June 16, 2004

James Joyce's Erotic Letters to Nora Barnacle - The title speaks for itself, and, yes, if dirty words are not safe for work, then this is NSFW. In addition, herein we surprisingly have proven Elizabeth Hoffman correct in her assertion that a certain expletive can be used as a term of endearment, and we have proven it with the words of the greatest of modern writers.
  • My little cunties.
  • *swoons*
  • Cupid's To Blame Watson a name? Arrows from no other Could sting my sweet And prick the same.
  • Joyce was a fart-huffer! Joyce was a fart-huffer! "Brown-arsed fuckbird." That's golden.
  • I love you, beeswacky. He had a way with words, eh, blind old Jimmy J? heheh. Feels sort of prurient looking into his personal stuff, but then again, that's what you get if you're a genius. Anyone read "Masks of the Illuminati" by Robert Anton Wilson? Not one of his best novels, but an amusing one in which James Joyce & Albert Einstein team up in a sort of psychological occult mystery involving Aleister Crowley. Grand stuff.
  • I hate James Joyce. Moreso because of this fucking-meaningless day that is observed once a year by the unimaginative. However. When I am faced with such literary brilliance as is in those letters, I can't help but loving the old Mick. I hate him all the more for that, the perverse Bastard!
  • This is a great post for today as it is Bloomsday today. Even google is celebrating.
  • Yes, what a coincidence, Kimberly! I had no idea! /slap j/k luv & kisses Mean Uncle Nostril
  • Oh, and thanks for the link to google.com, too. By tomorrow, sadly, your point will be lost, as google will have changed the graphic back again to the usual and your link will show nothing out of the ordinary, so here's the relevant google gif you're talking about, so that people reading this post in the future, i.e., not today, will know what the piss you are talking about. Remember, I'm not real. Your Pal, Ugly Piss-Drinking Nostril Down in the Woods, Lurking
  • Wunneful link, Nostril! A new element to the always fascinating Joyce...
  • I found one of his love letters in a box of crap I bought at an auction. They're evidently from a later time period: flagrant cunt, jingling your turnpike titties and bearing aloft amid the fixed pikes of manliness a high perch atop of which a shitpot was fixed with nails. On my majesty, you were, or often feigned to be, noticeably standing peeing from green youth and had been meaning to pee on my face, causing yon causeway to be thus assholed. Jim
  • lmfao this will be a day long remembered. but not by me, I can tell you
  • Extra points for using "asshole" as a verb.
  • Dude. What the hell?
  • Anyway, speaking of Joyce, the BBC has a great Ulysses page full of idiots who are willing to criticise something they haven't read.
    Thanks BBC from saving me from any temptation to attempt to read what would appear to be an unmitigated load of rubbish.
    Ruth, Camberly, Surrey
  • Fuck up, love? Monkeyfilter: Fart with lust.
  • Ulysses Chapter 12 summary: Bloom has an argument with a pub boor whose blinkered anti-Semitism mirrors Homer's one-eyed Cyclops. He exits, closely followed by a cake tin. I swear I used to write stuff like that as a teenager, but all the girls said I just being weird.
  • " Tired of lying under a man one night you tore off your chemise violently and got on top of me to ride me naked. You stuck my prick into your cunt and began to ride me up and down. Perhaps the horn I had was not big enough for you for I remember that you bent down to me face and murmured tenderly "Fuck up, love! Fuck up, love!" " Wow. Fuck up, indeed.
  • Dirty. On so many levels. No such thing as toilet tissue??
  • Ungh! . . God! . . . Fuck! Advantage: Joyce
  • Oh. So we're not talking about the orange powdery stuff the astronauts used, now are we? Sorry. Continue as you were.