#fridayreads: Poeing it up.

#fridayreads: Poeing it up.

#FridayReads, Upper Respiratory Virus Edition: Misadventure by Nicholas Grider, Gay Propaganda edited by Masha Gessen and Joseph Huff-Hannon, some soothing magazines, and the label on a bottle of Fernet-Branca. Not pictured: a stomachful of ibuprofen.

#FridayReads, Upper Respiratory Virus Edition: Misadventure by Nicholas Grider, Gay Propaganda edited by Masha Gessen and Joseph Huff-Hannon, some soothing magazines, and the label on a bottle of Fernet-Branca. Not pictured: a stomachful of ibuprofen.

It’s still technically #fridayreads, and today that meant starting Bill Cheng’s Southern Cross the Dog and Yoko Ono’s Grapefruit, continuing two George R. R. Martin doorstops on the Kindle (A Clash of Kings and Dreamsongs), and, of course, blessed magazines.

It’s still technically #fridayreads, and today that meant starting Bill Cheng’s Southern Cross the Dog and Yoko Ono’s Grapefruit, continuing two George R. R. Martin doorstops on the Kindle (A Clash of Kings and Dreamsongs), and, of course, blessed magazines.

It’s #fridayreads once again, and I’ve picked up David Graeber’s Debt: The First 5,000 Years after abandoning it a year ago, so when I finish I will still be in the dark as to the last year and a half of debt, but whatever. A galley of Fobbit, for review probably; Chekhov’s The Duel, continuing my campaign to read the shortest books possible by the great Russian fiction writers; and the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, part of my ongoing survey of Western philosophy (I’m still in the shallow waters of the Stoics).

It’s #fridayreads once again, and I’ve picked up David Graeber’s Debt: The First 5,000 Years after abandoning it a year ago, so when I finish I will still be in the dark as to the last year and a half of debt, but whatever. A galley of Fobbit, for review probably; Chekhov’s The Duel, continuing my campaign to read the shortest books possible by the great Russian fiction writers; and the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, part of my ongoing survey of Western philosophy (I’m still in the shallow waters of the Stoics).

It’s time for #Fridayreads, books-I’m-currently-reading and books-I-can’t-wait-to-read edition!
Currently: Real Man Adventures, T Cooper’s memoir about being a dude; and That’s Not a Feeling, Dan Josefson’s novel of a (harmlessly?) creepy boarding school.
Can’t wait: The Other Side of the World by Jay Neugeboren, whom I trust; and Confessions from a Dark Wood by Internet friend Eric Raymond, who included a business card (pictured) and a hilarious metafictional corporate cover letter (not pictured), so I have yet to determine whether he can be trusted.

It’s time for #Fridayreads, books-I’m-currently-reading and books-I-can’t-wait-to-read edition!

Currently: Real Man Adventures, T Cooper’s memoir about being a dude; and That’s Not a Feeling, Dan Josefson’s novel of a (harmlessly?) creepy boarding school.

Can’t wait: The Other Side of the World by Jay Neugeboren, whom I trust; and Confessions from a Dark Wood by Internet friend Eric Raymond, who included a business card (pictured) and a hilarious metafictional corporate cover letter (not pictured), so I have yet to determine whether he can be trusted.

My #fridayreads include: Why Does the World Exist? by Jim Holt, which smells strangely like Play-Doh, fitting for a book with such a faux-naïf title; The Dream of Doctor Bantam by Jeanne Thornton, featuring a memorable Smashing Pumpkins/Wal-Mart/IHOP sequence; Casino Royale, because every new Bond movie is an occasion for anticipation—even though 75% of the time, like clockwork, those hopes are dashed—so this book doubles as apéritif and inoculant; and finally, David Hume’s scandalous, posthumous On Suicide (speaking of inoculants).

My #fridayreads include: Why Does the World Exist? by Jim Holt, which smells strangely like Play-Doh, fitting for a book with such a faux-naïf title; The Dream of Doctor Bantam by Jeanne Thornton, featuring a memorable Smashing Pumpkins/Wal-Mart/IHOP sequence; Casino Royale, because every new Bond movie is an occasion for anticipation—even though 75% of the time, like clockwork, those hopes are dashed—so this book doubles as apéritif and inoculant; and finally, David Hume’s scandalous, posthumous On Suicide (speaking of inoculants).

