Mushrooms and Berries

2012-01-26T10:26:00.005-07:00

«Facile ... les champignons ! Les reconnaître, les cueillir, les cuisiner ... et quelques bons trucs».
V.I. Lenin

Benoit Magnier - la poesie par excellence est Russe.-

2012-01-25T12:43:00.001-07:00

la poesie par excellence est Russe.

et pourquoi donc?

moujik, kvar, mir,

a tombeau ouvert,

une legerete obscure,

un flirt nus a l`inconnue,

a l`echelle d`une Taiga

d` une degaine perdue

en rengaine de hargne,

qqs poids qui font mal

en une desirree perdue,

le ousquecelasepasse.

a rebourds,

dicksofteners

2012-01-25T08:20:00.002-07:00

- Маша, сними ПРОТИВОГАЗ!-
- А я уже сняла..

- Retour a la case depart

2012-01-24T10:02:00.017-07:00

I Read it... In original russian.
All I can say is that it would need a very genuine effort , a very profound originality of thought and a very firm conviction to thaw the barrage of frozen idioms this book is filled with, to animate the banal, whiny and boring style it's written in, the style that suffocates every "unconventional" idea this so-called russian (hahaha) punk author pushes down the throat of his reader every few pages or so.
Reading this book is a waste of time!! But it might sound better in french due to skilled translation. lets hope so.

2012-01-22T12:30:00.001-07:00

Sophie in Jerusalem with the Israeli Soldiers!!!

2012-01-19T20:08:00.010-07:00

Sophie (left) and a soldier
Sophie and soldiers
Jerusalem stray cat
Jerusalem

Camels they rode in the desert!

2012-01-18T17:16:00.007-07:00

2012-01-18T08:17:00.006-07:00

(sophie's pic of grandma's soap dish)

Я в Париже живу как денди,
Женщин имею до ста!
Мой член, как сюжет в легенде
Ходит из уст в уста....

2012-01-16T10:09:00.000-07:00

Looking good!

a new baby~!

2012-01-09T21:06:00.006-07:00

My friend Winona just had a baby!!!!! His name is Marlon!!!! At Shrooms&Berries we love babies, loved giving birth to them and we love everything about them and don't mind even if they cry !
Congrats Winona! Nothing in this entire world is more fun then having a baby! Now you know!

2012-01-07T18:47:00.005-07:00

mushrooms and berries new year resolutions!

2012-01-03T05:44:00.007-07:00

! Это только прррисказкааа — скаааазка впередиии!

happy New Year!! And may the year 2012 be filled with joy and happiness and love for you and all of those you love

2011-12-31T17:20:00.002-07:00

2011-12-29T10:05:00.000-07:00

Папа,а мужики раньше знали что такое клитор?
Нет,лизали все подряд...

My XMAS Presents

2011-12-28T19:35:00.012-07:00

O Boy ! XMAS is over and so is hanging out with family ( families)! I can take a break from all that
criticism of me, my mothering skills, my appearance, manners, And its nice to take a break from having to be nice and "count" my presents. Number one best present is from my mom and dad - cash and lots of it! My mom in law is in second place - cash too ! My husband - great stuff and cash! Aunt Anya - more cash!
And she is not as loaded as everyone else, so that was nice! From my kids..cute little things . But My Father in law really came through this year - he got me
A National Rifle Association Watch - it looks soo fucking cool! And I might be getting a rifle for my B-Day from him. We shall see! And this is why I am not too bitchy about my step mom's gift - a tasteful and banal fruit basket and a little tea set. So, yeah, not a bad XMAS after all! Thanx everybody! Love you 4EVER!

all wars start suddenly

2011-12-25T19:38:00.004-07:00

Blitzkrieg (lightening war) was an innovative and fast-moving type of warfare developed and used effectively by the Germans in World War 2. Blitzkrieg battle tactics emphasized the use of tanks, aircraft, flexibility, and mobility to rapidly accomplish battlefield objectives.During the prewar years, Germany perfected the Blitzkrieg (or "lightening" attack) and, when World War 2 broke out, unleashed it on countries who were still preparing for World War I type trench warfare. By using the radical new concepts of the Blitzkrieg, Germany proved to be the exception to the adage that countries always prepare for the last war they fought instead of the next one. The Blitzkrieg tactics gave the Germans quick successes even though the total force arrayed against them was often numerically larger than their own.

When first employed early in World War 2, Blitzkrieg warfare shocked the world.

They had never seen anything like it

S PRASDNIKOM!

2011-12-25T09:03:00.006-07:00

Свобода, свобода, так много, так мало,
Ты нам рассказала, какого мы рода,
Ни жизни, ни смерти, ни лжи не сдаешься,
Как небо под сердцем в тоске моей бьешься...

2011-12-22T22:33:00.001-07:00

2011-12-22T22:19:00.000-07:00

German Christmas Story by Darius James

2011-12-22T21:54:00.004-07:00

“Un Aperitivo Col Diavolo”

The air was heavy with the cloying aroma of glazed nuts simmering in a artificial syrup. Ku'dam glowed in a frost of lights. And shoppers trundled along the boulevard bundled in furs. I wandered from bar to café with one drink bleeding into another, one drug morphing into the next, without finding a soul with whom I could tipple and commiserate. The loneliness was crippling. I drank prodigiously.

It was unrelenting. It bordered on the suicidal.

