caligula always reminds me of grandma rose. not physically, i mean she was small and tough, but she wasn't as young, and didn't have his opportunity. no, i'm reminded of the time in philadelphia i took her on a main line train to see caligula the flick. i don't recall my thinking; she said you pick and i said ok. i told darin at the library when i checked it out my caligula story and his eyes rolled of a bigness and i recalled how i sunk a little in my seat so i was level with rose and said, uh, g, you want to leave? she was glued to the screen. why, she said? afterward she cried on the train ride home. why are you crying, i said? i miss stanley, she said. oh, no, here we go, i thought. 
 i told darin it wasn't really that bad, but it may have been the lamed down version for delicate american tastes, and the extras confirmed the numbnuts at penthouse who financed the thing from as a penthouse tax writeoff, ruined what could have been a fine salacious romp if not a classic. tinto brass got downgraded from directing in post, said they changed it from an orgy of power to a power of orgy. or maybe i just blocked out the real funky stuff. anyway in the extras i saw some stuff that would shock the granny in all of us. ha. but we had a good day that day. 

see that's why i need images, even if they have nothing to do with the text. the text is so dense. 
by the end of my life, i hope to have no regrets, but i'm sure that's a train in vain.