tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10191314076886667112024-03-06T06:51:45.801+02:00mindfuckPiret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.comBlogger716125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-15047634348854834052021-07-24T11:07:00.004+03:002021-07-24T11:10:49.960+03:00<p><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">kuu paistis peale
</span></span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">kui ma võisin nutta
</span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">päike paistis peale
</span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">kui ma võisin naerda
</span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">minu enda sammaldunud
</span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">tunnete tume kõhualune
</span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">paistis peale
</span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">kui ma võisin olla ise
</span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">ja sina ei paistnud peale
</span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">sina ei sundinud häbi peale
</span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">sina ei sundinud süüd peale
</span><span style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">ja nii kerge oli olla</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">– Teele Lember</span></span></p>Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-19545799666981229032021-04-18T20:02:00.002+03:002021-04-18T20:04:21.145+03:00<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsyEz9tefFSrN6nen09xQeMkLl0nWIk2rGbnpv9IIk95s8UwKPSE3XtREDO8jVatdQXNXvfQ_N-R4mXi7rcHTnpO11QVKtZQKFYGthGBVNq5eqLS1rM9ty-k-i3MKBYW2-m3IH93p4w/s2048/20210418_193825.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsyEz9tefFSrN6nen09xQeMkLl0nWIk2rGbnpv9IIk95s8UwKPSE3XtREDO8jVatdQXNXvfQ_N-R4mXi7rcHTnpO11QVKtZQKFYGthGBVNq5eqLS1rM9ty-k-i3MKBYW2-m3IH93p4w/w640-h480/20210418_193825.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hIFfjdn0AAiYFRNce8cQx1LIJX6pEnGNXNIts-D3bfEgrZgjhA2alFw6WAY3GYvn8gHZ44j-GBddJwgpHpCMtGLs29CLZksod05oLjS95x-YSvOXk62T1y19q_V5d7Qvo6a4c19UsQ/s2048/20210418_193835.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hIFfjdn0AAiYFRNce8cQx1LIJX6pEnGNXNIts-D3bfEgrZgjhA2alFw6WAY3GYvn8gHZ44j-GBddJwgpHpCMtGLs29CLZksod05oLjS95x-YSvOXk62T1y19q_V5d7Qvo6a4c19UsQ/w640-h480/20210418_193835.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-4017028521092820352021-02-20T18:14:00.003+02:002021-02-20T18:14:44.057+02:00<p> seedin seisu</p>Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-15815757582529095552019-11-23T20:03:00.001+02:002021-02-20T18:05:35.919+02:00kui olin 23, tegin palju hapetkui raske on leppida sellega<br />
et kõik on praegu täpselt see<br />
mis kõik praegu on<br />
<br />
ja kardinat paotades ei avanegi aknast<br />
lõputute kombinatsioonide kosmos<br />
<br />
universumi mõistmise kristallselge kaart<br />
<br />
vaid pean valima ühe kombinatsiooni ja selle läbi mängima<br />
ja alles aja kulgedes näen,<br />
et variandid on end üksteise järel ritta laotanud<br />
ajajoonele lineaarseks<br />
<br />
ja saingi elada neid elusid, mis tahtsinPiret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-23082967254107816432019-11-23T20:00:00.002+02:002019-11-23T20:00:45.356+02:00möödunud protsente<br />
"<span style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px;">33% aus soov saada sooja, 33% sotsiaalne laiskus, 16% attraction, 18% mida-targemat-siin-absurdses-maailmas-ikka…"</span>Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-2492604746562731232019-11-23T19:59:00.002+02:002019-11-23T19:59:53.996+02:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/w1mUAVPaX98/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/w1mUAVPaX98?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<br />Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-26860304472798662182019-09-06T10:55:00.000+03:002019-09-06T10:55:08.112+03:00uniolin kuskil supilinliku tartu, pesuköögiliku karlova ja kajaku talu koha vahepeal. lendasin koera seljas läbi inimestest kihavate tänavate, sääl oli inimesi, kes samuti tänaval liikusid, puust vetsuuuks kostüümiks. jõudsin kuhugi kajakulikku kohta, kus oli väga palju lapsi, suuremaid ja väiksemaid, mõni oli veel päris ussike. kristi arvas, et oleks naljakas mind ühe lapse kakaga kokku määrida. ta põimis seda hoolikalt mu rinnahoidjaklambrile. pidin pesema minema, nii et võtsin pesuköögi ette järjekorda, kristi oli muidugi minust ette jõudnud. ootamise ajal kogunes sinna teisigi naisi, nt tädi kati. kui minu kord jõudis, läksin saunamajja sisse, otsisin omale uued riided ja rätiku kuskilt teisest toast ja küüni alt. minu juurde tuli üks kahel käpal kõndiv kass, kes ütles, et ta tuli austama seda traditsiooni, et kui naised saunas pesemas käivad, siis kassid tulevad nendega rääkima. küsisin, kas võin talle pai teha, ja ta ajas pea uhkelt kuklasse ja ütles, et ooo selleks ma siia tulingi !<br />
