Thursday, July 28, 2005

(early) media update: July

I'm posting this early because I'm going to be busy the next few days getting ready for my trip, plus I won't have any internet access, you go.

Asterisks denote something I particularly enjoyed or found especially worthy of my time; your mileage may vary.


1. Haunted* by Chuck Palahniuk: In which the author managed the nigh-impossible, i.e. grossing me out so badly with one of the stories within ("Guts") that I literally gagged. That story aside, there's some great stuff in here, as expected. Palahniuk is a genius.

2. Velocity* by Dean Koontz: Much darker than many of his recent novels (a mannequin with a toothed vagina makes an appearance!), Koontz spins a disturbing tale of a man who finds himself trapped in a deadly game of cat and mouse with a psycho.

3. The Diet by Edita Kaye: An offensive, poorly written, sizeist diet book posing as a novel. Don't be fooled by the sexy cover; this is a piece of shit and every copy should be burned and then the ashes should be salted so that nothing can ever grow there again.

4. The Year of Pleasures* by Elizabeth Berg: You know, I've read every single one of Berg's novels, and there hasn't been a single one that failed to make me cry. (Talk Before Sleep, in particular, should have come with a box of free Kleenex; I was literally howling.) This lovely, lyrical novel about a widow moving to a small town and rediscovering herself was no exception.

5. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince* by JK Rowling: I don't want to say too much for fear of spoiling it, but holy fucking wow. I didn't see THAT coming. Definitely much better than its predecessor; that last book is going to be a corker.

6. Cherries in the Snow by Emma Forrest: Eh...for chick lit, not half bad.

7. The Bright Forever by Lee Martin: I've read The Lovely Bones, and you, sir, have not written the new Lovely Bones.

8. With or Without You by Lauren Sanders: A woman in jail for murdering a soap opera star reflects on her crime.

9. Harold's End* by JT LeRoy: This tiny, beautifully illustrated book is the touching story of a teenage prostitute and his...snail. Yes, really.

10. Best American Non-Required Reading 2004: Being completely anal, I wasn't sure whether to put this anthology under fiction or non-fiction, since it includes both. At any rate, the most interesting story in here is "Camp Trans" by Michelle Tea, about the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival's decision to ban transgendered individuals from attending the all-female event.


1. American Taboo* by Philip Weiss: The disturbing true story of a woman in the Peace Corps who was murdered by a fellow volunteer, how the Peace Corps covered it up, and how the perpetrator got away with it. The writing is awkward at times, but it's not majorly distracting.


1. Yotsubato* vols. 1-3 by Azuma Kiyohiko

2. Lovers Flowers by Anisaki Yuna

3. Love or Money by Sang-Eun Lee

4. X-Day vols. 1-2 by Setona Mizushiro


1. Me and You and Everyone We Know*: A delightfully quirky movie, by turns hilarious and poignant, and filled with smart and nuanced performances. AND it had Virginia Astley on the soundtrack, AND a scene where a character yells, "We could be together forever, you fucker, but you have to call me first!" And if all this wasn't enough on its own, there's one scene which couldn't be improved upon in any way (for those of you who have seen it, it's the walk to the car) and a part at the end that perfectly encapsulates that feeling when you finally find someone that just gets you. Definite thumbs up from this corner.

2. Mean Creek: A group of teenagers decide to get revenge on a bully, and then their plan goes horribly awry. Excellent performances from a mostly young cast, but it's very depressing.

3. Boat Trip: Okay, how did something this inane and offensive not only manage to get made, but wind up starring Cuba Gooding Jr. and Roger Moore? The only remotely redeeming thing about it is that it features a couple of very nice shots of Cuba's sweet, sweet ass.

4. House of Flying Daggers*: Quite possibly one of the most visually stunning movies I've ever seen. Throw in some great martial arts sequences and you know I was lovin' that shit.

5. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory*: I still prefer the original, but this hallucinogenic fantasy was pretty awesome too.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

innocent as Stalin's cupcake

Underneath my cheerfully dorky exterior, I hide a disturbing core of darkness; think biting into a chocolate truffle and finding a center of snot.

To wit:

Today I found out that Bimborella--- my former coworker and one of the few people I genuinely hate---just had a baby.

What was my first thought, do you think?

“How wonderful! Even though we’ve had our differences in the past, I’m happy for her. Perhaps the magic of motherhood will transform her foul personality into one more loving and kind.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic! I should send her a card.”

“Super! I wonder if it was a boy or a girl?”

Nay, none of the above. It was:

“Oh man, so Bimborella had a baby, eh? Man, I hope those tits she spent so much money on sag like tangerines in a tube sock.”

Evil wears a dimpled grin.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

turbulent succulent

I’m going back to Minnesota on July 31st as a birthday surprise for my brother, who has no idea that I’m coming home. Of course, Daddy-O knows, and he’s going to assist me with the plan. I haven’t seen R in over a year, so it ought to be fun, and I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I show up at the house completely unannounced.

I tend to treat my trips back to Minnesota as culinary expeditions: Hot Monkey Love at Chino Latino, Almond Delites and beef skewers at the Red Dragon, Butterburgers and shakes at Culver’s, blue moon ice cream at a tiny roadside stand in Stillwater…heaven.

Speaking of culinary delights, I found Wonka Donutz! I had to make a special trip to another city, but eh, sacrifices must be made. I have to agree with Steve Almond that the contrasting textures are a bit odd, but the chocolate center is almost trufflelike in its consistency, and therefore must be worshipped accordingly. I’m glad I bought 10 of them.

And since I was close to the town where K and I lived up until last month, I drove by the Happy Ranch. I could see a woman puttering around in the kitchen of our former apartment.

Funny, I never really liked that place, but it still felt like a violation to see a total stranger there. I wish her luck, though; may she consider it the home I never did.

This entry sucks. Change it.

HOPE YOU AIN'T HUNGRY EDIT: For those of you who were wondering about some of the food items I plan on devouring, a brief glossary.

HOT MONKEY LOVE: A deep-fried Snickers bar nestled between two slowly melting mounds of vanilla bean ice cream. The visual effect is that of the Hawaiian Muscle Fuck, but it's so damn good. It also comes with little plastic cocktail monkeys around the edge of the plate, and any dessert that incorporates plastic cocktail monkeys is a winner in my book.

ALMOND DELITES: An unbelievably potent amaretto-based drink. Actually, after the Great Van Nuys Drunkening of Ought-Four, I may have to find something else to order, seeing as I now associate amaretto with puking in a gutter, disgusting hotel rooms, and a hairy-buttocked British cover band singer in sweaty gold polyester and pointy pixie boots.

BEEF SKEWERS: Beef on skewers.

BUTTERBURGERS: ¡Madre de Cristo! Elvis would go nuts for these bad boys...a hamburger on a toasted, buttered bun. Mmmm yeah. You need to get these with tons of ketchup and mustard, an order of the best damn fries ever, and a cup of vanilla custard, which is made with fresh milk and egg yolks and tastes like heaven.

BLUE MOON ICE CREAM: I have never seen this outside the Midwest...more's the pity. Anyway, it's the color of a robin's egg, and I've never been able to find out what the hell flavor it's supposed to even BE. The most plausible explanation, given to me by a gum-chomping cashier at Nelson's, is that it's supposed to taste like the milk that's left over after you eat a bowl of Froot Loops. That's not exactly it either, but close enough. It's rich and delicious and makes me moan like a porn star.

Okay, now that I've thoroughly worked up an appetite, I'm going to return to my sad handful of Gerber Finger Food Fruit Puffs. Bleh.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

34? How the hell did THAT happen?

