Hay Festival 2005 #3

"You're creepy. Bugger off."

That's something Sam just said to me. I'm quite proud that I evoke ssuch a response due to my presence.
Sam and Lisa (with baby Grace) arrived shortly after we got back from a short trip to Hay. I only came back with one book: The Technique of Sex by Anthony Havil.
I was disappointed to find that it was just and old book about sex with no really exciting content. It was 50p from an honesty book shop, and as worthlessness is a common trait of most of he books on the shelf, it's content comes as no surprise. Having said that I have come across one bit that's worth mentioning I think.
"A man really has more brain than his wife - the difference, as a rule, is 4.5 ozs., the man's brain weighing 48.5 ozs., the womans only 44 ozs."
I'm hoping to find more old school gems throughout this book, as it covers topics about sex, I'm quite hopeful.
Oooh! Another extract I quite like (probably because I'm a bit disturbed) but doesn't make much sense out of context (I'll leave it that way too) is as follows.

"At last, in desperation, she threw herself out of a fourth floor window. Both her legs were badly broken and she suffered other injuries, but a few months later she gave birth to a very strong child. She had absolutely no use or wish for the baby, so it was put in an orphanage."

"Oh dear! Your mother is anally moist!" was a line I wasn't expecting from the book. Very forward for the 1950's.

I wrote that quote from Lisa and then made the mistake of leaving my notepad in the company of my mother.
Another book I picked up in Hay, but did not buy was a graphic novel compilation of noir short stories. I read one by Neil Gaiman and got half way through one by Alan Moore before Mum phones me from outside the shop to tell me to come join them.
I've now read six out of the ten short stories in Tom Fourgs's Spookfish, a book that Dominic sent me from the publisher Parthian that he works for. My father is working around the festival site somewhere, so hopefully I will see him there tomorrow. Unfortunately the author of this book I'm reading isn't here 'till Monday, so I'd probably miss the opportunity of getting my book signed.
I started writing this entry sometime when the sun was shining, I'm now finishing it in my sleeping bag in my tent by the light of a dying hypervalue battery powered lamp.
I'm not looking forward to waking up at six in the morning again because of the light but I am looking forward to the fry up planned for breakfast.