Wednesday, June 30, 2004

Did anyone know that Martin Van Buren had a weblog?
I like it when he claims to have invented the word "ok."

How to Justify That Degree: Using useless knowledge to make up history
Episimology is the philosphy stating the importance of eliminating the letter t from written language. Though information is scarce, the basic tenets can be found buried in Kant's lost writings, (Which, admittedly, were mostly doodles of flowers, incoherent notions and messages for his roommate and probably not worth an entire class in my philosphy department.)

It is still considered a more cohesive school of thought then existentialism or emocore.

In the next round vector calculus and thoeretical numbers shall be mentioned to look like I know math.

did I mention I keep getting typecast as the Molly Ringwald character in every scenario?
don't don't don't don't

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

I'm surrounded by complete idiots.

Monday, June 28, 2004

Tantric cuddling.

(It's pomoerotic.)

Sunday, June 27, 2004

Found this whilst cleaning out the ol' outlook folder...
I Am Better Than Your Kids

Saturday, June 26, 2004

Figgy pudding? Trysatan pudding!

(thanks to Stress.)

asleep/awake/asleep/awake. Thanks construction!

in the meantime...

on a calm sunday afternoon something horrible happened....

two people got bored and made a movie.
a very odd, unfathomable movie.

you can see it here:

it's jill and mine's directorial debut.
it would have never seen the light of day if not for jill using the all powerful i-movie and editing her way to fame. such technology eludes me.

jill will be taking questions tonight at Lenny's. i'll just be nodding and eating cheese.


It is true.
Except it wasn't Sunday afternoon, so much as Saturday morning.
And then there was the whole mental breakdown part, I think I called from the roof.
No questions so far.
But cheese was eaten.

The construction team next door decided to show up at 6am and start throwing metal into other metal. It’s lovely, really.

I put all my R.E.M. tracks on shuffle and "Shiny Happy People" was first. It made me feel seven, when I assumed a shiny person had been cleaned to a streak-free shine.

It's 5:30 in the morning, and I am very much alone with my thoughts.
My thoughts strike me as all-around vague. I'm vaguely sad, vaguely dissappointed, vaguely tired, vaguely want to go to sleep, vaguely do not want to be alone. Everything's starting to grind to an even dull, meaning something has to change. I don't know what/when/how/why/who but something definitely needs to hit the mill running.
It wasn't a bad night. I can't fully explain my unease...I think I just want to fall asleep with someone. Not sex (and I know guys love that). Just sleep. Nothing against sex per-se but right now the absense of alone is more important and you have to gain my comfort meaning not just anyone, the just anyone I'd be slipping away from first thing. misscrypticrypticryptic, yeah.
I am going to work a little on the stories, catch up a little on the poetry, and get a little sleep. Because god knows.

Friday, June 25, 2004

Hey, I finally did something with all that stuffed bear footage.
Yeah, it's academy-bound.
Oh and apologies to IASGITM for using their music without permission...should I ever get corporate sponsorship on this mess of crap you will get your cut. In free sandwiches.

Thursday, June 24, 2004

I was just given copies of the illustrious publications YM, Twist and J-14.
Girls youth market prepaid ads...and since I am the only female writer in the department, I get the job by default. Because I am nothing if not in-touch with the youth of today.

According to the covers I am about to learn the following things:
Summer Date Do's and Don'ts (dating? what's that?)
How to look sexier in jeans. (um, this is aimed at girls HOW OLD?)
Primping my ride...(by the time I had a car I was subscribing to The New Yorker, not YM)
That Avril "is no fake." (at sucking)
That the youth of today refer to Orlando Bloom as "Orly." (as I shall from now on in any future encounters.)

Ok I'm off to see The Stepford Wives. And I'm off!

I would go see "Psycho" tonight at screen on the green.

But they're predicting showers.

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

He is, in fact, still riding for us all.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

That "If you're going to San Francisco..." (flowers, blah blah) song is my obnoxiously bad song of the week.

How many ways can one say "hurry in"? I'm being forced to find out.

Oh, and now it's a monkey on a collie that's riding for us all.

My wallet's gone! My wallet's gone! What do you suppose the odds are, if I did indeed leave it on Marta, that someone actually took it to lost and found? Probably pretty slim. I called and they said it would take 2-3 days to know if someone actually returned it.
I would have more faith in humanity if humanity actually deserved it.

