Lunar Follies Read Online Free PDF

stolen from the cataloguing and repairing of its treasures, Eratosthenes drew a map of the world, working from memory, hearsay, dreams, and the tales of Phoenician sailors. The map on display here at the Rufus X. Noogie Museum of Purest Jade is thought to be Eratosthenes’ original. Under its triple layer of shatterproof glass, surrounded by armed guards, and protected by electronic alarms of an almost frightening complexity and efficiency, it sits in its aura of splendid uniqueness. It is generally conceded that were it to be offered for sale at auction, the map, which is only 4 1/2 by 3 1/4 inches in size, would bring in excess of a billion and a half dollars. It is, incidentally, badly drawn, of muddy, indeterminate colors, rife with misspellings, and even for its time, all wrong.

FRA MAURO
    Our Neighbors, the Italians: Myth and Reality
    Happy Tony, whose grandfather was deeply respected by all for helping to build the New York City subway system.
    Warm Sal, who stuck a fuckin’ ice pick into warm Vito.
    Familiar Carmine, who cursed out a Puerto Rican mother, hey, why not, they breed like animals.
    Brutal Biaggio, who makes homemade a pizz’ in his homemade oven in his homemade backyard with the fig trees.
    Treacherous Cesare, who bounces his fat, curly-haired babies on his knee, all eighteen of them.
    Loud Angie, who cries like a baby when his Mama sings “Sorrento.”
    Blithe Nino, working ninety hours a week onna garbage truck to send his nephew to Fordham.
    Affectionate Sal, he looks like a fuckin’ priest, God forgive me, who beat some chooch with a schlammer.
    Domestic Rocco, who fucks every broad who’ll stand fuckin’ still.
    Abusive Julie, weeping at his daughter, Yolanda’s, First Holy Communion, she was like an angel.
    Crafty Tommy, corrupting an entire honest union all by himself.
    Blatant Patsy, who don’t give a shit about his neighbor’s rights, fuck them with their barbecues.
    Carefree Luigi, who shovels raw garlic by the handful into his laughing mouth.
    Amiable Sally, crazy with admiration for all blondes.
    Beastly Ray, a connoisseur of loud clothes.
    Designing Joey, holding up a fuckin’ Jew basted store or maybe he was a fuckin’ Armenian.
    Cheerful Mooks, who corrupted a virtuous brokerage house on virtuous Wall Street.
    Benign Giannino, who once read a book for fun.
    Bloodthirsty Curzio, who loves his pasta e cicc’ like when he was a kid.
    Dangerous Donnie Peps, who has like an altar to Joe DiMaggio and Frank Sinatra behind his fruit store.
    Garish Richie, who has a mouth he shoulda gone to law school.
    Exuberant Frankie Hips, who don’t mind moolanyans if they mind their fuckin’ business.
    Cordial Lou, who smacks his wife, Filomena, on the sconce when she makes the gravy too thin like American fuckin’ gravy.
    Cold-blooded Artie the Crip, who cries like a broad when he hears Dean Martin sing in Italian it’s so beautiful.
    Devious Billy Beebee, whose suits and silk shirts all fell off a truck, right?
    Noisy Nick Noise, who likes to look for trouble with the niggers in Coney Island.
    Gay Choochie, who lost his fuckin’ gun in the Fabian Fox balcony one night, the second fuckin’ time.
    Emotional Nunzio, who makes his own wine like a genius.
    Cruel Benny Jinx, who makes out like he’s a spic and sells cocaine to the kids in the schoolyard.
    Dishonest Gus, who is connected, along with every other Italian in New York, they won’t admit it but.
    Obstreperous Tonino, who got thrown outta school for leaning on some momo football player fag.
    Glad Gino, whose pizza joint is a hangout for all the wise guys in Bath Beach.
    Fond Scoogie, who got mad as a bitch ‘cause he couldn’t get a pepper-and-egg sangwich at the New York Book Fair, which he thought was a feast.
    Cutthroat Frankie Fats, who has a fat happy wife and eight fat happy kids, God bless them.
    Insincere Gaetano, whose Uncle Pooch practically invented Roosevelt Raceway.
    Pushy Rico, who busted some guy’s head for sayin’