I had estranged myself, since moving to Europe, from the friends I had left behind and those I knew in Berlin. Christmas had come to mean no family, no friends, no feast. Christmas was an endless supply of wine and a galaxy of drugs.

By the time I settled into the last bar I would visit that Christmas eve, my brain spun with dizzy swirls and throbbing lines. My vision had skewed into flipping horizontal patterns. Everything was in fish-eyed perspective. I could no longer tell the difference between day or night.

“Money Dissolves in My Mouth”

Manhattan had peaked in the summer of nineteen eighty-seven. The Lower Eastside was a circus of openings and exhibitions. There was an abundance of money and yuppies. Parties and coke. Bad women and smack.

The battle cry in the squats on East Thirteenth Street was “DIE YUPPIE SCUM!!!”. But fuck that bullshit. Yuppies spent money. They bought us dinner. We couriered drugs. European tourists were our favorite targets. In the shade of the Tompkins Square Park bandshell, they approach and asked where to cop blow. Cocaine was cheap that summer. So we charged eighty, while it was only twenty, and pocketed the rest. Our foreign-born guests were always happy with the fat white bags of laxative we scored from the Puerto Ricans on Ludlow Street.

It was an undemanding life of unending night, even during daylight hours. I made the rounds of galleries; dance clubs; after-hours bars; all-night diners and, freak that I am, bondage clubs in the meat-packing district. I never knew where or with whom I might wake up. Some mornings I was on the floor of a plush loft with a neon-haired floozie naked in torn fishnets reeking of sweat and alcohol. On others, I was sprawled with limbs akimbo in the stairwell of a low-income housing project on Avenue D. It really didn’t matter because it would start all over again on a bench in the park.

Where did the money come from? No one knew.

But we ate, survived and had fun. Our gratification was in the company of each other. There was always a party, always an opening, with a case of wine and a tray of food.

Summer ended. The leaves withered. And our 'endless night' was over.

Of course, we still gathered in the park. And went to parties thrown by flatulent art-world frauds with more money than taste. We still ate on the Yuppie dime. And short-changed constipated Europeans. But it was all by rote, all routine. The inspired exuberance was gone.

Then Christmas came. Corpses turned up in the park. Some stewed and served in the shelters. There were rumors of a brandy-soaked pudding for desert. Derelicts were raped in the bandshell; brutal cluster-fucks illuminated by a halo of blinking holiday lights. Friends succumbed to the lure of heroin. I became a drunk.

And, as the illness of addiction took over, I watched my friends turn their backs on their own humanity:

Don't fuck up and o'd. That was the unspoken rule. Handle your shit. We ain't fuckin’ 'round wid’ no po' leese. So if you do fuck up, kiss your sorry ass goodbye. Ain't gonna be no last-minute miracles in the emergency room. We just gonna dump your ass in a lot and let you die. It's your last dance, pardner. Party over. The D.J. has left the building.
“Latex Skin Glows in the Dark”

I sat alone at a corner table, unnoticed by the others in the bar. Normally, I preferred anonymity in Berlin. Generally, the average German ignored me. This was because I was both a stranger and an American. We were Europe's equivalent of New York's vagrant 'euro-trash' population. Trust-fund backpackers and off-the-rack hipsters -- with their ridiculous claim of never setting foot on U.S. soil until the president of the United States was removed from office -- had turned the idea of an “American Expat” into a grotesque joke.

These people were awful. They needed to die in New York. They needed to die in Berlin. I tried to beat one of them to death one night. Long-haired P.C. Vegan asshole thought I was his art-commune's 'kitchen nigger'. Popped that muthafucka in the forehead with a soup ladle.

However, these were unusual circumstances. It was the holidays. I was alone in a foreign country. I missed my family. I missed the warmth of human friendship. And I missed the moist warmth of Holly-wreathed XXX-Mass pussy wrapped and ribboned under my Christmas tree.
“Tom of Finland Travels By Transparent Escalator”

I dozed off after my fourth glass of wine. Or maybe I blacked out. It was impossible to tell the difference. I was sipping a glass of putrid red one moment. And he was sitting across the table the next. I don't even remember closing my eyes. It happened that fast.

I was sitting quietly with my thoughts, lost in some Grosz-inspired jangle of vibrating lines, obviously influenced by the drunkards crowding the bar, when suddenly, after a momentary sensation of vertigo, there he was--a hawk-faced leprechaun with reddened jowls and two wisps of hair jutting over his brow like the dying tendrils of a dehydrated house-plant. They looked like the budding horns of a young goat. His shirt was an eye-aching yellow spotted with gobbling green PacMen.

I recovered consciousness during the tail end of some jabber about waiting tables in New York. “I'd go down to Christopher Street after work” he said, sounding like Don Knotts (with a brogue) in The Ghost and Mr. Chicken; “and have a beer at the Ramrod. You're an American. You look like a New Yorker. Ever been to the Ramrod?”

Did they dig this guy up from under the Paradise Garage and pull him out of a pink time-capsule stamped with a nineteen-seventies' smiley face?

I knew the Ramrod. I used to live on Grove Street in those days; a block over from Christopher. I'd come up out of the Sheridan Square subway station and Seventh Avenue would be mobbed with protesters disrupting principal photography on Cruising. Stone-wall was still fresh in people's minds.