On the plus side o the spectrum, I gots me a Saab!
It's so nice to drive a car in which everything works.
If I don't find my wallet I have to go BACK to the DMV...because I guess that hour wait in line last week just wasn't enough for them.

I think I might have overdone it a bit on Saturday night, as yesterday I threw up the first thing I'd eaten in two days.

Unicycling poodles are the ones who ride for us all.

Sunday, June 20, 2004

For My Dad- "Dad,"
Congratulations On Successful Parenting for 25 Years!

Instead of sending a card or a puppy, I wrote this touching comedic essay on specific moments throughout the years, and their relationship to something completely unrelated and/or strange thereby developing an unsubstantiated hypothesis disguised as a sudden unexplained ending.

Plus Golf Tips!

And so it arrives, this day set aside to thank the Y chromosome in my developmental processes for unleashing his characteristics all over my gene pool, forcing me to be spat out into this world and then, luck of all luck, to exist. And exist I did!

But not without the help of a little thing called... um, those early years seem to be kind of a blur. Ok, I definitely recall being carbon-based and multicellular. And small, though photographs would indicate a large amount of baby fat in the cheek area. I was probably spending most of my free time developing basic motor skills and allowing my cells to divide and conquer my small-ness at a rate since unmatched. (Though it's entirely possible I was simply overcompensating for my hefty cheeks.)

It wasn't until I conquered what French psychiatrist Jacques Lacan defines as the "mirror phase" (the discovery of "self" by the ability to distinguish between "self" and "other," or "self" and "mother," or "self" and "shiny object." this theory is based on the structuralist tenet- lacan being a linguist on the side- that our "self", or in language "the signifier", cannot exist without the recognition of "the other" or the "signified." it's all one giant argument for the presence of context, which I shall return to at a more opportune moment.)when my life really began to take off. For one of the most recognized "others" was my father. And, as though I were giving linguistics the big thumbs-up, I promptly uttered the phrase "da."

Or was is "ball." (ba) I know I was one and my brother the other (not THAT other, silly) but since it is I- not he- penning the tribute essay I shall recall that my first shout out was in recognition of dad. And it's highly unlikely that my first utterence to the world would refer to an object used primarily in sports, unless I had an unusually early grasp of irony.

Instead of using this newfound communication skill to yap endlessly to anyone in earshot about things I saw, what they were called, and my basic grasp of "noun followed by exclamation point" sentence structure, I chose to instead quietly observe my surroundings, letting everything mull and only talking when absolutely necessary. Sources say I was a quiet child, only excited over select events. One of these events was Dad's return from the office, an event marked by the roar of one dark green Toyota known by some as the "mean green riding machine."

I did not coin that particular nickname.

That was one cool car, though. Orange leather-ish interior, cracked to perfection. A faint gasoline-like odor emerging from some unknown realm..these are not amenities you find on a car available (legally) in today’s market.

Some might go so far as to say that my reluctance to let go of my own aging toyota was an attempt to replicate the mean green riding experience. Some might also say that I just made that up just now. Some would be right.

My father also fostered an early love for harmony-monging singer/songwriters of the far east, being that the only piano songbook I had to practice from prior to age 6 was a Korean version of "The Best Of Simon and Garfunkel."

Now I shall transition flawlessly to a second-grade semi-independent study of art history, primarily impressionist Claude Monet. Having selected him for depicting nature with the same blurry ambiguity formerly reserved for my own mental canvas, I was finding it difficult to transfer Monet's image from my art book, through my head, and onto the canvas. i.e. every time i tried to copy one of his paintings (which, I should mention, was part of a grander project involving note cards and a washingmachine box) it turned out looking less like impressionism and more like some postmodern jab at high-concept refrigerator art. On the verge of abandoning my fake artistic endeavors in favor of fake domesticity, I had all but painted myself into a blue period when, with no prior training in watercolors, Dad joins me in my studio (basement) and our combined art-forgery-talents made Monet looked like Monet, on cardboard, on everything back before the basement was carpeted and nintendoed.

And though I can't say I completely understand the appeal of spending Saturday mornings running until you fall over or are told to stop, I can certainly think of worse ways to get from point A to point B. I would like to offer my gratitude, Dad, that you developed a taste for running, while staying away from such activities as porcupine-wrangling or...ok I can't think of anything worse than porcupine-wrangling. My point (of this paragraph, anyways) is that even though I spent many a Saturday gasping for the sweet breath of life after completing the grossly misnamed "fun run," at least it was 100% free of the deadly quills of an angry porcupine.