4.11.18Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-78752852915616096182019-06-11T14:23:00.000+03:002019-06-11T14:23:08.580+03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/8_RuPAqAs4s/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8_RuPAqAs4s?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-89311548604881776732019-06-11T09:59:00.000+03:002019-06-11T10:01:35.795+03:00how to pay tuition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9uUcZWLbmY9SivxWVE7hTt5K5m_ic7LmSoVYDpgM1EUANSshjq6pBhgAumZjpZoeIkSaFE3PCOdYDl_g5TFmBIkBFHO4KiYIfCUn3dd2GBRuhO001jka5Nsc2hSOP3s5TC-uMPrhy1g/s1600/tuition.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="766" data-original-width="1169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9uUcZWLbmY9SivxWVE7hTt5K5m_ic7LmSoVYDpgM1EUANSshjq6pBhgAumZjpZoeIkSaFE3PCOdYDl_g5TFmBIkBFHO4KiYIfCUn3dd2GBRuhO001jka5Nsc2hSOP3s5TC-uMPrhy1g/s1600/tuition.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-83840522356052815852019-02-05T21:50:00.000+02:002019-02-05T21:51:37.373+02:00today I thought of you, warsanBackwards<br />
BY WARSAN SHIRE<br />
for Saaid Shire<br />
<br />
The poem can start with him walking backwards into a room.<br />
He takes off his jacket and sits down for the rest of his life;<br />
that’s how we bring Dad back.<br />
I can make the blood run back up my nose, ants rushing into a hole.<br />
We grow into smaller bodies, my breasts disappear,<br />
your cheeks soften, teeth sink back into gums.<br />
I can make us loved, just say the word.<br />
Give them stumps for hands if even once they touched us without consent,<br />
I can write the poem and make it disappear.<br />
Step-Dad spits liquor back into glass,<br />
Mum’s body rolls back up the stairs, the bone pops back into place,<br />
maybe she keeps the baby.<br />
Maybe we’re okay kid?<br />
I’ll rewrite this whole life and this time there’ll be so much love,<br />
you won’t be able to see beyond it.<br />
<br />
You won’t be able to see beyond it,<br />
I’ll rewrite this whole life and this time there’ll be so much love.<br />
Maybe we’re okay kid,<br />
maybe she keeps the baby.<br />
Mum’s body rolls back up the stairs, the bone pops back into place,<br />
Step-Dad spits liquor back into glass.<br />
I can write the poem and make it disappear,<br />
give them stumps for hands if even once they touched us without consent,<br />
I can make us loved, just say the word.<br />
Your cheeks soften, teeth sink back into gums<br />
we grow into smaller bodies, my breasts disappear.<br />
I can make the blood run back up my nose, ants rushing into a hole,<br />
that’s how we bring Dad back.<br />
He takes off his jacket and sits down for the rest of his life.<br />
The poem can start with him walking backwards into a room.Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-52634348304973314142019-01-19T15:02:00.001+02:002019-01-19T15:02:55.764+02:00ei juhtu midagi nii kainel tänaval<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/123405744" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="640"></iframe><br />
<a href="https://vimeo.com/123405744">made in estonia maraton 2015 - etenduskunstide lühivormid laval. Hannes Aasamets, S.S. Fabrique</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/kanutigildisaal">Kanuti Gildi SAAL</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-72298985216891774762018-11-05T17:32:00.002+02:002018-11-05T17:32:55.203+02:00tühimike rütmidPiret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-8657886972687068072018-08-09T17:49:00.000+03:002018-08-09T17:52:54.006+03:00nälg<i>We sat for what seemed an unremarkable length of time, </i><br />
<i>given our lives together.</i><br />
<br />
Lan Samantha Chang, <i>Hunger</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-38142909347491183952018-05-10T18:58:00.001+03:002018-05-10T18:59:47.858+03:00<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ciKTL9oKZrg" width="480"></iframe>Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-20540385635770222192018-04-21T12:51:00.001+03:002018-04-21T12:52:48.196+03:00<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6xbX5hCk9FE" width="480"></iframe>Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-78922268029853362972018-01-06T12:20:00.000+02:002018-01-06T12:20:41.737+02:00<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-gd06ukX-rU" width="480"></iframe>Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-62363501998799333812017-09-24T16:58:00.001+03:002017-09-24T17:00:17.290+03:00<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dp45V_M4Akw" width="480"></iframe>Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-1660630324725097882017-06-10T19:08:00.002+03:002020-02-20T18:59:24.576+02:00„Sometimes I am not sure what others are not saying."<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/cabbageworm/122795791/in/set-409356" target="_blank">Anna-Stina Treumund</a><br />
