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Memorie di un maiale - tascabile, 1514627574, Alexander Ferrar-
US $9,90
CircaEUR 8,88
Condizione:
Buone condizioni
Libro che è già stato letto ma è in buone condizioni. Mostra piccolissimi danni alla copertina incluse alcune rigature, ma nessun foro o strappo. È possibile che la sovraccoperta per le copertine rigide non sia inclusa. La rilegatura presenta minimi segni di usura. La maggior parte delle pagine non è danneggiata e mostra una quantità minima di piegature o strappi, sottolineature di testo a matita, nessuna evidenziazione di testo né scritte ai margini. Non ci sono pagine mancanti. Per maggiori dettagli e la descrizione di eventuali imperfezioni, consulta l'inserzione del venditore.
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Oggetto che si trova a: Houston, Texas, Stati Uniti
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Consegna prevista tra il ven 27 set e il mer 2 ott a 43230
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Restituzioni entro 30 giorni. Le spese di spedizione del reso sono a carico dell'acquirente.
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Numero oggetto eBay:304886862422
Specifiche dell'oggetto
- Condizione
- ISBN
- 9781514627570
- Book Title
- Memoirs of a Swine
- Publisher
- CreateSpace
- Item Length
- 8.5 in
- Publication Year
- 2015
- Format
- Trade Paperback
- Language
- English
- Item Height
- 0.5 in
- Genre
- Humor
- Topic
- Topic / Men, Women & Relationships
- Item Weight
- 11.5 Oz
- Item Width
- 5.5 in
- Number of Pages
- 204 Pages
Informazioni su questo prodotto
Product Identifiers
Publisher
CreateSpace
ISBN-10
1514627574
ISBN-13
9781514627570
eBay Product ID (ePID)
219276498
Product Key Features
Book Title
Memoirs of a Swine
Number of Pages
204 Pages
Language
English
Publication Year
2015
Topic
Topic / Men, Women & Relationships
Genre
Humor
Format
Trade Paperback
Dimensions
Item Height
0.5 in
Item Weight
11.5 Oz
Item Length
8.5 in
Item Width
5.5 in
Additional Product Features
Intended Audience
Trade
Synopsis
Normally, guys will take girls out on the same paint-by-numbers date. Pick her up, take her to a restaurant, chat for a while, take her home, have that awkward moment, and maybe kiss, and maybe be invited inside. The whole time, she is in control of what'll happen later. There is nothing special about a date like that, so I change it up a bit. What I do is ask her to come pick me up, and when she comes over, I answer the door nude except for a towel."Oh, hey, sorry, I'm not ready yet," I say. "But come in." Then I stop and make a face, the kind of face girls tend to make when they ask if you have a condom, and I ask "Would you mind taking off your shoes?" I gesture with a tilt of my head to the shoes sitting there by the door, and she always hesitates, then smiles uncertainly and slips her shoes off, looking at my washboard abs and the towel wrapped around me, and she comes into my territory feeling a little vulnerable and at an advantage at the same time."I'll just be a minute," I say. "You want a glass of wine while you wait?" She makes a yes-no tilting of her head and says "Sure."I lead her into the kitchen in my towel, her feeling the cold tiles underneath her bare feet and feeling at home in a stranger's house, feeling the tingle of being with me in such a familiar and personal way before our first date even begins. We toast, watch each other over the rims of our glasses while we drink, and then she looks around the house and invariably asks me about one of my paintings. We end up in the room I use for my studio, which is right next to the bedroom. She is always amazed and never fails to give me a sly smile, biting her lower lip and telling me she wants me to draw her."Really?" I ask.She nods. We never end up making it to dinner., Normally, guys will take girls out on the same paint-by-numbers date. Pick her up, take her to a restaurant, chat for a while, take her home, have that awkward moment, and maybe kiss, and maybe be invited inside. The whole time, she is in control of what'll happen later. There is nothing special about a date like that, so I change it up a bit. What I do is ask her to come pick me up, and when she comes over, I answer the door nude except for a towel. "Oh, hey, sorry, I'm not ready yet," I say. "But come in." Then I stop and make a face, the kind of face girls tend to make when they ask if you have a condom, and I ask "Would you mind taking off your shoes?" I gesture with a tilt of my head to the shoes sitting there by the door, and she always hesitates, then smiles uncertainly and slips her shoes off, looking at my washboard abs and the towel wrapped around me, and she comes into my territory feeling a little vulnerable and at an advantage at the same time. "I'll just be a minute," I say. "You want a glass of wine while you wait?" She makes a yes-no tilting of her head and says "Sure." I lead her into the kitchen in my towel, her feeling the cold tiles underneath her bare feet and feeling at home in a stranger's house, feeling the tingle of being with me in such a familiar and personal way before our first date even begins. We toast, watch each other over the rims of our glasses while we drink, and then she looks around the house and invariably asks me about one of my paintings. We end up in the room I use for my studio, which is right next to the bedroom. She is always amazed and never fails to give me a sly smile, biting her lower lip and telling me she wants me to draw her. "Really?" I ask. She nods. We never end up making it to dinner., Johnny is a thirty-year-old boy-a heart-breaking, hard-drinking, bar-fighting artist gambling with his life, only now, the stakes are higher than ever and he finally meets his match. Learning how to become a man is hard enough without also trying to crack the greatest mystery of all-the mind of a woman. Excerpt: Normally, guys will take girls out on the same paint-by-numbers date. Pick her up, take her to a restaurant, chat for a while, take her home, have that awkward moment, and maybe kiss, and maybe be invited inside. The whole time, she is in control of what'll happen later. There is nothing special about a date like that, so I change it up a bit. What I do is ask her to come pick me up, and when she comes over, I answer the door nude except for a towel."Oh, hey, sorry, I'm not ready yet," I say. "But come in." Then I stop and make a face, the kind of face girls tend to make when they ask if you have a condom, and I ask "Would you mind taking off your shoes?" I gesture with a tilt of my head to the shoes sitting there by the door, and she always hesitates, then smiles uncertainly and slips her shoes off, looking at my washboard abs and the towel wrapped around me, and she comes into my territory feeling a little vulnerable and at an advantage at the same time."I'll just be a minute," I say. "You want a glass of wine while you wait?" She makes a yes-no tilting of her head and says "Sure."I lead her into the kitchen in my towel, her feeling the cold tiles underneath her bare feet and feeling at home in a stranger's house, feeling the tingle of being with me in such a familiar and personal way before our first date even begins. We toast, watch each other over the rims of our glasses while we drink, and then she looks around the house and invariably asks me about one of my paintings. We end up in the room I use for my studio, which is right next to the bedroom. She is always amazed and never fails to give me a sly smile, biting her lower lip and telling me she wants me to draw her."Really?" I ask.She nods. We never end up making it to dinner.
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