There are numerous other vaguely amusing antecdotes, happenstances, reversals of fortune, races against the clock, award winning musical numbers, crime-fightingscapades, and general life lessons involving the central figure of my father’s day celebrationessay, but I am going to refrain from going into any more detail.
Rewrites are already forcing the final draft closer and closer to deadline- a deadline which has, strangely enough, forced the cancellation of any rewrites.

Dad, I have been trying to think of some useful golf tips I can give as parting words of wisdom. I feel my 9mph golf cart rampage that one time has given me special insight, insight which must now be shared:
-Golf is actually a complicated blend of sport and science. Learn the precise combination of this blend that makes the golf ball go into a tiny hole far into the distance and you are sure to score some points.
-Sandtraps to an average golfer: not trapping anything. Sandtraps to a premium golfer: traps any living creature that dares venture towards it.
-Every time you miss a shot, shake your fist skywards and rage at the heavens. Chances are your teammates will slowly back away from you and victory by default is yours!
-Keep in mind that golf is extremely slow-moving and dull. Try not to accidentally lapse into a coma while waiting for your turn.
(with apologies to the onion for stylistic ripoffs)

Happy Father’s Day, Dad! Congratulations on a quarter-century of quality me!

(and yes, I am actually sending this to him as he does not read this site)

Saturday, June 19, 2004

hidden in the comments of a certain blog filled with sentences and the spaces between them is an addendum which, noting rule #35, must be posted.

31. don't use capital letters. this complete disregard for the shift key will reveal to the world your true rebellious nature.
32. tell people what to do as often as possible, as they are probably unable to think for themselves...this is especially applicable if most of your readers are girls between the ages of 15 and 21.
33. if you have no original thoughts, nudity is an acceptable substitute. the internet needs more jerk off fodder- that especially applies to readers finding themselves on number 60-something of a comment sheet.
34. all blogging software besides blogger is evil- especially livejournal. content is no longer the most important aspect of a good blog, it must first be powered by the software of my choice.
35. when your comment is this far down a list, you should copy and paste it into your blog. that way you will look as self-riteous as possible to as many people as possible.
36. monkeys really draw a crowd. get a monkey to write your blog if possible.
37. a three-day drug binge is sometimes the only way (assuming you channel burroughs) to arrive, via stream-of-conciousness, on the correct tangent.
38. logic is the enemy. no, wait, livejournal is the enemy. ok, the enemy list is still 1. livejournal 2. logic 3. clothing.
39. 4. the shift key.
40. all good lists end at 40, even if you have to tack on nonsensical jibberjabber to make it so.

You really must visit this site. Sort of a creepy interactive art installation, I spent all morning getting sucked through all 99 rooms.


Friday, June 18, 2004

AIM Chats re-imagined with fictional character names, while scarcely altering the original text, all at the same time!
Part One

