viernes, 5 de diciembre de 2008

Rent the following

Lo mejor que he visto ultimamente

The Office Season 4
Nada puede hacerte reir y sentirte incómodo que the office.
La mejor serie de comedia actualmente. Solo las comparo con Arrested Development y Seinfeld.

Lust Caution (2007)
Director: Ang Lee
Fotografía impresionante, actuaciones superiores, dirección de arte impecable, edición y montaje casi perfecto.

In Bruges (2008)
Director: Martin McDonagh
Tenía mucho tiempo sin ver una película que cumpliera su cometido de entretener 
como fue ver "In Bruges" 

jueves, 4 de diciembre de 2008

Things keep changing

yo volaba chichigua a esa edad con supervision de mi papa, y era lo maximo.
la era digital esta aqui.

Creo que me voy a pelar a caco pronto a ver que tal









Shooting movies is the shit!

Things are shaping up to be pretty odd

On the road


Quiero cojer carretera. Tipo road trip. 
Montecristi. Luperón. Imbert. Puerto Plata Cabarete. Río San Juan. Cabrera. Samaná. 
Música. Cámara. Videocámara. Vino. Cerveza. Laptop. Food.
Soporto.

jueves, 27 de noviembre de 2008

Music to listen: It's alright, by Guns N' Roses



Told you once about your friends and neighbours
They were always seeking but they'll never find it
It's alright, it's alright

Where to go and where to see
It's always been that way and it can never be
Well it's alright, it's alright

Give it all and ask for no return
And very soon you'll see and you'll begin to learn
That it's alright, it's alright

Don't you know that it's so good for you
You can be making love and see it all go through
But it's alright, it's alright

Told you once about your friends and neighbours
They were always seeking but they'll never find it
It's alright, it's alright

Music to listen: Poses, by Rufus Wainwright




The yellow walls are lined with portraits
And Ive got my new red fetching leather jacket All these poses such beautiful poses Makes any boy feel like picking up roses Theres never been such grave a matter As comparing our new brand name black sunglasses All these poses such beautiful poses Makes any boy feel as pretty as princes The green autumnal parks conducting All the city streets a wondrous chorus singing All these poses oh how can you blame me Life is a game and true love is a trophy And you said Watch my head about it Baby you said watch my head about it My head about it Oh no oh no oh no Oh no oh no no kidding Reclined amongst these packs of reasons For to smokes the days away into the evenings All these poses of classical torture Ruined my mind like a snake in the orchard I did go from wanting to be someone now Im drunk and wearing flip-flops on fifth avenue Once youve fallen from classical virtue Wont have a soul for to wake up and hold you In the green autumnal parks conducting All the city streets a wondrous chorus Singing all these poses now no longer boyish Made me a man ah but who cares what that it And you said watch my head about it Baby you said watch my head about it My head about it Oh no oh no oh no Oh no oh no well you said Watch my head about it Baby you said watch my head about it My head about it Oh no oh no oh no Oh no oh no no kidding
hoy me acuerdo de:
el episodio del chavo donde todo el mundo le dice ratero.
cuando me parti la barbilla tratando de atrapar una pelota jugando baseball hace 19 años.
el viaje a cabarete que doblamos por pueblo blanco y todos pensamos que ibamos a morir alli.
cuando compre mi laptop en nyc
cuando me tome una botella de martini con mi amigo sunny garcía
cuando Teale tropezó con mi disco duro externo y se borro la edición completa de mi corto
7 cervezas dos equis morenas con Hans Dudelheim
cuando conoci a Phillip Seymour Hoffman en el Doma Cafe
cuando me rompí las dos muñecas practicando para una competencia de ciclismo
cuando quemé la habitación de mis padres con fosforos
la primera vez que tuve sexo en un carro
de que tengo que ir a comprar comida al supermercado
de el tubo de striper en TEH bar y el show que di una vez borracho
cuando caminé por primera vez por calle toledo
cuando vomité en la feria mecánica despues de montarme en una desgracia fatal que tenian alli
la primera vez que escuche a jim morrison declamando
jugando a la lucha libre con mi hermano mayor
cuando salio el manitos limpias [mejor invento del mundo]
cuando vi una mancha blanca en mi piel
el funeral de mi abuela elpidia
me acuerdo que no hay nadie mas limpio que yo
me acuerdo que tengo que ir a cocinarme algo ahora

miércoles, 26 de noviembre de 2008




I need more sleep.

lunes, 24 de noviembre de 2008

I said, Music to listen: Waltzing Matilda




The great Tom Waits.

