Wake Up, Get Out of Bed, Headbutt a Stoat

Some of you may be familiar with Daily Routines, a site which reveals to the ever-eager world the daily routines of various aristic and, on occasion, merely interesting people. It is here that we may learn that Will Self has a stove on his desk, Gerhard Richter drinks chamomile tea and James Thurber used to write during parties (albeit in his head).

Wonderful as it is, however, this site has yet to feature any of the artists with whom I am inclined to deal. Where, for instance, is Koira Jupczek? Whither Johannes Speyer? Why no anecdotes about Eugene Matendré? It’s a criminal oversight, of course, though one which I have the opportunity of correcting here on my own blog (feel free to breathe that sigh of relief right now).

I could say that this will be a regular series, but I don’t wish to steer my raft in troubled waters, so I won’t. Suffice it to say that I will be supplying you with facts relating to the daily routine’s of obscure European writers only if and when they emerge.

Allow me to start with a small detail regarding the breakfast habits of Pyetr Turgidovsky, author of The Lunatic and the up-and-coming Delicious Air of Life.  Most of us, Turgidovsky included, will have heard Mark Twain’s remark about eating a live frog every morning in order to ensure that one’s day can only get better. For Turgidovsky, however, eating a frog is clearly not enough. ‘Eating a frog, toad, or any amphibian life form would be, whilst destatable, a significant improvement on most of the other things I am forced to do during the course of a normal day,’ he once wrote, adding that he ‘would rather snort five salamanders up my nose than spend five minutes conversing with a friend at a supermarket’. With this in mind, he has always required something much more potent than a frog for his breakfast. But what?

How about the previous night’s dinner (digested)?

[Parts Two and Three of this article can be found here and here]

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3 thoughts on “Wake Up, Get Out of Bed, Headbutt a Stoat

  1. Wasn’t it Oscar Wilde who said one of the chief delights of life was five minutes conversing with a friend in a supermarket? Or was it seven? Then again, perhaps he didn’t say it at all. It must have been someone though, unless of course it wasn’t.

  2. I’ll need to check that one in my copy of Witty Quotations to Suit Every Occasion Except Perhaps a Bar Mitzvah Courtesy of Mr Oscar Wilde Deceased. If it’s not in there, I’ll credit you with it.

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