At the time, I was friends with an off-broadway actress whose acting, so she said, was guided by the voices of a Semitic demoness named Lilith. She was the first woman she said. She was created out of the same earth as Adam. She was supposed to be his 'help mate' under his direct command. Lilith said:

“Fuck you and your daddy! Why should I help a muthafucka who can't even find my g-spot? Take out one of them ribs and make you a dumb bitch to pluck your apples!”

And split. That's why she's a demon. She was the first 'Badd Nigga' of record.

My friend was a dynamic if frightening performer – the sort who enjoyed covering herself in clay and blood and brandishing machetes. But you could always hear, just under the surface of her mind, the jaunty pipe-whistles of a Loony Tunes cartoon.

Anyway, she used to fuck Al Pacino in his trailer between set-ups so he wouldn't lose his mind playing a troubled stud-cop in campy leather gear with a yellow snot-rag hanging out of his back pocket.

“Kiss and tell...”

She wouldn't. But once her affair with Pacino was over, she began cross-dressing in leatherboy drag and hanging out on the docks. She'd always come back to my apartment with raccooned eyes, begging for food or drugs, banged up and bruised, smelling really bad. Little did I realize she was the prototype for a succession of sociopathic girlfriends I would have later in life.

The Ramrod was by the West Side Highway, across from the pier along the Hudson River. The building looked like it was once a drive-through burger joint in the 'fifties; the kind that serviced long-distance truckers. Apparently, it still did. The lot surrounding it was filled with motorcycles; all individually customized, all looking like the boudoir of an expensive whore: pink upholstery, rhinestone studding and flashing neon tubing. Not the kind of stripped-down putt-putts parked in front of the Angels' clubhouse on East Third Street.

The Ramrod was a little like Charlottenberg's scatological fun-house, Klo, without the obnoxious heterosexuals or infantile sense of humor. It was just infantile. The place was a urinal with a bar in the middle of the floor. Literally. Gangs of Tom of Finland leatherboys quaffed a few drafts at the rail; then, full bladdered, cracked open ampules under their noses, whiffing a delirious mix of amyl-nitrate, Lysol and ammonia-pungent piss, headed over to the porcelain trough built along the walls for some real mouth-opened wide fun and games.
“Ruby Slippers My Dear: Or Black People Before The Invention of Hiphop”

I lied and told the leprechaun I was a Canadian.

“Really? Where're you from? Vancouver? Toronto? Montreal?”

“Saskatoon.” Saskatoon is Canada's answer to the wheat fields of Kansas; all flatlands and infinite sky.

“I'm from Dublin” he said. “I didn't know they had black people in Canada.”

“After pickin' cotton for all them white folks, we had to go somewhere. Couldn't very well walk back to Africa, could we? So it was Little Negroes on the Prairie. That's a Saskatoon joke.”

I made that up, too. I can't even blame my gay Canadian friend, Micheal, for that one. It's called Jeffin'. That's what you do to foolish white folks; dubious dinge queens like the leprechaun in front of me and otherwise. Willie Best made plenty of crinkly Jeffin' whitie in Hollywood.

Actually, I'm not from New York, either. I grew up in Connecticut, state of the now generally ignored U.S. Constitution. Black people populate that place, too. The obstreperous kind with crack pipes and guns.

“There must be black people in Ireland” I told him. “Otherwise, Sammy Davis, Jr., wouldn't know how to tap dance. Cromwell's European niggas clog-dancin' in Jamaica, y'know? Black people are everywhere. I even met a Black Czech chick once. Didn't speak a word of English. Only spoke Czech and Russian. Took me on a tour of Theresienstadt. Besides, my great grandfather was an Irishman.”

“No!”

“Yes. Except he was white. Said to himself there are no potatoes in Ireland, sailed to Saskatoon, married a black woman and bought a farm. I grew up just like Dorthy before she spun off to Oz and found those ruby slippers.”

“You're a Black-Canadian farm boy?!! Oh, this is too much!”

“ Why not? Haven't you ever listened to Negro Spirituals? The ones sung in the fields? Those songs were code for fuck the white man, throw down your hoe and chase that star to Canada. Check it out. Go Down Moses, Let My People Go: 'Harriett Tubman, hurry and get your black ass down to Alabama so these niggas can go pick snowflakes up in Canada!' My grandmother told me that.”

“Topography of a Phantom Shopping Mall”

Tito Puente and his orchestra followed Heino on the jukebox. That's what I loved about Berliners. Even they knew you couldn't get drunk without Puerto Rican music. I wondered if Puerto Ricans would listen to Shlager?

“What brings you to Berlin?” I asked the leprechaun. “Rotkohl with the family?”

“God, no!! What on earth is 'rotkohl'?”

“Red cabbage. It's a German Christmas favorite. Mit ganse und kartoffel.”

Frankly, I didn’t get it. Bondage, rubber and chunks of metal rumbling in a throbbing orifice I got. But wallowing in steaming piss?!! That was beyond me. What potty-manual did their parents read? The Charles Mingus CAT-alog for Toilet Training your Cat?!!

My roommate on Grove, however, swore by it. He loved the leather freakazoids in dives like The Ramrod and The Toilet. That's why I'm familiar with those places. He told me about it.

Usually, in the morning. Over breakfast. In gruesome detail.

I used to see these characters all the time in the West Village. The air in Smiler's deli was rank with the odor of soggy pee-queens at four a.m.; forlornly ribboned Judy Garlands all pressed against the cashier's counter under the weight of multiple six-packs.

