Okay. The first one. I was listening to Under the Volcano whilst riding my bike. And at the exact moment that the narrator said, "And Hugh actually did ride over a dead garter snake, embossed on the path like a belt to a pair of bathing trunks.", I road past a dead snake lying in the gutter. Granted, I didn't ride over it, but I wasn't more than a few inches away. Pretty fucking freaky, yes?
The second one happened today. Yesterday I'd been reading the excellent, superb, and astonishing Drawn & Quarterly: Twenty-five Years of Contemporary Cartooning, Comics, and Graphic Novels, edited by Tom Devlin, and I'd read a really interesting story about how this guy--don't remember his name and don't feel like looking it up, sorry, but it doesn't matter--had been in Sweden or Norway or Finland, one of those cold countries, and had found a box of comics that contained three book collections of Ingrid Vang Nyman's Pippi Longstocking. And there were a few pages from those comics--which Drawn and Quarterly did go on to publish in English, by the way. I was surprised to find that they were kind of cool, and thought about looking around to see if I could find them at the library or on Scribd. So today I went on a bike ride, and I was listening to Stieg Larsson's The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and I heard this:
Of the books, about half were mystery paperbacks from Wahlstrom's Manhattan series: Mickey Spillane with titles like Kiss Me, Deadly, with the classic covers by Bertil Hegland. He found half a dozen Kitty books, some Famous Five novels by Enid Blyton, and a Twin Mystery by Sivar Ahlrud--The Metro Mystery. He smiled in recognition. Three books by Astrid Lindgren: The Children of Noisy Village, Kalle Blomkvist and Rasmus, and Pippi Longstocking.
This shit happens to me constantly. There has got to be a way to use this super power to my advantage.
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