Peter Greenaway's The Pillow Book (1996) is the natural progression from Prospero's Books (1991), one of the most thoroughly erotic movies I have ever seen, and I would have a lot more to say about it if I hadn't found out, shortly after
rushthatspeaks and I finished watching and
gaudior came home, that their moving company had turned themselves into fail.
At some point in the night, I remember saying to
reversepolarity, "Today has been brought to you by the numbers duct tape, boxes, and the letter what the fuck."
The move will happen and my cousins are amazing, but I stand by the description.
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At some point in the night, I remember saying to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
The move will happen and my cousins are amazing, but I stand by the description.