But that's a Christopher Street of an erased New York. That Christopher Street--the Christopher Street of Stonewall and Marsha Wallace, of Cruising and The Ramrod--disappeared along with Times Square, its peepshows, its hustlers and its tricks. How can a tv set and dvd player ever replace the lap-stiffening grandeur of Vanessa Del Rio on the screen of a Forty-second Street grind house?

The New York I knew was a co-mingling, a transcultural hybrid, of classes, races, religions, genders and generations. It was an open space without borders. A place of possibility. That space was erased. Avarice had turned the heart and mind of Manhattan into a simulacrum of itself. It had become a phantom city replicated on the broadway stage--the Theater of No Surprise.

It was no longer a matter of recognizing the shifting planes and queer angles in the urban sprawl—the Flâneur turning corners in the psychic cityscape; discovering strange new worlds. Those worlds – those psychic worlds -- don't exist in Manhattan anymore. There are only ghosts. Ghosts on the landscape. Ghosts fishhooked in the mind. This is why I left the U.S. My house was haunted. Money dissolved in my mouth.

The odd thing is I've become a ghost here, too....

For: Maresa Lippolis

©2007 Darius James

seasons greetings

2011-12-22T11:12:00.006-07:00

Shrooms$Berries Tree up above!

Happy Hanukkah from ShroomsandBerries

2011-12-20T07:22:00.004-07:00

PS. it’s not a proper Hanukkah candelabra, the middle candle (Shamos or Helper Candle) is supposed to be higher than the other 8

maybe it’s for Kwanukkah? Ah? Obama?

Does our Cool Prez ever get anything right? Fuck him ! See, if we give him any money for next election due to his anti - Israel policy! And Happy Hanukkah everybody!

2011-12-18T14:30:00.001-07:00

EXPLAINS
SO
MUCH

the descreet charm of the proletariat

2011-12-17T09:14:00.001-07:00

In Memoriam: Christopher Hitchens

2011-12-16T10:16:00.002-07:00

1949–2011

Christopher Hitchens—the incomparable critic, masterful rhetorician, fiery wit, and fearless bon vivant—died today at the age of 62

“Take the risk of thinking for yourself, much more happiness, truth, beauty, and wisdom will come to you that way.”
― Christopher Hitchens

"democracy " in action

2011-12-13T09:57:00.001-07:00

Limonov being dragged away by russian police at his action at Triumph Square in Moscow

The Song of the Count

2011-12-10T15:35:00.001-07:00

Democracy in Action - conducting elections in Kolxoz Kirovo

2011-12-05T21:59:00.011-07:00

2011-12-03T06:31:00.003-07:00

we had a good party yesterday

2011-12-01T14:00:00.002-07:00

hope you have half as much fun in New York.

2011-11-28T13:50:00.013-07:00

How difficult to wander in the crowd
Pretending every day to be alive,
Recounting to the not-yet-living
The passions of a tragic play.

Как тяжело ходить среди людей
И притворяться непогибшим,
И об игре трагической страстей
Повествовать еще не жившим.

И, вглядываясь в свой ночной кошмар,
Строй находить в нестройном вихре чувства,
Чтобы по бледным заревам искусства
Узнали жизни гибельный пожар!

Mosaic - Joe and his Jazz Band!!

2011-11-26T18:51:00.009-07:00

From left to right : Kay Kay Rosmarin, Karlos Snyder, Arianna Hickey, BK Kahn, Emon Morris and my Handsome and Brilliant Baby Boy Joseph Michael Roessler who plays 7! instruments !!!! Pics by Timothy Lee Roessler!
Thx to Night Porter for taking these cool pics and posting them!

The (surprising) adventure of Russian Orthodox Monk Father Vitalyi and his church follower Oksana

2011-11-26T12:53:00.021-07:00

Из воспоминаний духовных чад отца Виталия (Рысева):
"... она очнулась на кровати в комнате, где обычно спал отец Виталий, лежала на спине, без трусов и брюк, рубашка расстегнула, лифчик на месте, туфлей на ней не было. Ее руки были над головой в разные стороны, за запястья их держал руками батюшка, который лежал на ней и совершал половой акт".
ps Pat C, I will translate this into English as soon as I get back from NY. No time now!

\

Old-timers

2011-11-24T08:26:00.007-07:00

— Помню. Только война началась. Как раз сорок первый год. Июль. А я в апреле на завод устроился. Тоже такой же был, как ты. Только помоложе. И заочно, конечно, не учился. Не до учебы было. И вот субботник решили провести. В фонд помощи фронту. Вышли всем заводом после смены. А смена-то была — двенадцать часов! Не то что сейчас. И работали по-другому совсем. С сознанием. Все понимали. Самоотверженно работали, вот... и как работали... разве сравнишь с теперешними работничками...

2011-11-23T12:36:00.001-07:00

ochi chernyie

2011-11-22T19:22:00.004-07:00

freshness, beauty and authenticity..