Wasted and wounded, it ain't what the moon did
I've got what I paid for now
see ya tomorrow, hey Frank, can I borrow
a couple of bucks from you, to go
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing
Matilda with me


I'm an innocent victim of a blinded alley
and I'm tired of all these soldiers here
no one speaks English, and everything's broken
and my Stacys are soaking wet
to go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing Matilda with me


now the dogs are barking
and the taxi cab's parking
a lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me
you tore my shirt open
and I'm down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmill's I staggered, you buried the dagger in
your silhouette window light to go
waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing
Matilda with me


now I lost my Saint Christopher now that I've kissed her and the one-armed bandit knows, and the maverick Chinamen, and the cold-blooded signs
and the girls down by the strip-tease shows go
waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing Matilda with me


no, I don't want your sympathy, the fugitives say that the streets aren't for dreaming now
manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories
they want a piece of the action anyhow go
waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing Matilda with me


and you can ask any sailor, and the keys from the jailor
and the old men in wheelchairs know
that Matilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred
and she follows wherever you may go
waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing
Matilda with me


and it's a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace
and a wound that will never heal
no prima donna, the perfume is on
an old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
and goodnight to the street sweepers
the night watchman flame keepers
and goodnight to Matilda too

music to listen: That old green gentleman


Que grupito este. no me lo esperé.

Things are shaping up to be pretty odd
Little deaths in musical beds
So it seems I'm someone I've never met

You will only hear these elegant crimes
Fall on your ears from criminal dimes
They spill unfound from a pretty mouth

And everybody gets there, everybody gets there
And everybody gets their way
I never said I missed her when everybody kissed her
Now I'm the only one to blame

Things have changed for me, and that's okay
I feel the same, I'm on my way, and I say
Things have changed for me, and that's okay

I want to go where everyone goes
I want to know what everyone knows
I want to go where everyone feels the same

I never said I'd leave the city
I never said I'd leave this town
A falling out we won't tiptoe about

When everybody gets there, everybody gets there
And everybody gets their way
I never said I missed her when everybody kissed her
Now I'm the only one to blame

Things have changed for me, and that's okay
I feel the same, I'm on my way, and I say
Things have changed for me, and that's okay
I feel the same, and I say

Things have changed for me, and that's okay
(Well, things have changed for me
Come on every body, let's dance and sing
)
I feel the same, and I say
(I'm singing it all night long
So come on everybody and join the party
)
Things have changed for me, and that's okay
(Well, things have changed for me
Come on everyone, let's dance and sing)
I feel the same, and I say
(I'm singing it all night long
So come on everybody and sing along
)

Things have changed for me, and that's okay
I'm on my way, and I say

Things have changed for me

Music to listen: Maybe Tomorrow




Maybe Tomorrow lyrics

I've been down and
I'm wondering why
These little black clouds
Keep walking around
With me
With me

It wastes time
And I'd rather be high
Think I'll walk me outside
And buy a rainbow smile
But be free
They're all free

So maybe tomorrow
I'll find my way home
So maybe tomorrow
I'll find my way home

I look around at a beautiful life
Been the upperside of down
Been the inside of out
But we breathe
We breathe

I wanna breeze and an open mind
I wanna swim in the ocean
Wanna take my time for me
All me

So maybe tomorrow
I'll find my way home
So maybe tomorrow
I'll find my way home

So maybe tomorrow
I'll find my way home
So maybe tomorrow
I'll find my way home

So maybe tomorrow
I'll find my way home
So maybe tomorrow
I'll find my way home

Non, je ne regrette rien




Vengan de nuevo todos, que nadie duerme este pasillo, 
que todos pueden en mi estar, 
en el estar, 
que todos quieren un star en la frente, mientras el mundo se muele en basura,
que aquí limpio siempre, y alla con desorden del todo,
vengan de nuevo que aqui no se acaba esto,
que no termina y se apaga, 
que tantas cosas son cosas no mas, 
mas nada que cositas para jugar los pibes, 
que es tarde y nadie duerme en esta pasillo y las luces pegan duro,
las que pago, las que prendo, luces, lucecitas como que no existen nunca,
coño,
si, coño, yo, Jorgy el flaco, el gordo, el loco, el tranquilo y el que escribe,
el que tiembla a los que callan a veces, casi nunca, casi ahora, casi luego.

dos perritos vuelven a irse al campo, y nadie ve,
nadie sabe y nadie espera,
uno vuelve y el otro queda,
yo no quiero volverme tan loco,
pero si, me visto de rojo, y de cada cubrecama que me he dormido,
cada cafe tieso que agarro,
y cada rojo que prendo a ver si amanece, un vez na mas.

fuck pain, long live my bones, her bones, al bones for that matter.
peace.love.and fuckin'understanding.



luego de levantarme me doy cuenta que caí de la cama, 
de la misma donde no duermo, no descanso y siempre me envuelvo.
Luego de salir de mi ducha, resbalo para caerme de nuevo, en mi piso,
frío pero siempre limpio,
Al tomar mi bulto tropiezo con una mesita, me pego duro y me quejo.
Entonces, salí a la sala, me tiré al suelo yo mismo, me lastimé mi trapo de espalda,
y me callé la boca.