Currently wearing: Black shirt, black floral skirt with asymmetrical hem and pink ribbon trim, flats, Les Nereides Douceur de Vanille perfume.

Currently reading: Stop That Girl by Elizabeth McKenzie

Currently in a shitty mood because: the damn DSL is disconnected at home in addition to the phone!


At approximately 1AM, I drove over to Borders to pick up my preordered copy of the new Harry Potter book. Because it went on sale at midnight, I figured the crowd would be much smaller…and if it WAS smaller, I shudder to think what it was like earlier! The line was unbelievable, but it seemed to be going quickly, so I went ahead and took my place. I probably only had to wait about 20 minutes.

When I got home, I immediately plopped into one of the dish chairs and read until my eyes began to cross, and then I went to bed. I got up around 10AM and finished reading. Three words: holy WOW. You could have knocked me over with the proverbial feather.

At 2PM, I went over to G’s as usual, and the second he opened the door, I flung myself into his arms, squealing “Happy birthday!” We kissed for a long time, and then I sat down next to him and we watched a Jackie Chan movie on the Spike network. C and M came over around 7PM, and we all went to the deliso G could get one of those enormous, nasty pastrami sandwiches that he loves so much. Afterwards, we went back to his place and he opened presents. He did C and M’s first, and they gave him a box of Tic Tacs, the "birthday rat" (an inside joke) a Best Buy giftcard, and a Star Wars lottery ticket.

When my turn came, I gave him the card first…blank because I couldn’t find one with a good message. The outside showed a group of Buddhist monks on a roller coaster, laughing with their hands up in the air. Inside, I wrote something really sappy and enclosed $10 worth of lottery tickets (one of which was a Star Wars ticket; great minds think alike). He smiled and kissed me, and then he opened my present: Devil May Cry 3 for the PS2. He protested that I had been far too generous, which I waved off dismissively.

Afterwards, he wanted to watch Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring. It was the extended version, and I was so damn tired that I kept falling asleep. (I was especially embarrassed when I woke myself up snoring right after the Balrog scene!) C and M left after the movie, and G and I pretty much went to sleep right afterwards.


Another one of our patented lazy days. We slept in late, and then we trudged downstairs for breakfast (waffles for me, bagels for him) while watching The Chappelle Show and Teen Titans. We played a bit of Haunting Ground, and then we watched anime on my laptop. We also played two games of Scene It, and he beat the crap out of me. Man, I hate losing!


It’s kind of sad when “sleeping in” on a Monday means 7:30AM. When G’s alarm went off, we groaned and he went to his bathroom while I went to “mine”. I showered and then went downstairs to wait for him. When he came down, we had breakfast and then he left for work. I went home and, apparently feeling masochistic, decided to do two loads of laundry. Whee!

After my clothes were done and put away, I went to Ralph’s to get diet lemon Coke, and then I stopped at Subway to get lunch. I went home and talked to Dad on the phone, and then I went to the TO library and went online. I also read magazines and checked out a couple of books. Afterwards, I went to Borders and read magazines for about an hour, and I bought the new issue of Shojo Beat---a pleasant surprise because I didn’t think the new issue was supposed to be out yet! Then I went home, ate my sandwich, read two stories in Shojo Beat, and took a nice long nap.

I got up around 6PM and put on my black silk floral dress and high-heeled mary janes, and then I prettied myself up as best I could, considering that it’s about 8000 degrees here and I was sweaty. C, M, and G picked me up around 7 and we went to Café Fiore. We had to sit outside, but it was actually pleasant out by then, so I didn’t mind. C and I both got Milky Way martinis, M had a mojito, and G stuck to water. Once we’d placed our orders, it was time for gifts! Carl and M got me the new Hot Hot Heat CD, and G got me the following:

*A $50 Borders giftcard
*A $50 Target giftcard
*A bottle of Jaqua Spicy Chai shower syrup (I passed it around so everyone could smell it, and everyone loved it!)
*A mousepad with a slot to put your own picture in. G had printed something out on his computer that showed Hello Kitty followed by an ampersand and then a blank space.