2011-11-21T20:35:00.005-07:00

..TV shows that no one remembers even half an hour later. Dumb actresses, familiar and boorish actors. Moronic movies, they're for slaves and for people with the brains of a cat. They respond to the five senses, forty work hours a week, air conditioners, conversations with pregnant women, strikes, commercials…

And the only time there's something endearing and close and normal is when they show the rapist of an eleven-year-old girl. It turns out that only this kind of person still values freshness, beauty and authenticity..

how to tell what sex is your hamster

2011-11-19T10:36:00.006-07:00

discovery

2011-11-19T00:15:00.007-07:00

...I made the Great Discovery when I was strangling my wife. That is when, without finishing her off, I let her go. I looked at her, at this bitch, pushy and proud of her victories – proud for the quantity and quality of pricks that entered her. I looked…she was… Oh, this moment I'll never forget. It's only for this that life is worth living. SHE GRUNTED. Her robe was unbuttoned, her empty, cotton-like breasts puffed up, on her pretty belly there was an unpretty crease. And she wanted to live. I could say to her: kiss my feet, eat my excrement, lick me – she would obey instantly. Strangely smiling, I felt her bare breasts – my head wasn't exactly clear, but what was there to be clear about? I felt pleasure overflowing me. «I'll fuck you and will let you go,» I told her. But then I didn't need to fuck her. At that moment the orgasm overtook me – it shot out in my pants, and instinctively I rubbed against the back of the dumb wooden bench we were sitting on (and which served as a couch to our poor family). And then I understood that I LOVE VIOLENCE. ..

Wild Thing You Make My Heart Sing - Jack and Sophie

2011-11-18T12:44:00.006-07:00

newspaper

2011-11-17T11:43:00.006-07:00

A Russian newspaper smells of graves and an old man's urine. Everything is paltry and pathetic – outdated – from the ads to the articles to the poems. Even Aunt Mary's recipe is there. And what do you think it is? Why of course it's a «Low-Fat Barley Soup.» What can be more disgusting and mediocre? It's not a goose, not a duck, not even simply a huge steak, no – it's a low-fat barley soup. It's as if to say-Look how mediocre, how drab, how defeated by life we are.

A certain K.Mondrianov asks M.Polshtoff to send his address. Why the fuck – I'd like to ask – why the fuck do you need his address? To get old farts together. It'd be better for them not to be together, or to befriend Mr. Smith or Mr. Jones-these are healthy, jolly fellows. Instead they want to exchange the addresses, pathetic nobodies.

There are late lieutenants and eternal cornets. «By the grace of God, lieutenant B. quietly passed away in a nursing home.» This is followed by a long list of relatives and uncle Misha (why was he marked off?) who mourn. In reality, they're probably delighted, got drunk celebrating the departure of the eighty-nine-year-old (!) vegetable who had tormented all these relatives and who emptied their savings.

«At the age of 80, an untimely death of Kolchak's accountant.» Admiral Kolchak-the shaving of his cheeks is even mentioned in Mandelshtam's poetry sixty years ago. «Untimely,» at the age of 80?! When would it be «timely» then? At 120, maybe?!

An ad: «I make small electrical installations.» My friend, why make them small? Make them as big as the whole world makes them, as Americans, French, and other people. Someone asks «a lady in a fur coat to return an envelope with stamps which she mistakenly took on March 11.» Madam, don't return these stamps. Instead, buy envelopes, as many as you can-be generous-put a sheet of paper with my cry only: ah-a-a-ah-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! And send this to all the countries in the world – as many as you have stamps for.

прейскурант

2011-11-15T20:34:00.003-07:00

Я недавно милому
прейскурант составила.
Он на цены посмотрел,
больше не настаивал!

The cats funeral- her only companion was her cat....

2011-11-15T08:44:00.007-07:00

Кто видел в море корабли
не на конфетном фантике,
кого ебли, как нас ебли, -
тому не до романтики.

2011-11-15T07:06:00.006-07:00

...Back at the hotel, he strips and I gobble two of my fortuitous codeine tablets. I know what my duty is. Whithin an hour, I'm in that sparkling night gallery made of little explosions of codeine. It blots out most sociological details surrounding our situation, leaves only his hard , shadowy body inexcplicably laid out for me, dappled by the streetlight piercing the gaps in the heavy curtains. This is a funereal, or should I say vampiric, scene. I fall to my knees in the darkness because I know that to worship his abjection is to drink at the fount of cultural doom and play at entangling my fate with his. He's a door out of of the repetitive banalities of North American capitalism. His penis plunges into my throat like an eel into inky water. ...

From "The Romanian" by Bruce Benedrson.

2011-11-14T00:07:00.014-07:00

THE CIRCLE

Suddenly he grasped a wonderful fact:
nothing is lost, nothing whatever;
memory accumulates treasures,
stored up secrets grow in darkness and dust,
like mushrooms,
and one day a transient at a landing library
wants a book that has not once been asked for 22 years.

He got up from his seat, crossed the square, entered a cafe, ordered a drink..
Abruptly, everything dimmed in noiseless disorder and vanished..
...And there she was in a deep blackness of an October night.
Her arrival, her incoherent speech, her nearness struck him as miraculous;
the sudden intimate touch of her fingers amased his chastity.
A huge , rapidly ascending moon burned through the trees.
How strange that his knees should be trembling.
What a dreadfull feeling of uneasiness.
He felt that way for several reasons:
In a second place, because he was possesed by a sudden mad nostalgia for Russia.
In a third place, finally, because he regretted those years of youth
and everything associated with it - the fierce resentment, the uncouthness, the ardency..
And in a first place, because Tanya had remained as enchanting and as invulnerable, as she had been in the past.

Convent of Sinners!

