Fatbigbunny-blog - Sleepyfoot The Bunny

Hoppy under the Christmas tree! in this hot weather, we all need to cool down and there’s no better way to do it than to think of pine trees and snow and Christmas!!!

Marilyn Monroe, 1957. Photo taken by Sam Shaw

Katherine Hepburn, c.1941

The tide, I have it in the heart that goes back to me as a sign I die of my little sister, my childhood and my swan A boat, it depends how it is docked at the port of accuracy He cries from my firmament years of light and leaves me I am the fantasy jersey, the one who comes the night Throw the mist in kiss and pick you up in his rhymes Like the tremail of July where the lone wolf glowed The one I saw shining on the sand fingers of the earth

Remember this dog that we release on parole And who mouths in the desert of the greed of necropolis I'm sure life is there, with its flannel lungs When he cries of those times, the all-gray cold that calls us I remember the nights there and sprints won on the scum This drool of the horses ras, in the rock of the rocks which are consumed The angel of lost pleasures, rumors of another habit My desires, then, are only a sorrow of my loneliness

And the devil of the nights conquered with his helpers And the squale of paradises in the middle wet with moss Come back green girl from the fjords, come back violin violinades In the harbor, the horns are booming, for the comrades' return Ф rare scent of salting, in pepper fire crush When I went, my brain, my soul in the hollow of your wound In the mess of your ass, stuffed in fine dawn sheets I saw another stained glass, and you green girl, my spleen

Shells under sunlights, broken, liquid Play castanets as long as one looks like livid Spain Gods of granites, have pity on their vocation of adornment When the knife comes to interfere in their figure castanets And I saw what we feel when we press the glimpse Between the louvers of the blood and the globules appear A blue mathematics, on this ever-changing sea From where I go back little by little this memory of the stars

This rumor that comes from there, under the bow boyfriend where I blind myself Those hands that make me fla-fla, those ruminant hands that moo This rumor follows me a long time as a beggar under anathema Like the shadow that is wasting its time drawing my theorem And under my red makeup comes beating like a door This rumor that goes up, in the street, to dead music It's over, the sea is over, on the beach, the sandy beach Like sheep of infinity ... When the sea shepherdess calls me.

Léo Ferré - La mémoire et la mer

with all due respect, my dad was a veteran of the second world war, and would, were he still alive, take exception to this statement.

and don’t forget how the third reich dealt with homosexuals:Heinrich Himmler was the driving force behind the persecution of homosexuals. He considered homosexuality an illness that poisoned the entire body and mind (Mosse 169). Himmler says the execution of homosexuals was “not punishment but simply the extinction of abnormal life” (Herzog 35). In 1937, Himmler declared that any member of the SS convicted of homosexuality must be executed. Because Himmler felt that homosexuality was caused by lack of feminine contact, he often promoted female prostitution. The National Socialist regime’s goal was to eradicate homosexual behavior and not the “homosexual” himself, although the end result was often the same (Heger 96). They often believed that this could be done through re-education or castration.