“Do you get it?” G asked.

“Uh…no,” I said, feeling spacy.

“The blank spot is where you put your mouse.”

“Where I put my…oh! Cat and mouse!”

My boy is nothing if not clever!

Needless to say, I was thrilled with all of my gifts. I couldn’t believe how generous G was, and I was really touched that C and M got me something too. G kissed my hand as I thanked everyone, and I swear I almost melted into a puddle of goo.

Dinner was, as expected, very good. I had margherita pizza and, for dessert, I got the bread pudding in creme anglaise sauce, which was heavenly. It came with blackberries and raspberries on top, and G coaxed me to try them, so I did. I was surprised to find that I really liked the raspberries! The look on his face when I speared another on my fork was priceless. Dear NS, I will do just about anything you ask.

When we were driving back to Thousand Oaks, G began talking about his insane need to take a crap, so once we reached C and M’s house, he made a beeline for the bathroom. I made small talk with them until he came out, and we left shortly thereafter. Once we got to my place, I promised I’d wave from the walkway to let him know I was safe. We kissed and hugged, and then I went upstairs, waved, and walked inside.

Not that I expected anything different, but G was so generous and so loving all night. He is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me and I am grateful to whatever benevolent forces brought him into my life.

Oh! He had his follow-up doctor’s visit yesterday. Good news: he can stop using the crutches unless he’s going to be doing a lot of walking. Bad news: he has to keep the boot on for now. But at least now we can hold hands again, which I have dearly missed.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

C's birthday

I got this e-mail from G on Tuesday:

Hola! No time for proper response, please to forgive my briefs. The plan has somehow lost its simplicity -- it now seems that we three Birthday Bitches are each (if you're available and interested, that is) invited to have our own power-trip evening on our actual birthday days. You and I are bidden to join C & M tomorrow night for his birthday dinner at some fancy-pants eatery of his choosing. Saturday, I'll probably drag everyone to some cheap-ass local feeding hole, then back to my place to force M to watch "Fellowship of the Ring" or some such. And Monday, well, that'd be up to you, of course! (Café Fiore and a visit to "Willy Wonka", perhaps?)

None of this is set in stone yet, but it looks like that's the way things are leaning. For now, I'm just getting the invite for tomorrow evening out there, so you have at least a LITTLE advance warning. (As for gift, I'm trying to get ideas out of him, but if nothing good comes up, then you can just go in on whatever I end up getting him, which probably won't happen for a few weeks anyway -- we're kinda informal about that sort of stuff.)

I immediately wrote him back to say that was fine with me. He said he’d come get me on Wednesday night, so I e-mailed him directions to our apartment and that was that.

Anyway, when I got home from work yesterday, I took a short nap and then I got up and dusted/straightened up my room, which pretty much consisted of me shoving everything in my closet! Then I got dressed (sleeveless DKNY dress, high-heeled mary janes, Tiffany necklace), put on lipstick, mascara, and VIP Room, brushed my hair, and went downstairs to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

He was supposed to pick me up at 6:30, but there was no sign of him. Around 6:45, I began to get worried, and then he called me from C and M’s house to say that he had found our building, but he couldn’t find our apartment! The complex is laid out really strangely, so I wasn’t too surprised, but I felt terrible because I had completely forgotten about his foot. Anyway, he said they’d come pick us up, and they arrived a little after 7. M stayed in the car because she was in a no parking zone, but C came up with G, who had a toaster tucked under his arm. A housewarming gift for me…awwwww! I gave them a quick tour and introduced C to K, and then we were off.