Y entonces viene la brisa, esa misma, la brisa.
Me siento en el suelo, cuento hasta diez y nada ocurre, 
miro a la pared y oigo los mismos niños jugando, al mismo juego,
a la misma hora con las misma nanas.

Me paro y prendo un rojo, miro mi mueble roto, y me pregunto donde estás?
donde coño estás? 
Por qué a todos les encanta callarse la boca?
Metan mano y viva su vida como quiera su vida sea.



coño.

jueves, 20 de noviembre de 2008

Y si yo me caigo de ahi?

Este cine va a acabar conmigo

Sing mayaví, Sing

sing along... 

But Not For me, Performed by Chet Baker.

They're writing songs of love, but not for me.
A lucky star's above, but not for me.
With love to lead the way
I've found more clouds of grey
than any Russain play could guarantee.
I was a fool to fall and get that way;
Heigh-ho! Alas! And also, lack-a-day!
Although I can't dismiss the memory of her kiss,
I guess she's not for me.

I was a fool to fall and get that way;
Heigh-ho! Alas! And also, lack-a-day!
Although I can't dismiss the memory of her kiss,
I guess she's not for me.


sábado, 15 de noviembre de 2008

I shot a man in Reno


“Bukowski cried when Judy
Garland sang at the N.Y. Philharmonic, Bukowski cried when Shirley Temple sang
"I Got Animal Crackers in my Soup"; Bukowski cried in cheap flophouses, Bukowski can't dress, Bukowski can't talk, Bukowski is scared of women, Bukowski had a bad stomach, Bukowski is full of fears,and hates dictionaries, nuns, pennies, busses, churches, park benches, spiders, flies, fleas, freaks; Bukowski didn't go to war. 
Bukowski is old, Bukowski hasn't flown a kite for 45 years; if Bukowski were an ape, they'd run him out of the tribe...”

A quiet conversation piece


“ And so, we become quiet. it is another strange evening. The people come to me, they talk, they fill me: the future rabbis, the revolutionaries with their rifles, the FBI, the whores, the poetesses, the young poets from Cal State, a professor from Loyola going to Michigan, a professor from the University of Cal at Berkeley, another who lives in riverside, 3 or 4 boys on the road, plain bums with Bukowski books stashed in their brains...for a while I thought that this gang would intrude upon and murder my precious moments, but I’ve been lucky, lucky for each man and each woman has brought me something and left me something, and I no longer must feel like Jeffers behind a stone wall, and I’ve been lucky in another way for what fame I have is largely hidden and quiet and I’ll hardly be a Henry Miller with people camping in my front lawn, the gods have been very good to me, they’ve kept me alive and even, still kicking, taking notes, observing, feeling the goodness of good people, feeling the miracle run up my arm like a crazy mouse. Such a life, given to me at the age of 48, even though tomorrow does not know is the sweetest of the sweet dreams.”

Charles Bukowski   -Book: Tales of ordinary madness-

viernes, 14 de noviembre de 2008

Old Writings Chapter 3: Madrid, 2004.



Listen up

 Pongan en plazos nuestras velas, vuestras venas, los limites montados, nuestras marcas tentadas por el chic, por los glams de una esperanza que no nos quiere, que siempre resultamos aburridos de la nada universal.

 Extintores bajo presión, alineados todos los trastes para el renombre de nuestros vómitos; que abusamos del alcohol anoche, y no tuvimos humo nuevamente.

 Corrijan las planas noches y demostremos que el caos ayuda en frascos, en sometidas esquirlas de nuestras ideas burladas por la precisión de vuestros caracteres editados en volteretas inofensivas a sus vistas preliminares, compuestas, rotundas, sorpresivas al Mio Cid.

 Aquí se juega con estos marchitos, con estos espacios, ya bien limpios, ya no esquematizados en sistemas de dicción propensa. Venga aquí mi fuerte, mis bienes necesitados.

 Todo en fiasco, todos esperando mis consuelos, mis grandes libertades, mis mentores de vuelo, de lectura improvisada en bibliotecas sumisas, nunca vistas, siempre promocionadas en nuestra mente, en nuestros modus de largas palabras al roce de lo difícil.

 Y siempre en las esquinas templadas, está el buen Whisky, la falta de nuestro hielo de estrellato, nuestros narcos, precipitados al calor de asesinatos de T.V., de redondas vigilas cuando queda muy poco, cuando rotamos exagerados los nombres de los grandes, de nuestros impuestos corajes.

A las 10:10 fue anoche en los sueños, vitrificando