Not at Swim, Two Boys

Big Chris and I, after pancakes at Orphan Andy’s, decided at the last minute to spend the day lounging around, instead of frolicking with the Dore Alley boys. Chris looked really cute, too, dressed all in white for the fair, sure to stand out in contrast to the black cowhide and lobster tans. So instead of shaved penises, I’ll be reading At Swim, Two Boys, by Jamie O’Neill, which promises to be a good read. The summer’s rocketing by and I haven’t made much of a dent in my summer reading pile. I’m looking forward to reading Little Me next, and then some Leo Bersani, if only because I feel that I have to. I actually forget what else is in that pile, but I’m needing a big hit of Nabokov, which I thought would be great to follow with Shelley Winter’s Shelley, Also Know as Shirley, which I’ve always wanted to read, and Lampedusa. Okay, to the book…