C is one of those people who tries to please everyone, so when G asked where we were going for dinner, C said, “Oh, where would you guys like?” Finally, we decided on Mandeville, which is in Westlake Village. We ordered and then C opened his gifts (the new Beck CD and a Train CD) and card from G. It had a drawing of Gandalf on the outside, and it said “Gandalf wanted to wish you a very special birthday!” Inside, it said “Admit it, you got excited over that…you friggin’ geek.” G had written something like, “And then you started thinking about Gandalf bending you over and creating some magic with his flesh wand in your hidden portal. Anyway, happy birthday, pucker-muffin!” I swear, I almost pissed myself laughing.

I gave C a card and told him I’d gotten him a present, but it hadn’t arrived in the mail yet, which is actually true. I plan on giving him and M a gift bag meant for the two of them, since I didn’t get her anything and that’s hardly fair. But I figured I should give him the card on his actual birthday, and inside I wrote something about what a pleasure it’s been getting to know him and M over the past year, which is true.

“Thank you very much,” C said, looking genuinely touched. “We’ve enjoyed getting to know you too. I can’t believe it’s almost been a year! When’s the actual day?”

“Well, I guess it depends on whether you go by when we first started talking, or when we actually met,” I said. “If the former, it’s July 19th, and if it’s the latter, it’s August 28th.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. What are you guys going to do?” he asked, looking at G.

“Um,” G said, looking startled. “Never having been in this particular situation before, I’m not exactly sure! We’ll figure something good out.”


Dinner was pretty good. I had filet mignon, and it came with bleu cheese crumbles that I immediately scraped off. G asked me to try a piece, so I did, and it was disgusting. It tasted like perfume! They all laughed at me as my face squinched up in horror and disgust. Then C and I had crème brulee for dessert, while M had peach ice cream and G abstained. We talked and laughed and it was just really nice.

After dinner, we went back to C and M’s and just talked and played with the cats. M went to bed around 11:30, and G and I left shortly thereafter. Even though he was exhausted and on crutches, he insisted on walking with me. I said, “But G, you’re not going to want to navigate those stairs again! Why don’t you just walk me to the stairwell and then I’ll go up by myself?”

“Yeah, but what if there’s a hobo under there waiting to grab your ankle?”

“I’ll wave to you from the walkway so you know I escaped being molested by a hobo. My front door’s right there, so I’m home free from that point.”

“Okay,” he said, and we hugged and kissed goodnight, and then I went upstairs and, as promised, waved to him. He nodded in lieu of a wave, since he had to hold onto his crutches, and then he limped away, my wonderful NS.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

not fair, not fair, NOT FAIR

Jealousy is an unpleasant emotion, but even more so when you're jealous of someone you love.

To wit, Daddy-O.

Not only is he currently in Paris on his company's dime, but he's staying in a fancy hotel.

And not only is he staying in a fancy hotel, but he called my brother to tell him that while he and his coworkers were waiting in line at the checkout desk, a hubbub erupted. Cameras were going off and people were talking excitedly, and a man in black sunglasses and a long black coat, accompanied by a huge entourage, rushed by. The man bumped into Daddy-O and said "Oh, sorry, mate," putting his hand on my dad's shoulder. The man continued on his way, with the cameramen and photographers following him.

One of Daddy-O's coworkers did a classic doubletake and said, "Oh my god, [Daddy-O], do you know who that was?"

My dad frowned and said, "He looked kind of familiar. Some sort of rock star?"

"That was Bono!"

"From INXS?"*

Ow! The jealousy! It hurts, it stings!

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

but I want it NOW

My birthday is next Monday, and when Daddy-O asked me what I wanted, I was honestly stumped.

“Uh…just the usual, I guess…giftcards for Borders and Target…money’s always good…”

And then I got an e-mail from G that said “C and M have requested a list of possible birthday gifts for you, and don’t say they don’t need to get you anything, because it won’t work. At least this way you’ll get something you like!”

