was only too happy to pose for a photo, shake my hand, rest his other on my shoulder (I had my Mekons shirt on as well, so maybe it was that which swung it). Maria just about managed to get our heads and shoulders in the picture, but that was good enough for me.
And then we drove home to Varadero and watched Cuban TV: 12 hours of people pushing their bikes past Fidel. Could we see ourselves? Could we arse. But that was the highlight of the trip, ONLY surpassed by our trip to Havana last year, when we met Wayne Sleep in the restaurant of the Hotel Florida!
I jest. But we did meet him.
Photos of you and Savon and you and Sleep please.
ha ha. Don't say you didn't ask for it!!
Buying a new scanner this weekend for the express purpose.
If you've got a photo of Savon and Sleep together that'll do.
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