2011-11-12T23:35:00.009-07:00

IV is 40

2011-11-12T22:20:00.001-07:00

In honor of the 40th anniversary of Led Zeppelin IV, here's a clip for you. With a special meaning.

Friday at the movies with Shrooms$Berries: Shindler's list Part2

2011-11-10T22:08:00.005-07:00

Amon Goeth: They cast a spell on you, you know, the Jews. When you work closely with them, like I do, you see this. They have this power. It's like a virus. Some of my men are infected with this virus. They should be pitied, not punished. They should receive treatment because this is as real as typhus. I see it all the time.

ps. Awesome Screenplay by Steven Zaillian, don't you think?

сексуальный маньяк.

2011-11-09T13:13:00.003-07:00

А по дороге домой напал на неё сексуальный маньяк.

Выскакивает он из кустов, плащ распахивает: "Ха!" — кричит. "Ах! — восклицает Клавдия Ивановна. — Глазам своим не верю!" "Это Хуй! — говорит маньяк. — И сейчас я этим Хуем буду вас по-всякому насиловать!" "Ах, по-всякому!" — совсем уже млеет Клавдия Ивановна и падает в обморок.

Приходит она в себя, а маньяк рядом стоит: "Что это вы тут в обморок валитесь, — спрашивает он её строго. — Я бесчувственное тело не могу по-всякому насиловать". "А какое тело вы можете насиловать, мой зайчик?" — спрашивает Клавдия Ивановна и стягивает рейтузы.

Маньяк от этих рейтузов совсем сник. "Нет, — говорит, — вы уж идите, женщина, только не рассказывайте про меня никому, а то подкараулю и убью зверски".
«Да что вы, — отвечает Клавдия Ивановна и сумочку подбирает. — Зачем мне рассказывать. Пойдёмте лучше ко мне, я вас чайком напою. Замёрзли тут, наверное, в кустах, в плащике-то на голое тело. Ещё простудитесь".

2011-11-08T10:34:00.000-07:00

S&B are out of town!

2011-11-06T05:32:00.002-07:00

America my beautiful - New buffaloes coming to Boulder!

2011-11-05T21:15:00.008-06:00

There is gonna be a bunch of buffaloes hanging out by HWY 36 right after scenic overlook in Boulder. Ted Turner, the CNN guy , who drives here all the time to see his kid at CU, donated a herd of his own prized buffaloes bred in New Mexico. He thinks it would improve the scenery and he is right! I can hardly wait, I wish we could also put indian tribe there too and I could send a pic of all that back to russia. They would wet their pants if they saw that scenery!
ps. a deer in our hood!

David Hallberg – Bolshoi Ballet’s First American Dancer

2011-11-05T17:56:00.004-06:00

Exactly 50 years after Nureyev defected to the West for artistic freedom, and 37 years after Baryshnikov did the same, Hallberg, from South Dakota and the principal dancer of American Ballet Theater is being offered a reverse voyage of sorts, one that showes how much the world has changed since those events, and how global culture had become.

Another snow storm in on the way tomorrow night! Not again!

2011-11-04T22:52:00.005-06:00

We just got done with one snowstorm and another one is on the way! Hate being stuck at home , and I am getting sick of blogging too!!!

Sophie (in a blond wig) as Cortney Love for Halloween!

2011-11-04T20:25:00.003-06:00

Tim, click to enlarge!!!! And Sophie - Cortney Never Ever looked soo good!! Love these pics!

Occupy Boulder - what a fucking joke!

2011-11-04T10:35:00.003-06:00

Same bunch of ancient stoned hippies who still haven't grown up and who are simply trying to create those brief moments of slight meaningfulness in their youth during the 60's and 70's when they demonstrated against the Vietnam war. Guess you just can't teach old dogs new tricks, ah?

cooking with Shrooms$Berries - chopped liver

2011-11-03T22:07:00.012-06:00

Every time I serve the chopped liver people beg to know how I make it! In fact, many Chopped Liver Connoisseurs demand to know why my chopped liver tastes soo good and what is the "secret ingredient". Well, its bacon. And yeah , it's not too kosher but that is why it tastes great. Here is a recipe:
Bunch of livers (chicken ones are best and cheapest), shallots, bacon, cognac, salt, pepper.
Fry all that stuff together , GRIND in a food processor et voila!

Bon Appétit!

in the hood - neighbours

2011-11-03T22:00:00.004-06:00

2011-11-02T18:19:00.009-06:00

Эй, онанисты! Кричите ура! Машина для дрочки налажена! К вашим услугам любая дыра, Вплоть до замочной скважины!

Владимир Маяковский

in secret..

2011-11-01T00:02:00.009-06:00

In secret we met
In silence I grieve
That your heart could forget,
Your spirit deceive.
If I should meet you,
After long years,
How should I greet you?
With silence and tears.

Hey Benoit - thanx for that Bear Hug!!!

2011-10-31T20:21:00.002-06:00

memories

2011-10-31T12:07:00.009-06:00

"Move over" - Daddy ordered motioning to the back of a couch.........................
..................................!....!. . . .
From this chance encounter there had sprung a mistrustful friendship that somehow lasted several months.. He couldn't think of it now without a shudder; never had he submitted to more delightful or more stringent exploitation, never had he run such risks, yet never had he known such satisfaction mingled with distress. Among the memories that visited him in his lonely Prison Cell , the recollection of this mutual attachment dominated all the rest..

