Another French film week in Kyiv, a long time ago
Yeah, it was a while ago; know what I mean? Something like Saturday, April 20, 2013, and the only thing that made it worth sitting through is that Manny Face did it next to a broad with big tits – later indulged in to the fullest extent possible under tight time restraints – like up until midnight, before my ride turned into a pumpkin; know what I mean?
Look, if you got one personality split three or more ways trying to operate two out of three major sections for a literary and critical website – Kyiv Commix and The Checkout of Kyiv Unedited – unable to consolidate as a unified serious writer for that website’s Man on Earth section, still vacant with one-third the year already gone, while trying to work in the real world to make money – and then a few days after “Mobius” Manny Face goes to tango camp for a week in Crimea, where he’s getting laid by Moscow chicks dancing Argentine Tango, and then he gets back to Kyiv and it’s still holiday time thanks to Orthodox Easter May 5 and World War II Victory Day May 9, with no one in sight for work until tomorrow, Monday, May 13, then it ain’t that easy writing these things up immediately after the event; know what I mean?
And if you don’t like it, you can go to another website – HA HA HA!!! – yeah, just go ahead and try to find one as good as this!!! I mean, what are you gonna read: the stuck-up, full of itself and anal-retentive Kyiv Poster; or perhaps the cute, cuddly and bubbly [gaseous – Ed. note], but also uppity, condescending, patronizing, dumbass Western highbrow What’s Not pastime rag? They’re so fucking stupid over there, no matter how many times Manny Face writes it, they still adjective “Argentinian” (wrooong!!!) for things “Argentine.” Is that who you want? Remember – you are what you read.
As for Tango Baby, brutally violated by The Hunched Cornish a few weeks ago in my bed, this changed her into a creature far more after his mutant heart. Now she’s a catatonic eye-rolling mental case, who shrieks when she sees Manny Face but beams worshipfully at the sight of the freak. She does everything he says. She listens only to him. Without his daily instructions, she’d be at a loss for what to do; she’d die. Ergo, he’s her reason for living. Ain’t that sweet?
At this juncture, Manny Face doesn’t yet know what to do. The Hunched Cornish – after all, it’s not human – know what I mean? I ain’t afraid of no fights; the question is, how do you fight something like that?
As for “Mobius,” a somewhat dull at the edges continental spy thriller served up by French director Eric Rochant and released in February of this year, possessing a plot both shallow and confusing, go to Installment 4.5 of my journal, which I’ll post right after this – maybe tomorrow. Know what I mean?
Manny Face, May 12, 2013