<br />
<br />Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-76175040796855352392017-06-02T20:42:00.000+03:002017-06-02T20:50:28.465+03:00I couldn’t leave, and he couldn’t leave. He stood on the sidewalk and I kept going back for one more hug and one more kiss. I would get in the car and get back out of the car. When I finally managed to get in the car and stay in the car, we just kept our eyes on each other, and he walked backward into the sliding doors pulling his luggage. And then when he was out of sight behind the second set of doors, I pulled away from the curb, and it was like having vital organs ripped out of me.<br />
<br />
Looking back now, it probably wasn’t a good idea to drive because I was crying so hard I couldn’t see anything. I was driving down I-93, and it was like not even being in my own body. It was like that for a long time.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i><a href="http://portraits-of-america.com/post/161241153845/at-the-time-a-lot-of-different-questions-go" target="_blank">Portraits of America</a></i></div>
Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-40912687474642847942017-06-02T20:41:00.001+03:002017-06-02T20:41:58.517+03:00Panter ohkab ja vangutab pead. Selle peale on valus mõelda. Järgmine päev oli reede. Ma seisin Kreuzbergis turuplatsil, pidin just kaks artišokki ostma, need olid mul õhukeses sinises kilekotis, rahakoti olin juba välja otsinud, telefon helises, ma vastasin, Vandad rääkis mulle, lihtsalt ütles seda ja lõpetas kõne. Ma tean, et ma varisesin kokku, ma mäletan, et aedvilju müünud mees paistis algul arvavat, et ma tahan tema artišokke pihta panna, siis sai ta aru, tuli jooksuga lähemale ja jäi minu juurde seisma, et keegi mulle kogemata peale ei astuks, seal oli kitsas, munakivitänavat katsid aeviljajäätmed ja must vesi, siis kostis üks hääl, see polnud nutt, see oli looma hääl, ürgse looma kiunatus, ma olin seal põlvili, ei tea kui kaua, aedviljamüüja seisis kõrval ja ootas, et ma ennast püsti ajaksin, ta laenas ühelt teiselt müüjalt veepudeli, ulatas selle mulle, ma võtsin selle vastu, kuid ei suutnud juua, minust möödusid kingad ja raseerimata sääred, kaks saksa kutti, mõlemad kitarriga, rääkisid valjul häälel ananasstomatitest, mis olevat muidu nagu tavalised tomatid, kuid ananassikujulised, maitse oli nagu tavalistel tomatitel, aga kuju hoopis teine, ja üks kutt ütles „aga mis mõte neil siis on" ja teine vastas midagi, mida ma ei kuulnud, sest nad olid mööda läinud, olid juba kadunud, mõne aja pärast suutsin ma püsti tõusta, artišokimüüja tahtis mulle need tasuta anda, aga ma maksin, ma ei tahtnud midagi tasuta saada, ma võtsin kilekoti ja läksin koju, veerand tunni pärast märkasin, et lähen vales suunas, pöörasin ümber ja läksin koju, olin ostnud artišokke, päike paistis, saksa kutid rääkisid ananasstomatitest, ühe mööblipoe ees seisis furgoon, kust kanti välja lampe ja kummuteid, tänavakohvikus sädeles plasttopsides õlu, oli ilus päev, inimestel oli hea, jalgrattad vibasid, taksod andsid signaali, kassid näugusid, linn tuksles, aga Samuel oli surnud.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i>– </i>Jonas Hassen Khemiri</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
„Kõik, mida ma ei mäleta"</div>
Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-89869970397711579812017-05-10T13:04:00.004+03:002017-05-10T13:04:38.209+03:00Horse PianoThe idea is to get a horse, a Central Park workhorse.<br />
<br />
A horse who lives in a city, over in the hell part of Hell’s<br />
Kitchen, in a big metal tent.<br />
<br />
You have to get one who is dying.<br />
<br />
Maybe you get his last day on the job, his owner, his<br />
tourists.<br />
<br />
You get his walk back home at the end of the day,<br />
<br />
some flies, some drool. You get his deathbed, maybe.<br />
<br />
And then, post mortem, still warm, you get the vet or else<br />
the butcher<br />
<br />
to take his three best legs. And then you get the taxidermist<br />
to stuff them<br />
<br />
heavy, with some alloy, steel, something.<br />
<br />
Next day you go over to Christie’s interiors sale and buy a<br />
baby-grand piano,<br />
<br />
shabby condition but tony provenance, let’s say it graced the<br />