DDiver: wtf?
Lady Brett: I was on the phone
Lady Brett: so I didn't want to be like- hold on, i gotta kick some ass
Lady Brett: yeah and the rest of the night too
Lady Brett: so I’m a little hesitant about the lake thing
DDiver: well, I would not want to invite him to the lake
DDiver: if I were yoi
Lady Brett: no lake for you
DDiver: *you
DDiver: as long as I can take the speedboat and make it back to work by 10am, then I can go.
Lady Brett: ha.
DDiver: 100 nautical mph!!
Lady Brett: james bond speedboat on land style
DDiver: hahaa
Lady Brett: I hate this part of the lake house trip
DDiver: the part where you have no idea how you will get there?
Lady Brett: yeah
Lady Brett: the part where I am not there
Lady Brett: I was thinking-
Lady Brett: you should open an East Egg Diner
DDiver: yes!
DDiver: and do it right
Lady Brett: where you can get eggs poached, florentine or facedown in the pool.
DDiver: and run the west egg diner out of business!
Lady Brett: hah
DDiver: hooray!
Lady Brett: right across the street
DDiver: it'll be an all out war
Lady Brett: put a giant green light on top
DDiver: front page of the food section in creative loafing
DDiver: yes!
DDiver: the wait staff will wear all white tennis gear
DDiver: some will dress in golf attire
DDiver: a la jordan baker
Lady Brett: fitzgerald would be so proud
DDiver: headline:
Lady Brett: and then down the street someone opens up "Tender is the Sirloin"
Lady Brett: hah
DDiver: yep
DDiver: wait, would i open that too?
Lady Brett: it will be the most esoteric theme restaurant street ever!
Lady Brett: if you want
DDiver: or would i have to open something called "the beautiful & the damned" to run that place out of business
Lady Brett: "the tender sirloin and the tenderer sirloin?"
DDiver: "hello young man! what do you do for a living?"
DDiver: "why, i pick restaurants that think they're hot shit and i start up a better restaurant and run them the fuck out of business!"
Lady Brett: ok now you're in a whole ayn rand area
DDiver: "you may remember a little restaurant called fellinis. you don't? maybe that's because i ran them the fuck out of business with a restaurant that has a clever name that i cannot think of right this moment!"
DDiver: "oh yes!”
Lady Brett: rossellini's!
DDiver: yes!
Lady Brett: haha
DDiver: man, this is such a good idea!
Lady Brett: yeah you just need a shitload of money!
DDiver: no problem
DDiver: i'll worry about that later when the bills arrive
Lady Brett: i hear if you dj at mjq you get a shit load of money!
DDiver: 1.start djing at mjq
DDiver: 2.make shit-ton of money
DDiver: awesome restaurant and run other restaurant out of business
Lady Brett: that sounds fool proof
DDiver: 4.laugh as the owners of the other restaurant are forced to live in the gutter
Lady Brett: it all comes full circle
Lady Brett: watery death.
DDiver: will i have to kill someone to get the dj job?
Lady Brett: no
Lady Brett: the lake does all the dirty work
DDiver: that's a pretty good deal
Lady Brett: it even cleans up its own messes, so the lake only runs red for like a second
DDiver: haha
Lady Brett: oh the lake
DDiver: you gotta go
Lady Brett: but how, man! HOW!
DDiver: only god knows
Lady Brett: you should open a better lake across the street
DDiver: what do i look like, a genius? no, i don't.
Lady Brett: no that would be me did you see that better lake idea?
DDiver: hell, i'll just open up a lake in atlanta period! watch the ca$h roll in
Lady Brett: open a wave pool
DDiver: haha
DDiver: in east atlanta
Lady Brett: how odd
DDiver: no one goes to east atlanta enough
Lady Brett: that sounds like a dream i would have
DDiver: really?
DDiver a wave pool in east atlanta?
Lady Brett: yeah my dreams are never good or bad just odd
Lady Brett: like shit where it shouldn't be...a wave pool in east atl
DDiver: right
Lady Brett: even my subconcious is disorganized
DDiver: i have dreams like that, but in my dreams for some reason the wave pool being in east atlanta would be evil and i would be terrified of it
Lady Brett: haha
DDiver: and wake up soaked with sweat
Lady Brett: bodies of water...gotta watch out for em
DDiver: the horror!
Lady Brett: you probably should not have called it "Wave Pool Bloodbath!"
DDiver: haha
DDiver: "east egg bloodbath cafe"
Lady Brett: everything served raw. extra raw.
DDiver: raw toast
Lady Brett: one mound of flour coming up
Lady Brett: raw raw bars
DDiver: yes
Lady Brett: i have a cake here waiting to be transported to the lake
Lady Brett: cake of the lake
Lady Brett: so yeah no lake or cake
DDiver: it's not gonna happen?
Lady Brett: only if Dedalus returns my call
Lady Brett: i just talked to the lake
Lady Brett: (mamadalloway called me last night from the lake house and i entered it as "lake")
DDiver: what did the lake say?
Lady Brett: that people were in a speedboat on it
DDiver: did it say that it looked like the people were having fun on it?
Lady Brett: yes...until it as every other body of water turns to the dark side and begins the massacre
DDiver: it always starts out friendly. luring people onto itself with a smile and a wave
Lady Brett: that is the ocean
DDiver: oh yeah
Lady Brett: if you are going to do bad puns at least get the facts right
DDiver: with a smile and a freshwater fish like a catfish or a crappy jumping out of it
Lady Brett: haha
DDiver: sorry about the pun
Lady Brett: crappies!
DDiver: what a fish!
DDiver: Gregorovius is always talking about a kind of fish called "shad"
DDiver: and i like that name too.
DDiver: think of all the crappy you could catch if you went to the lake today!
Lady Brett: before my death?
Lady Brett: my watery death?
DDiver: yes!
DDiver: the lake will let you catch a "mess of crappy" first
Lady Brett: and then you notice amongst the mess of arm!
DDiver: have you ever eaten one?
Lady Brett: no
Lady Brett: an arm?
Lady Brett: no
DDiver: one sec
Lady Brett: ok
DDiver: once i had a salad from carrol st and it had anchovies in it
DDiver: i was unaware of this
DDiver: i ate one thought it was an onion
Lady Brett: not listed under "ingrediants?"
Lady Brett: i wonder if anchovies are packaged in anchovia...
DDiver: then when i got to the bottom of the salad and saw another one, i thought it was a slug
DDiver: and thought i was going to vomit
DDiver: then i realized it was an anchovie when i read the ingredients
DDiver: i bet they are
Lady Brett: oh that one was.
Lady Brett: a slug...its a mixed bottomfeeder salad
Lady Brett: all your responses are being spat out in thow you are vomiting them all over this here AIM
Lady Brett: thow?
Lady Brett: what the hell is wrong with me?

