My Mario Valente chicly covered my Roberto Bolaño

OK, Juju, since we're letting it all hang out.

I have this beautiful Mario Valente herringbone thigh-length overcoat. Everyone comments on it. It's the nicest piece of clothing I own. Très chère!

And, I think I've said before, I'm reading Roberto Bolaño's The Savage Detectives, at the urging of Kansas Bunny, who himself is starting in on 2666 and went to see Bolaño's translator, Natasha Wimmer, give a talk last week.

So. You know, there's this little scene early on in the first book of The Savage Detectives where Poet García Madero is in a park and is daydreaming and gets a boner and then needs to move on and has to awkwardly deal with his physical state? Well, I'm on the R train Brooklyn bound, around Pacific, crowded, standing facing a line of people seated in front of me, and reading my TSD, in which at that very moment Luscious Skin is describing a very steamy and slap-happy encounter with Maria Font, when... Uh oh!

And that is how my Mario Valente chicly covered my Roberto Bolaño.