NY.
— Claramente hablo de cata de café.
— Uno soñaba que era rey, Enrique Serna.
— Uno soñaba que era rey, Enrique Serna.
— Uno soñaba que era rey, Enrique Serna.
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Reading.
What is your most marked characteristic?
Getting a word in edgewise.
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Discovering morning.
What is your greatest fear?
Converting kilometers to miles.
What historical figure do you most identify with?
Santa Claus.
Which living person do you most admire?
Elvis.
Who are your heroes in real life?
The consumer.
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
While in New York, tolerance.
Outside New York, intolerance.
What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Talent.
What is your favorite journey?
The road of artistic excess.
What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Sympathy and originality.
Which word or phrases do you most overuse?
“Chthonic,” “miasma.”
What is your greatest regret?
That I never wore bellbottoms.
What is your current state of mind?
Pregnant.
If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be?
My fear of them (wife and son excluded).
What is your most treasured possession?
A photograph held together by cellophane tape of Little Richard that I bought in 1958, and a pressed and dried chrysanthemum picked on my honeymoon in Kyoto.
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Living in fear.
Where would you like to live?
Northeast Bali or south Java.
What is your favorite occupation?
Squishing paint on a senseless canvas.
What is the quality you most like in a man?
The ability to return books.
What is the quality you most like in a woman?
The ability to burp on command.
What are your favorite names?
Sears & Roebuck.
What is your motto?
“What” is my motto.
(Brain Pickings publico esto)
— Ken Van Sickle
After one whole quart of brandy
Like a daisy, I’m awake
With no Bromo-Seltzer handy
I don’t even shake
Men are not a new sensation
I’ve done pretty well I think
But this half-pint imitation
Put me on the blink
I’m wild again, beguiled again
A simpering, whimpering child again
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I
Couldn’t sleep and wouldn’t sleep
When love came and told me, I shouldn’t sleep
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I
Lost my heart, but what of it
He is cold I agree
He can laugh, but I love it
Although the laugh’s on me
I’ll sing to him, each spring to him
And long, for the day when I’ll cling to him
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I
He’s a fool and don’t I know it
But a fool can have his charms
I’m in love and don’t I show it
Like a babe in arms
Love’s the same old sad sensation
Lately I’ve not slept a wink
Since this half-pint imitation
Put me on the blink
I’ve sinned a lot, I’m mean a lot
But I’m like sweet seventeen a lot
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I
I’ll sing to him, each spring to him
And worship the trousers that cling to him
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I
When he talks, he is seeking
Words to get, off his chest
Horizontally speaking, he’s at his very best
Vexed again, perplexed again
Thank God, I can be oversexed again
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I
Wise at last, my eyes at last,
Are cutting you down to your size at last
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - no more
Burned a lot, but learned a lot
And now you are broke, so you earned a lot
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - no more
Couldn’t eat, was dispeptic
Life was so hard to bear
Now my heart’s antiseptic
Since you moved out of there
Romance, finis. Your chance, finis.
Those ants that invaded my pants, finis.
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - no more
— Bewitched, bothered and bewildered