Leslie’s Books and Antiques

Leslie’s Books and Antiques

The Pleasures of the Damned, 1993 was a good year – putting me on like Chapstick. The bookstore doubles as a sex shop –

Leslie’s Books and Antiques – the only ‘antique’ is a stuffed cobra fighting a mongoose sitting in dust on the counter while a floral curtain

the kind you’d find in a 1950’s farmhouse, too orange, too pink, is the only thing that separates the Best of Woman’s Weekly’s winter recipes

from the gang bangs of Bonnie Rotten and her spider web tit tattoos. Leslie looks bored behind the cock rings at the counter. It’s 3pm on a Friday

she reads Black Beauty and if her horse was willing, she’d ride at night – the thrill of fog over the creek, but he’s in Camberwarra at her ex-girlfriend’s house

she’s afraid he’ll be sold, he’s getting past his time. But one can dream – do you read Stephen King? Cujo’s on the top shelf, there’s one left – worth a look

I was in a coma five years ago, two days, as soon as I came to, I read Cujo and realised nothing scared me anymore. I used to be religious – pledged my vagina to God

no men or women for a year – then the coma happened and I realised no one sits on a throne of clouds, no one cares about my vagina

I might as well sex who I want and open a book store with all the essentials, she winks. Sex takes as much imagination as reading. Why not have them together?

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Blue Dress

(Crime and Punishment mash-up)

The student shudders under his book at her dashing entrance. The blue dress, the white under skirt, the strength of her sexual enthusiasm wafts over on her perfume.

She takes her dress off on the train and parades around in her yellow underwear, six sequins on her bra straps. She says her boyfriend is a liar.

A man up the front hides a long neck VB, drunker than Christmas. He hollers at her to “put her clothes on, there are children on the train”. The student marvels at her almost endearing insolence as she gives him the finger and spits on an empty seat. A certain triumph in her bleary eyes. The suit by the door avoids her stare while the man with the little trolley smiles with pitying condescension.

She has an animal joy, burning with damaged self-esteem. The traffic cops pick her up descending like the gods of war. The drunk laughs and laughs and spills his beer, having avoided a fine. She laughs too, as the cops take her by the arm, swinging her arse as she saunters on, singing in Russian. The student watches as the train moves on.

Weirdest book on your shelf.

So as I’ve previously mentioned, my house has a mold problem (there’s a sexy pick up line if ever I saw one). So I’m frantically moving my books to higher ground. I’ve moved all my nice ones, now I’ve just got my least favorite books to go. They’re on the bottom shelf of my bookcase (does anyone else do that? Put the books you like least on the bottom shelf?). So I was going through them and I found ‘Vinegar – 1001 practical uses’. A hark back to my hippy no-chemicals-for-me days. Now I could probably re-stock a pharmacy from my blood alone. I also have 5 books on medicinal herbs and two books on home remedies. I’m not sure why I still have them to be honest. It’s probably the book-hoarder in me that wants them. That tricksy hobbit.

over 400,000 copies sold!

What is the weirdest book in your collection?