It’s time for #fridayreads, remedial education and lit-mags-with-vag-pics edition!
So: Stephen Amidon’s Something Like the Gods, because I so rarely read about sports, but I will always read a book that shits on the International Olympic Committee; George Bernard Shaw’s The Perfect Wagnerite, a book I bought with the best of intentions when I was an undergraduate Wagnerite (but never bothered to read because the Ring cycle wasn’t on PBS like it is this month); just the introduction to Hume’s Enquiry (let’s be realistic); and sweet magazines.
Vanity Fair doesn’t have any vagina photos, but thanks to Michael Lewis I learned that Barack Obama writes with a No. 2 pencil—THE SAME KIND AS ME!

It’s time for #fridayreads, remedial education and lit-mags-with-vag-pics edition!

So: Stephen Amidon’s Something Like the Gods, because I so rarely read about sports, but I will always read a book that shits on the International Olympic Committee; George Bernard Shaw’s The Perfect Wagnerite, a book I bought with the best of intentions when I was an undergraduate Wagnerite (but never bothered to read because the Ring cycle wasn’t on PBS like it is this month); just the introduction to Hume’s Enquiry (let’s be realistic); and sweet magazines.

Vanity Fair doesn’t have any vagina photos, but thanks to Michael Lewis I learned that Barack Obama writes with a No. 2 pencil—THE SAME KIND AS ME!

My #fridayreads include the three books I showed you last week but haven’t started yet, plus these three little ones to pad my reading stats: Hume’s On Suicide, Lethem’s Fear of Music, and Shelley’s Mathilda. But mostly this weekend I’ll be reading The Stranger’s Bumbershoot insert, featuring an interview with (finally!) Skrillex’s haircut.

My #fridayreads include the three books I showed you last week but haven’t started yet, plus these three little ones to pad my reading stats: Hume’s On Suicide, Lethem’s Fear of Music, and Shelley’s Mathilda. But mostly this weekend I’ll be reading The Stranger’s Bumbershoot insert, featuring an interview with (finally!) Skrillex’s haircut.

My #fridayreads, as-soon-as-I-finish-what-I’m-already-reading edition: I’m Trying to Reach You by Barbara Browning, America’s foremost choreographer/academic/ukulelist/novelist; Mark Perryman’s Why the Olympics Aren’t Good for Us, and How They Can Be (he quotes the Buzzcocks in the introduction, so I think I’m in good hands); and Robert Louis Stevenson’s Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes and The Amateur Emigrant (finally, a book that combines my love of Scots, California, and donkeys!).
Also, I’m about to roll an AD&D polyhedron to see who wins my old copy of This Bright River, so drop me a line if you want to get in on that shit.

My #fridayreads, as-soon-as-I-finish-what-I’m-already-reading edition: I’m Trying to Reach You by Barbara Browning, America’s foremost choreographer/academic/ukulelist/novelist; Mark Perryman’s Why the Olympics Aren’t Good for Us, and How They Can Be (he quotes the Buzzcocks in the introduction, so I think I’m in good hands); and Robert Louis Stevenson’s Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes and The Amateur Emigrant (finally, a book that combines my love of Scots, California, and donkeys!).

Also, I’m about to roll an AD&D polyhedron to see who wins my old copy of This Bright River, so drop me a line if you want to get in on that shit.

This week’s #fridayreads are, for the most part, Daniel Fights a Hurricane by Shane Jones, which is deliciously weird; a smelly and disintegrating copy of Portrait of a Rebel: The Life and Work of Robert Louis Stevenson by Richard Aldington, liberated at some point in the last 55 years from the library system of Kent county, England (Invicta!); and, as always, sweet magazines.

This week’s #fridayreads are, for the most part, Daniel Fights a Hurricane by Shane Jones, which is deliciously weird; a smelly and disintegrating copy of Portrait of a Rebel: The Life and Work of Robert Louis Stevenson by Richard Aldington, liberated at some point in the last 55 years from the library system of Kent county, England (Invicta!); and, as always, sweet magazines.