Thursday, June 17, 2004

My name is Leslie Anne Levine.
My mother birthed me down a dry revine.
My mother birthed me far too soon-
born at nine and dead at noon.

I'm going to see The Decembrists tonight at the Echo Lounge, whose album "Castaways and Cutouts" starts with those lyrics.
So you see why I would like them.

Plus they use words like "paraphet."


Wednesday, June 16, 2004

I was thinking about writing something but I think I shall instead strap myself to the roof and rage at the heavens.

With it being tornado season and all.

Sunday, June 13, 2004

This whole not being at the lake thing makes me feel like Macauley Culkin in Home Alone except instead of ourwitting a pair of bumbling theives I am posting on Livejournal.

cue the sound of one noisemaker.

I bet that in purgatory the primary currency is context.

It is, yes, raining, and that's all the music around here for the last hour. I am wearing no makeup, wearing glasses and listening to weather. I need a cigarette and the pack I got for my birthday is running low, I need an explanation folded into the surgeon general's ramblings, I need control of the on and off and the flat dim on which I'm stuck until further notice.
It's not the way this weekend was told, yeah birthdays mean something I know they don't but I was hoping could we just pretend for just a godamn minute.
Something managed to cut through the layers of sarcasm and general detatchment and my fucking feelings were hurt yeah happy birthday to those.
I want to show from crazy, my head wraps around and around and can't latch on to how I am the so possibly insane oh thats just her yeah its wierd one and how I see things worth a shot at salvage even though previous ventures left me bruised and bleeding in public. And this we call crazy yeah.
While this such complete disregard for the only godamn person still trying is so what to expect, oh yeah it's just like that.

I don't want a relationship, not from any of you already bored with her and her and her. I don't even want the empty sex you treat like a motherfucking higher calling. I just wanted the decency that friends afford one another, to just put it first sometimes it doesn't even have to show we hide from image and normal with the best of them. Do I have to pretend a friendship with us also, are we really so subcategorized into that?
Acting as messanger conjured a strange voice, distant and simpering. That business tone reserved for recently filed folders. My reply remained amused because I never stay in order or in the drawer, and one day he'll find me camping on a different synapse smack in the middle of some modest mouse lyrics.

Jesus every damn time I start crying I write something like this self-riteous passive aggresive diatribe attempting to justify what is essentially an emotion. Oh god. She showed one look. No right there between overextended metaphors. Tally ho!

Fuck it. Jenn and I are going to hit an all time low over whatever they pass for food at elmyr. We will ask the Shins crowd if they are ready to sort of rock, with wilting index and pinkie filter approving the safety of the chord progressions. Collectively they seem about as hard core as an electric toothbrush.

And I do not I repeat DO NOT want to see a cluster of errant hipster clusterfucks late to the show dressed like an excetionally well-dressed gang of rogue dance fighters. What I mean is lets get out now.

I am too tired to balance talk with action.
Maybe someday I'll go up in arms on the surprise counterdefense, while unprepared you cut your maginot lines into that familar formation and that will end that. But really I wanted to use that maginot lines-as-drug-reference bit and leave, because it leaves them scrambling for context.

Bedtime is beckoning with light trails of slow ballroom round and round.
I bet you don't even recognize me in disguise with glasses, I say to the mysterious so and so...

