David's Reviews > Dressing for Pleasure in Rubber, Vinyl & Leather: The Best of Atomage 1972-1980

Dressing for Pleasure in Rubber, Vinyl & Leather by Jonny Trunk
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Feb 20, 2011

Recommended to David by: karen
Recommended for: Stephen

Yay, karen brissette got me this, um, Valentine! I'm not sure exactly what it means or whether it is an intimation of my hobbies, but I am prepared to enjoy the hell out of it, no matter what. Thank you, brissy, for this wonderful (also: strange, in a good way) gift. I hope you didn't pay anything nearing the cover price of this book because wow. You've got to be wealthy, apparently, to look at snuffy pics of sturdy women in droopy PVC. Some of these outfits need to be tightened up just a bit. Or inflated. I don't know which, being but a novice in this sartorial realm.

Review: coming soon.

Did I tell you that I got to see karen again recently? No? Well, I got to see karen again recently. And Greg too, but you probably already assumed that because they're fucking all the time. It's hard (get it???) to locate karen at a time when Greg's helpful and amiable phallus is not inserted into her mysterious ladyparts. I should know. I've tried. Anyway, a few weeks ago, it was about fourteen days ago, and I happened to be in New York City, looking for baubles at De Beers for my high-priced, heart-of-gold call girl, and thought I should pop in (not the same way Greg does though) to see karen because maybe she's doing something I can scold her for. Like enjoying Canadians or eating animal flesh. I'd actually prefer it if she ate Canadians. Starting with Nickelback. With my longtime companion brian, who was being a terrible bitch that day, I went to this much-ballyhooed Barnes & Noble Union Square Flagship Store. I know I get in trouble for building up my expectations, but the store itself left me unwowed. I was anticipating -- I don't know -- the Taj Mafuckinghal of Barneses and Nobles, but it was the same dreary sort of corporate affair with scuffed farmhouse tables and sub-IKEA shelving that you can find in any B&N, in any city. Okay, so maybe there's more of it. More dreariness. But jeezus... B&N needs a makeover. They've worn that beaten-down New England college library look down to the nubbin. How about some pizzazz? But I digress. So whilst brian, the aforementioned bitch, was busy distracting karen -- she knew he was coming to visit and was suitably unexcited -- I went up the escalator and barged into their conversation with an intemperate question about the quality of the B&N house edition of Little Women. Well, so much for knowledgeable; karen had little opinion on the subject. But then Greg sidled over. It was probably time for him to fornicate with karen again in the self-help section. Those two! When they aren't fucking, they're eating rice pudding. But who says the activities are mutually exclusive, right? Anyway, Greg says that he thought I might show up. As if he sensed some disturbance in the force, like when Darth Vader is moping around the Death Star in Star Wars (retroactively rebranded Star Wars: A New Hope) and all of a sudden he seems to smell a mega-fart, like Grand Moff baked an air biscuit in the corridor -- but what really happened is that he sensed, through his forcefulness, that Obi-Wan 'Ben' Kenobi was somewhere nearby. That's the way it was with Greg and me apparently. Even though I live in Indiana and have vowed a lifelong vendetta against the B&N Flagship Store, he somehow sensed that I would be there. I asked karen to find me a Charles Portis book, and -- hey! -- she actually did. She wasn't nearly as inept at her job as Eh said she was. So... points for brissy! But then I got distracted and itchy and decided I didn't want the book at all. I am impulsive. I asked Greg some questions about books that were on display, but he was ignorant and unhelpful. I could tell he wanted me to leave so he could get back to all that fucking he does with karen all the time. Of course, I criticized karen's tables because the books were at sixes and sevens, in uneven piles. It was a very poor recovery. She dished out some excuse about it being late in the day, blah, blah, blah, but a truly competent bookseller wouldn't allow her tables to become so disheveled. But despite karen's incompetence and Greg's ignorance, I love them both very much in an inappropriate way, and it was great to see them in their native habitat. No, I don't mean behind a dumpster, fucking up a dust storm. I mean, pretending to be useful, efficient, and industrious.
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Comments (showing 1-15 of 15) (15 new)

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message 1: by Eh?Eh! (new)

Eh?Eh! Lies!!!

message 2: by brian (new)

brian   wait'll i unveil what i walked away from that meeting with... wow.

message 3: by Mike (new)

Mike Puma I wonder if that cape comes in my size.

message 4: by Paquita Maria (new)

Paquita Maria Sanchez Tall tales set to the beat of the ever-pulsating New York City streets.

message 5: by Paquita Maria (last edited Feb 10, 2011 07:19PM) (new)

Paquita Maria Sanchez brian wrote: "wait'll i unveil what i walked away from that meeting with... wow."

If it's Simplex 1, I hear that it isn't really all that big of a deal or anything.

message 6: by David (new) - added it

David Not tall tales. Everything is true. Except the embellishments.

The tables were really disheveled, Elizabeth. karen agreed. It was just before closing.

message 7: by David (new) - added it

David I keep imagining how these people in leather and rubber must smell when they emerge from their costumes... like canned yams and crotch sweat, I imagine.

message 8: by karen (new)

karen hahaahaha this book just made me think of you!! because i think of you!! when i am not busy fucking my best friend!!

and you see what can happen when you don't use media mail!! speedy delivery!!

message 9: by karen (new)

karen the tables were messy, it is true. and i know a lot about little women!! they are tiny!! so tiny!!

message 10: by Greg (new)

Greg David is right, I am unhelpful when it comes to film books. I am shamed.

message 11: by Paquita Maria (last edited Feb 10, 2011 10:58PM) (new)

Paquita Maria Sanchez I'm so confused by this roundabout conversation that I am just going to assume that you are ALL sleeping with one another. In rubber, vinyl, and leather. Because people I know, even internet-vicariously, are just THAT fucking roll and roll.

message 12: by karen (new)

karen it exhausts my va-jay just to think about it...

message 13: by Randy (new)

Randy Hey, this is really a raunchey lil thread...however, save yourselves some $$$ n just buy a nice custom leather belt...that way when you're done with the SeXcaPaDes you can wear it to work or a party on the weekend. I've got a high school classmate who lives in the city! Guess I need to come visit everyone and buy some really neat books from disheveled piles and say nasty things about the decor. Is that how they do it in NYC? Hope ya'll have good coffee and authentic Chinese food!

message 14: by karen (new)

karen the tables aren't always in a shambles, man - but i had better things to do right before closing than tidy them when i knew they would just get messy again when some d'bag threw their bag on top of them to root around for money or a gun or whatever people root around for.

we have both of those things.

message 15: by Michelle (last edited Feb 14, 2011 10:06AM) (new)

Michelle The phrase 'dumpster fucking' cracks me up. So does this:

No, I don't mean behind a dumpster, fucking up a dust storm.

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