I wrote back “Uhhhh…giftcards for Borders and Target are good…maybe the new Hot Hot Heat album…”

Seriously, I have a hard time deciding what I want for various festive occasions where gifts are involved. Sure, there are plenty of things I’d love to have, like a fainting couch upholstered in leopard-print velvet, and a Mini Cooper convertible, and a diamond-studded pony, but none of these things are exactly in the price range of anyone I know.

Fast forward to today, when I was reading an article on Salon by Steve Almond, author of the gloriously nerdy confectionary love letter Candyfreak, on why he won’t be seeing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when it opens this week. He said there’s no way anyone can improve on the original, so there’s no point in seeing it.

Huh? Eff that noise, man. I love the original too, but Johnny Depp as Willie Wonka AND trained squirrels? I am so totally there.

Anyway, so I’m reading along and then I get to this paragraph:

As for the new film, it has been accompanied by the expected cavalcade of product tie-ins, the most intriguing of which (to me, anyway) is the Wonka Donutz bar, a ring-shaped chocolate thing speckled with colored nonpareils. It takes some getting used to; it contains a ganache-like chocolate filling inside a milk chocolate shell, and these two elements, along with the crunchy nonpareils, created a kind of textural triple whammy.

Oh my god.

I immediately Googled “Wonka Donutz” and found this image:

Screw the diamond-studded pony; all I want is a box of these bad boys.

Without a shred of patience, I’d rip open the box and extract one of the treats. The crinkle of cellophane would barely drown out my heavy breathing as I unwrapped a Wonka Donut and slid it between my trembling lips. A slight resistance, then a sharp snap as my teeth decimate the chocolatey shell…

…ganache coating my tongue…

…nonpareils falling down the front of my shirt and nestling between my heaving breasts…

Yes, that’s all I want for my birthday…a box of Wonka Donutz. And I’m thinking I might need a pack of Marlboro Lights for afterwards, too.

Friday, July 08, 2005

a girl's not a tonic or a pill

So yesterday, when I heard about the terrorist bombings in London, my first reaction was “Oh man, that’s so horrible.”

Second reaction: “Holy shit, Dad’s supposed to be in London this week!”

I immediately called his office and was greatly relieved when he answered. “I thought you were in London,” I said.

“No, we don’t leave until Saturday.”

“Oh thank god.”

“Thank god? Why?”

Turns out he hadn’t even heard yet, since he’d been in the office since 5:30AM and, unlike me some people, he actually does work when he’s at work. Imagine!

Anyway, although that was good news, he had some bad news too. Remember S, the independently wealthy widow he was dating and felt a real connection with? She’s flown the coop. He forwarded me her Sayonara Sugar e-mail:

Hi [Daddy-O], sorry for being so poky in getting back to you. It has been crazy with lots of company and work. It doesn’t look like it is going to get much better in July and August is filling up fast. I’ve been thinking about our relationship and I don’t think it is quite fair to give you much hope about getting to know me better as my life is so busy right now. Also, I don’t think I am ready to pursue a long-term relationship. Our dinners were fun and I just want to remember them like that. I’m sorry if this hurts you, but I must be honest. I’m sure you will not have a difficult time finding a wonderful woman that shares your interests and sincerity. I need more time before I can go there. Maybe it is just this time of year that is so difficult as [her late husband] died July 14th. That last week was horrible for both of us. I know you do understand that. Thanks for being a dear…

“What do you make of that?” he asked when I finished reading. “I mean, we really clicked from the second we met, and I was sure she felt the same way, so this really came as a surprise.”

“My first instinct is to say that she’s feeling guilty about dating again. You said you’re the first person she’s seriously dated since he died, right? Since the anniversary is coming up, I’m sure he’s really on her mind, and maybe that’s what made her take a powder. Plus, and I know this sounds really Harlequiny, maybe she was afraid that she was feeling too much for you too soon.”

“That sounds like a reasonable guess,” Daddy-O said. He paused, and then he said, “Hey, you know some really astute people. Can you see if any of them have any insight?”