The ballroom is occupied. Do not disturb.

I think I shall compile my vaguely disjointed short stories together and call it "Failed Attempts At Civilization."

Because who needs a plot, really.

Saturday, June 12, 2004

Last year I fell asleep with rollerskates on to the sweet sounds of monkeypox chatter and general nonsense.
This year malnourished punk boys reproduced on the front porch, as there were more every time I went out the front door. I stayed even though I knew I was making it deliciously uncomfortable and wondered about my real friends. I am not happy with some people, but not anyone here.
It's called general consideration. It's called trying to have a society at face value, having a general sense of what is going on. Hello. Hello?

Lenny's was great. At one point I managed to spill my drink down the inside front of my dress with such skill that the dress was not at all wet. Gusto!
And I think perhaps dancing with Rippy and V+ was the best three minutes of the whole darn thing.

Yep, that and the impromptu biscuit reunion.

Friday, June 11, 2004

Birthday Celebratoyotathon

aka further proof that the population is getting older...

That would be my birthday tonight (friday 6/11) at Lenny's. There will be music and dancing, sometimes occuring at the same time!
And party games like "Get Really Drunk and Fall Over" or "Get Really Drunk and Yell at the DJ" or just the classic "Get Really Drunk."

So yeah it's free from 11-12, for those of yous who absolutely cannot show up between those hours and wouldn't be able to afford the menial admission price (brats), lemme know and I'll put you on what they call a "list." I'll probably be there around 11.

Apparently there are also bands beforehand, but someone else will need to fill in this part because I simply do not know.

And also: someone needs to plan an afterparty, because I sure as hell didn't.

And also also: buy my Toyota, because it is for sale.

That is all.

Thursday, June 10, 2004

Hey, remember when we used to send all those monkeys into space?

Ever wonder whatever happened to all of 'em once NASA started shooting people instead of chimps into the cosmos? I certainly did, so I decided to do a little research and found these unemployed NASA monkeys living and working among us as productive U.S. citizens. Productive poo-flinging U.S. citizens.
Some of the more interesting speci-primates:

After successfully orbiting the earth at least 4 thousand times before crash landing into the South Pole, Bobo became a stunt driver for Sylvester Stallone action blockbusters.

Though his pictures of the earth as viewed from space were often criticized at derivative of earlier views of earth from space, Mr. Bananakins went on to study under Annie Lebowitz and has since shot for such publications as Vanity Fair, Vogue, and Zoobooks.

Many thought that after his successful mid-orbit rendevous with a team of Russian space dogs, Skippers vanished from the face of the earth. These pictures prove otherwise. Apparently his experience with these commie canines took quite a toll on poor Skippers, as he is now living as a hired assasin in Minsk.

As sad as that last tale was, not all NASA monkeys can boast a lucrative passtime (illegal or otherwise). Here we see former Lt. Happypants at his most manic- jumping out of a mini-fridge and throwing Capri Sun juiceboxes at the handicapped.

Still other monkeys have given up on finding work all together. Once able to handle Commodore 64's better than most humans, Peanutbuddy now spends most of his day thumbing through phone books looking to crank call employed human astronauts. A bitter state for the once such good-natured Peanutbuddy.

And then of course there's the all-too common story of Sir Jumpsaround ("Jumpers" Mission Control later promoted to science officer). Though this picture shows a seemingly happy Jumpers, he was later spat out of the bottom of the gay porn industry.

Of course this is just the tip of the iceberg: there are hundreds of other monkeys out there with a story or two for you. Stories that go to show what you can accomplish with just a banana and a dream. (if you are a monkey.)

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

If anyone is in the mood to see an extreme lack of talent masquerading as barely an act, the Suicidegirls are playing tonight at Echo Lounge.

Monday, June 07, 2004

my friend says this is an actual fox news transcript. i hope to god he is right.

Sometimes a moment calls for silence. And the only response is silence. You see Nancy Reagan there, standing in silence. This is one of those times when silence is called upon. We are going to let the images speak for themselves with silence. . . [Silence]. . . [Silence] . . . You are watching continuing coverage here on Fox. As we bid farewell to President Ronald Reagan. . . a somber scene, felt in the silence.

I am drinking a cognac highball.
And we don't even have a conservatory! How's that for playing with fire?