entry hall<br />
<br />
of some or other Vanderbilt’s Gold Coast classic six.<br />
<br />
And you ask the welder you know to carefully replace the<br />
piano legs<br />
<br />
with the horse legs, and you put the horse/piano somewhere<br />
like a lobby,<br />
<br />
and you hire a guy to play it on the hour, so that everybody<br />
will know<br />
<br />
how much work it is to hold anything up in this world.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
– Anna McDonald</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i><a href="http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2011/12/19/horse-piano" target="_blank">The New Yorker</a></i></div>
Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-81971069014592251952017-05-02T14:35:00.000+03:002017-06-02T20:44:19.380+03:00Naine BerliinisMinu jaoks on praegu otsustav mu täiesti isiklik maitse. Moskvas ei tahaks ma elada. Mind rõhus seal kõige enam lakkamatu ideoloogiline kasvatustöö, siis kohalikel puuduv võimalus vabalt laias maailmas ringi reisida ning lõpuks igasuguse erootilise fluidumi puudumine. Sealne režiim ei sobi mulle. Seevastu Pariisis ja Londonis olin ma meelsasti. Kuid tajusin seal pidevalt väga valuliselt, et jäin kõrvalseisjaks, võõraks, keda kui välismaalast üksnes taluti. Pöördusin vabatahtlikult Saksamaale tagasi, kuigi sõbrad soovitasid mul emigreeruda. See oli hea, et koju tulin. Võõrsil poleks ma saanud kusagil juuri ajada. Tunnen, et kuulun oma rahva hulka ja tahan tema saatust jagada, nüüdki veel.<br />
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Aga kuidas? Punase lipu juurde, mis mulle noorusaastail nii särav paistis, ei vii mind enam tagasi ükski tee. Pisarate summa on ka Moskvas konstantseks jäänud. Minu vaga lapsehäll on mulle kaotsi läinud, Jumal ja sealpoolsus saanud sümboliteks ning abstraktseteks mõisteteks. Progress? Jaa, üha suuremate pommide suunas. Enamuse õnn? Jaa, Petkale ja kambameestele. Idüll omaette nurgakeses? Jaa, vaibanarmaste kammijatele. Mõnus äraolemine oma vara ja valduste keskel? Ajab minusuguse kodutu suurlinna-nomaadi naerma. Armastus? See on jalge alla tallatud. Ja kui ta taas tõuseks, siis oleksin ta pärast pidevalt hirmul, leidmata temas pelgupaika, julgemata eales tema püsivusele loota.<br />
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Võib-olla kunst, orjus vormi teenistuses? Jaa, kutsututele, kelle hulka ma ennast ei arva. Ainult kitsamas ringis saan ma tegutseda ja olla hea sõber. Ülejäänud on lõpu ootus. Sellegipoolest meelitab mind elu tume ja kummaline seiklus. Jään juba puhtast uudishimust seda kaasa tegema, tundes ühtlasi rõõmu hingamisest ja oma tervetest liikmetest.<br />
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– anonüümne autor</div>
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„Naine Berliinis”</div>
Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-38646229053347240242017-04-16T12:08:00.002+03:002017-04-16T12:08:55.708+03:00the meaning is in the rhythmPiret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-66077687400049218082016-12-31T20:05:00.000+02:002016-12-31T20:05:17.083+02:00väljavõtteid 2016-stVäiksesse, kaardil justkui puuüraski uuristatud tänavasse sisse astudes jäi nurga peal silma üks sõstrasilmne pruunkihar, kelle särav pilk meid saatis. Ta jooksis järele ning asus isegi tube tutvustama. Hiljem pererahva ja kohalike berberitega fuajees piimakohvi juues tegi Abdel, nagu ta ennast tutvustas, ettepaneku õhtul katusel jointi suitsetada...<br />Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019131407688666711.post-87095446891908778492016-12-30T22:11:00.001+02:002016-12-30T22:15:30.903+02:00I want to spit bile everywhere and I want it to stain<i>„Send every bloody tampon you create to Mike Pence and he’ll still take away your reproductive rights. Grow out your pubic hair until it hits your knees and Trump will still see your pussy for the taking. Be rough like Rosie O’Donnell, or be polished and “good” like Ivanka Trump—they’ll use you either way, so you might as well be barbed and coarse enough to tear up their hands when they do. Now, all I hope for is to cause my own sort of minor destruction to the men who would otherwise take things away from me. I can never hurt them as much as they’ve hurt us (nor do I have the heart to), but can I hurt them at all?"</i><br />
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Madeleine Davies,<i> </i><i>„</i><a href="http://jezebel.com/becoming-ugly-1789622154?rev=1483040192677&utm_campaign=socialfow_jezebel_twitter&utm_source=jezebel_twitter&utm_medium=socialflow">Becoming Ugly</a><i>"</i>Piret Karrohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17490116540509922142noreply@blogger.com0