Done, dearest Daddy-O! I'll ask around and see what people think.

Fun quotes from last weekend, taken completely out of context and with no explanation whatsoever because that makes it funnier:

"Oh yeah, baby, scold that dog...scold him. Yeah, he's been naughty. Oh yeah. Scold him."

"You Commie bastard. What do you have against fireworks? You sleep with Bolsheviks. Pinko."

"I'm going to put two miniature Twix in the corners of my mouth! I'm a chocolatey walrus! Arf, arf, arf!"

"What the frell is Azoth?"

"She wouldn't eat a salad unless you were threatening to harm something or someone she holds dear."

"Eat the damn cherry. I promise your body won't reject it like a bad kidney."

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

this WHOSE shit?!

So I’m sitting here at work and I get this e-mail from K:

DUDE. Someone took a monster SHIT outside our door this morning.



What the hell??

Okay, let’s examine the facts.

A) There are no dogs allowed in the complex.
B) We live on the second floor, away from the street, so the odds of someone walking their dog, only to have it run away and UP the stairs, stopping only to leave a deposit on our doorstep, are fairly remote.
C) K left around 6:45AM to take her boyfriend home, and the shit was not there.
D) I left for work around 7:15AM, and the shit was not there.

From these facts, I have come up with the following possibilities.

1) It was a particularly, er, productive cat. I consider this unlikely, as I’ve been around cats my entire life, as has K, and I don’t think either one of us has seen a mound of cat shit large enough to warrant comment. (Smell, however, is another story; cf. The Great Fettucini Incident of ’01.)
2) Someone in the complex has a forbidden dog. This scenario is more likely, although if this were the case, why would they be walking it in broad daylight, risking discovery and potential eviction?
3) An actual human being took the time and trouble to drop their pants and release their bounty of shit on OUR doorstep.

But who? Why? We haven’t been there long enough to make any enemies, and we’re about the best neighbors one could hope for anyway. Is it a case of mistaken identity? A Santeria ritual? A drunk?



Someone get me Hercule Poorot.

Friday, July 01, 2005

this my shit, this my shit

Lord only knows where my digital camera is, so I’m taking the lazy way out to show you how I decked out my crib.

I plan on filling this bubble frame with pictures of genitalia cut out from Hustler as a scathing artistic critique of how pornography compartmentalizes human beings.

Nah, just messing with you. I’ll probably fill it with cool pictures I find here and there and the tiny figurines I got out of the gashopon machines in Japan.

The bedding under which I swelter.

K and I bought two chairs similar to this at Target the other night. Ours are covered with luxurious faux suede and look much nicer than this. We’re like Chandler and Joey without money! They’re quite comfortable; I sat in one last night and watched two episodes of “Teen Titans” back to back and didn’t feel any rods poking where they oughtn’t.

Uh huh huh…rods…

Oh, and I also bought a picture at Urban Outfitters, but I couldn’t find it on their website. It’s a black canvas with a pink flower and a mandala-looking thing in the corner. I’m all about the pomo in this new pad.

Howdy Doody is annoying but efficient, and as such I have very little to do. Perhaps it is time for me to look into a lucrative career in aruspicy.

I received this wonderful e-mail from G yesterday:

Er...Saturday, usual time? C & M invited us for a July 4th cookout and whichever local fireworks extravaganza we can get our eyes on, but since I know how much you hate BBQ food and sky-flowers, I told them thanks but no thanks and signed us up for a 10K charity run to benefit Apple Paltrow's impending private school education, which as everyone knows can be VERY expensive. (It's criminal, really.) No need to thank me, of course -- knowing you as well as I do, it was an easy decision, and the shin splints and blood in our lungs are all the gratitude I'll need. Sound good?

I said I would only consider watching fireworks if we could stand there gaping at them, going “uhhhhhh” like the zombies in Land of the Dead, and he said he would insist on it.

Have fun this weekend, y’all.

Peace out.