My birthday celebratoyotathon is Friday night at Lennys. In lieu of a pinata I'm just going to give participants a stick and let them hit a hipster until drugs fall out.

The only way I want to sleep right now is watching your attempts at awake.

I am now going to read blogs linked on the Lick website until that sex drive so often documented on bathroom walls returns. Or smoke a cigarette, if the alledgedly rabid racoon has vacated the backyard. It has fangs and maybe a revolver.

Funny to think ennui could have auxillary characters like this.

Sunday, June 06, 2004

ashley: is she rich?
me: yeah, occasionally throws her money on the floor and rolls around in it.
ashley: i do the same thing with pretzels.

Saturday, June 05, 2004

It's only a matter of time, kiddo.

Well, Reagan's death led me to wonder whether or not Gerald Ford was still alive.(yes)
Which led me to wonder what the Nelson twins of the band Nelson were up to.
Which led me to this:

Which may very well be the high point of my day.

For the second weekend in a row I got kicked off or "asked to leave" rather, a roof in the Atlanta metro area.
Now it is my goal to get kicked out of a different roof every weekend.
I will be the crazy roof bandit- illegally enjoying views and throwing caution to the wind and trying not to throw my expensive camera into that same wind. Because it's a pretty far drop for a camera.

I would now like to begin the portion of my life where I move in with Michael Stipe and spend all my time writing lyrics and making up dances.
And there would be sandwiches, too.

Friday, June 04, 2004

In The Year 2000 (from conan)

"Sales of Hersheys kisses will plummet when the kisses start slipping people some tongue."

"Ruben Studdard will announce that in order to lose weight he has gotten his stomach stapled. Unfortunately the staples are made of pure Canadian bacon."

"An English major will break up with her boyfriend. She will make him feel better by assuring him, 'It's not you, it's I.'"

"Federal investigators will bust into Barry Bonds' house. Just as the slugger is opening a bottle of steroids. Bonds will evade arrest however, by tossing the bottle a thousand miles into space."

"Adidas will make a $250 sneaker equipped with a computer. The sneaker will be so smart it will make fun of you for wasting $250 on a sneaker."

"Men everywhere will find it easier to quit smoking when the nicotine patch is replaced by the far more effective nicotine hooker."

"Historians will discover Julius Ceaser's last words were not 'et tu Brute' but rather 'Not in the crotch! Not in the crotch!'"

"Twenty years after the series ended, the Friends cast will reunite for a special reunion show- everyone will participate except Mexican dictator, Matt LeBlanc."

"Even gays will object to gay marriage when James Lipton marries Ice-T simply to become James Lipton Ice-T."

"Batman will admit that he's gay. Clay Aiken will admit that he's Batman."

"After being convicted, Michael Jackson escapes from prison disguised as a black man who likes grownups."

"Parents will no longer let their kids watch SpongeBob SquarePants, when it's revealed that SpongeBob once worked as a female contraceptive."

"Major-league baseball will finally crack down on steroids, Barry Bonds will again lead the Majors in homeruns with 3."

"After being criticized for killing hundreds of semi-domesticated pheasants on their last hunting trip, Dick Chaney and Antonin Scalia will take up fishing. Their first grenade kills 300 fish."

Clay Aiken will clear up all the uncertainty about his sexual preference when he releases his next album, 'I'm Aiken for Men.'"

"In an effort to appear more youthful and smooth faced, John Kerry will announce his running mate - Clint Eastwood."

"President Bush will throw out the first pitch at the St. Louis Cardinals opening game. Bush will then pitch the rest of the game, when he insists that replacing him now would send the wrong message to our enemies."

"Police will accuse Woody Allen of being a mass murderer, and adding insult to injury, they will tell him they prefer his earlier, funnier, murderers. "

"A law will be passed allowing women to kill one ex-boyfriend with no consequences. Longhaired base-players named Steve will be wiped off the face of the earth."

"Michael Jackson dies and leaves his body to science; specifically, to an all boys 7th grade science class."

"The WB will air a hip hop version of the Bachelorette; it will be called, 'The Beotchelorette'."

"With the release of Mel Gibson's 'The Passion of the Christ' the suffering of Jesus will finally be seen the way God intended, in air-conditioned comfort with nachos and a cherry coke."

"Birds will admit that the only reason they fly to warmer climates in the winter is to follow Jimmy Buffet."

"Ruben Stutter will lose 200 pounds when he misplaces his 200 pound bag of bacon."