Happy halloween from shrooms$Berries

2011-10-31T08:10:00.001-06:00

Under the lowering sky, in the humid atmosphere,
The houses ooze black sweat and their ventilators breathe foul odours;
The Horror of life becomes more apparent
And the grip of of spleen more oppressive:
The seeds of uniquity that lie in every man's heart
Begin to germinate;

A craving for filthy pleasures takes hold of the puritanical,
And the minds of respected citizens are visited by criminal desires...

Have fun in Alaska, B! And watch out for bears...

2011-10-30T19:12:00.002-06:00

sunday morning

2011-10-30T00:08:00.004-06:00

Пронизанный светом воздух быстро теплел, ласточки кричали над прозрачной водой.

Стояло яркое летнее утро.

Да, да. Яркое летнее утро.

Стояло, стоит и будет стоять.

И никуда не денется.

Ну и хуй с ним.

Длинный.

Толстый.

Жилисто-дрожащий.

С бледным кольцом смегмы под бордовым венчиком головки.

С фиолетовыми извивами толстой вены.

С багровым шанкром.

С пряным запахом.

2011-10-29T20:03:00.009-06:00

And we passed to the end of the vista,
And were stopped by the door of a tomb;
By the door of a legended tomb: —
And I said — “What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?”
She replied — “Ulalume — Ulalume —
’Tis the vault of thy lost ULALUME

russian hookers busted in Thailand

2011-10-27T21:58:00.004-06:00

Discrimination! Russian hookers are routinely busted in Thailand and deported! And all while the businesses that are selling Russian Hookers are booming! More so then the ones employing local Thai whores that (frankly) look like monkeys. So I guess if you want Russian Hookers - you have to go to Russia. Shrooms and Berries recently visited Thailand, BTW! What a shit hole!

2011-10-26T23:59:00.003-06:00

Most of all I hate the rich old ladies. Each one conceals some vileness. Lucky traders of their cunts. They lucked out. I hate them either with or without their puny dogs. And I hate them in the stores too. And when they eat.

Even young women are disgusting when they eat. Usually they're voracious and greedy, especially after a few weeks of having sex with you, when they're certain that you are theirs and they can relax. This is when you see them the way they are. Poor boy, you imagined she was a princess, an angel. She gobbles the pieces of meat like a python, grunts over the brown sauce, wraps her lips in thick red wine, hisses voluptuously with the mixture of pineapple and coconut – she copulates with the food.

25 of October

2011-10-25T08:21:00.004-06:00

Когда я итожу,

То, что прожил

И роюсь в днях:

Ярчайший где,

Я вспоминаю

Одно и то же -

Двадцать пятое -

Первый день!

minister of economy in France with wife

2011-10-24T10:36:00.003-06:00

OLGA ON A TRAKTOR - for Tim

2011-10-23T21:49:00.005-06:00

We Miss Colonel Muammar El-Gaddafi. RIP - Rest in Pieces

2011-10-23T18:08:00.009-06:00

2011-10-22T23:30:00.001-06:00

Milieu Hostile

2011-10-22T20:21:00.003-06:00

2011-10-22T11:42:00.005-06:00

2011-10-16T13:45:00.002-06:00

The boy Bunny says to the Girl Bunny; Don't worry, this will be quick, wasn't it?

October

2011-10-11T14:18:00.003-06:00

Октябрь пришёл, сбылась мечта народов —
Разрушен гнёт в России навсегда!
Настало время доблестных походов,
Побед над злом и мирного труда.

Настали дни космических полётов,
Великих строек, покорённых рек.
По всем меридианам и широтам
Проплыл, прошёл советский человек.

Растут дома, плотины и заводы,
Плывут суда и спутники летят.
Планеты нашей прогрессивные народы
На нас с великой гордостью глядят!

At THe Movies with Shrooms and Berries - Pickpocket (Bresson)

2011-10-08T13:48:00.004-06:00

Here is another film with echoes of Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment (much like Matchpoint, American Jigolo , Taxi Driver..). Just Brilliant!
Bresson's Michel, like Dostoyevsky's Raskolnikov, needs money in order to realize his dreams, and sees no reason why some lackluster ordinary person should not be forced to supply it. The reasoning is immoral, but the characters claim special privileges above and beyond common morality. Michel, like the hero of Crime and Punishment, has a 'good woman' in his life, who trusts he will be able to redeem himself. ...
Quite a decadent (dickadent) movie, actually!

2011-10-08T12:44:00.002-06:00

I learned long ago, never to wrestle with a pig. You get dirty, and besides, the pig likes it.

yom kippur today

2011-10-07T20:19:00.001-06:00

"My most valuable days are those
when I give up the pursuit of sensuous beauty,
when I desert the elegant and severe cult of Hellenism,
with its over-riding devotion
to perfectly shaped, corruptible white limbs,
and become the woman I would want to remain forever:
daughter of the Jews, the holy Jews.""

Kay Kay and Arianna

2011-10-04T13:38:00.004-06:00

Anyway, Tim took these pics of Arianna and Kay Kay at Joe's band concert last friday night at cafe Sole. Girls sound soo great and are so pretty - got to have their pics in my trashy blog (hope,they don't mind..well, probably not cuz they do not know about my blog, thank god)

3 (out of 4) fun things to do today in South Boulder

2011-10-03T20:35:00.003-06:00

2011-10-02T09:51:00.001-06:00

Штирлиц, а Вы Еврей?
Что вы Мюллер, Я Русский!

