July 19th, 2004


(no subject)

I would enjoy it, I think, if Irvine Welsh could find it in him to write about something that *isn't* addiction and depravity.

Maybe a children's story about a little slug that could.
Maybe just a simple parable on the dangers of poking bears with sticks.

Maybe even just not the same fucking book I've read 5 times now?

Maribou Stork Nightmares was my favorite Irvine Welsh book. None of his others have been nearly as good and of course, Maribou Stork Nightmares is the one no one's ever heard of. It didn't have only to do with scoring skag off a weepy sored ne'er do well in some Scottish project and therefore lacked anything that would interest an american audience enough to put up with reading a brogue they really don't understand in the first place.
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