Le cabinet littéraire of Mushrooms and Berries - "In Paris" by Bunin

2011-10-01T11:56:00.008-06:00

"There is nothing more difficult then to recognize a good watermelon or a respectable woman" - these words are taken from Bunin's story "In Paris" - A Fucking Masterpiece!
Read it if you got a chance

2011-10-01T00:18:00.001-06:00

2011-09-30T12:05:00.005-06:00

Before you diagnose yourself with depression and low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, simply surrounded with assholes!

Happy Rosh Hashanah from S$B!

2011-09-27T17:40:00.004-06:00

I've fucked a girl. 21. A good American Jewish girl with fair skin and luxuriant hair. The breasts are big and soft. The orifice overflows with mucous.

It happened in Soho, at a loft under construction – metal, cement, wood, plaster, bricks and plywood were scattered everywhere. A ruffled floor and a shattered ceiling. Her room – more or less clear of all the debris – yellow with all five (!) doors opening onto the construction chaos, and a huge window shining terribly with the lights of the World Trade Center – two sinister boxes bled their light into the window.

Even in the darkness, just by touch, I knew that I was dealing with a Jewish body. There was something special that can't be defined by words. We fucked, having smoked pot. The time passed. And her socks had been knitted and were of different colors – in the rush, we didn't even take them off (neither did we my clothes). We fucked sweet, so sweet.

Her Jewish grandfather and grandmother came over here some time in the past from Russia. The great migration took place so that the granddaughter would meet a Russian guy here and so that they would fuck.

my GIANT pumpkin!!

2011-09-24T18:05:00.007-06:00

that is Night Porter's hand

Check out the SIZE of that Pumpkin That I personally grew in my back yard! Thanx to Eileen Dolbeare wicked pumpkin seed!! From Longmont..where else . She gave me the seed and I said an indian (american indian) prayer over it as I put it in the ground at the end of may!! And look at it now!

2011-09-21T17:20:00.002-06:00

2011-09-18T23:02:00.001-06:00

Anyway, erotic sadism doesn't consists simply in riotous indulgence of the flesh , stimulated by bloody acts of cruelty - cuz in that case it would be nothing more then a deviation of the genetic instincts. Its just a cool thing. There is just something in it of a joy tempered by fear, a joy analogous to the wicked delight of disobedient children playing with forbidden things for no other reason than their parents have expressly forbidden them to go near them. Anglo-saxons always confuse it with some kind of moral rebellion, while the reality is simple - it's just a fun thing to do.

Plucked for you

2011-09-17T11:50:00.001-06:00

Took this pic for you, M&B

LOL

2011-09-17T10:54:00.005-06:00

Yeah, man is an irresolute creature pulled this way and that way by two forces of equal strength making life a losing battle in uncertain
struggle between heaven and hell, stimulated and excited by constant promises or threats only to end up by giving in and prostituting himself to whichever of the two combatants has been the more obstinate in its pursuit..

Cher Kapoostin, on your advice I am takin' a tecknology break You are right - FB, Twitter, MySpace and blogging make me stupid! Shit! Did I just misspelled tecknology? Yeap, its tecHnology!

Le Tourbillon De La Vie

2011-09-16T20:56:00.003-06:00

From Truffaut's masterpiece Jules et Jim - a film about "triangle of pure love", this song always reminds me of my wonderful french film professor at the University of Colorado Dr. Colville ( may she rest in peace).

2011-09-14T21:57:00.003-06:00

hey from Chukotka

2011-09-14T12:06:00.010-06:00

I don't know but I've been told
Eskimo pussy is mighty cold

Happy Birtday, Tim

2011-09-07T11:36:00.005-06:00

May your Birthday bring
You as much Happiness
As you give to me
Each and Every day
Love U 4- EVER!!!

Happy Birthday

This made me think of You

2011-09-07T07:27:00.002-06:00

2011-09-06T19:50:00.000-06:00

— Поцелуй меня...

— Какие у тебя губы... мягкие-мягкие...

— Ой... опять встает... так здорово...

— Нежная моя...

— Ой... какой толстенький...

— Милая...

— Вадик...

— Аааах... ммм...

— Сними одеяло...

— Прелесть моя...

— Поднимись повыше...

— Ой, ну зачем, Люд... ой...

— ...........................................

— Оммм... ой... аааа...

— ...убери колени...

SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY

2011-09-05T11:29:00.009-06:00

Gabrielle Chanel — was a wretched human being. Anti-Semitic, homophobic, social climbing, opportunistic, ridiculously snobbish and given to sins of phrase-making like “If blonde, use blue perfume,” she was addicted to morphine and actively collaborated and fucked Germans during the Nazi occupation of Paris. And yet, her clean, modern, kinetic designs, which brought a high-society look to low-regarded fabrics, revolutionized women’s fashion, and to this day have kept her name synonymous with the most glorious notions of French taste and élan.

Coco Chanel’s Secret War

That is what a new book By Hal Vaughan claims she was..... and After reading all this Shrooms$Berries admires the fabulous Coco even more!!

Ain't nothing like it like sleeping with the enemy!!!! Been there and done it and it feels Geat!!!

Joe on sax - Blues in the night

2011-09-04T15:07:00.002-06:00

ps for some reason this tape plays better on my Pink and Rinkly blog (on my blogroll )