"Sales of Rice Krispies will plummet when 'Snap,' 'Crackle,' and 'Pop' are replaced by 'Pimp,' 'Hoe,' and 'Skanky'."

"Gay men will not be allowed to marry each other, but will still be welcome to marry Liza Minelli."

"The New York Yankees will win the World Series, but they will be disguised as Houston Astros."

"Pete Rose goes on national television to admit for the first time that he bet on the Reds. Not the Cincinnati Reds, he bet that the Soviets would win the Cold War."

"Taking a cue from George Foreman, Al Sharpton will develop his own grill that actually shames and bullies the food into getting more brown."

"Coffee producers will no longer advertise that their coffee beans are hand-picked by Juan Valdez when it's discovered that Juan also hand-picks his recurring cold sore."

"Americans will be enthralled when 'Survivor' joins forces with 'The Apprentice' and 16 people see how long they can look at Donald Trump's haircut without laughing."

"Kids with gay parents will get their first classic children's book when Dr.Seuss' 'Hop on Pop' is updated and retitled 'Chad on Dad.'"

"The owner of 'Hooters' will open a far less successful restaurant, 'Saggers'."

"J. Lo will get over the big J Blow, and she'll J grow. But she'll J know, it's best to J go with the J flow, she'll get a new J Glow, and put on a new J show, but America won't J give a rat's ass."

"On the VMA awards Britney Spears and Madonna again imitate lesbians- this time not by kissing, but by fixing the transmission on a Chevy pick up."

"The cast of 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy' will change its name from the 'Fab Five' back to their original name, 'N Sync.'"

"The Chicago Cubs and Boston Red Sox will meet in the World Series up in the bleachers where they'll have a great view of the Yankees and Braves."

"The recording artist once named Pink will be called 'Beige' when people realize that that's the color you get when you mix her name with the crap she records."

"Thanks to advances in automation, Nike shoes will be made by robots. Unfortunately, the robots will be made by children in Malaysia."

"We will at last have definitive proof that Jesus is the Son of God when Jesus borrows and wrecks God's Chevy Cavalier."

"A man with a bulge in his crotch will be asked by his girlfriend if he has a banana in his pocket or if he's just happy to see her. In fact, he will both be happy to see her and have a banana in his pocket. From that point on, men with bulges will be asked "Is that a banana in your pocket and/or are you happy to see me?""

"Ancient scrolls will reveal that Noah originally planned on bringing three of each species on his ark; not to save them from the flood but just to see if any of the animals were into that kind of thing."

"Anna Nicole Smith will team up with the makers of Altoids Mints to introduce their newest flavor, Winter Bacon."

"Freedom fries and freedom toast go back to being French fries and French toast when oil is discovered just outside Paris."

"After Celine Dion begins a 3 year contract show in Las Vegas, the U.S. government announces that it plans on resuming nuclear testing in Nevada."

"The legend of Johnny Appleseed will be tarnished, when it is revealed that he only planted apple trees to hide his marijuana crop."

"Violence in the music business will reach a new peak, when rapper 50 cent is cut into quarters."

"Michael Moore will protest the war in Iraq by going on a hunger strike. No one will notice for the first fifteen years."

"Corn on the cob will be viciously mugged by corn on the crack pipe."

"When it is discovered that it takes exactly 437 licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, it will be announced that science is officially over."

"A black man will be elected President of the United States. I'm sorry, that's in the year 10,000."

"Terrorism experts will reveal that dirty bombs are just regular bombs that just enjoy sleeping with high school chicks."

"Robots will do all of our dull, repetetive tasks like washing dishes and marrying J Lo."

"Louis Anderson publicly converts to atheism when for the third day in a row his bag of Cheetos gets stuck on a vending machine."

"The answer to the question 'is there life after death' will finally be answered when the corpse of Winston Churchill holds a press conference and says 'no'."

"Sales of Izod shirts will decline dramatically, when it is revealed the alligator has a small child in it's mouth."

"The French Riviera will be completely abandoned after its name is changed to The Geraldo Riviera."

"The New York Knicks and N' Sync will sue each other, each claiming it was their idea to be five guys who suck."

"In an effort to make it more exciting, Daylight Savings Time will be renamed Daylight Awesome Time."

"The Lord Almighty will descend from the heavens to inform the world of the eleventh commandment. 'Thou shalt stop acting like a jerk and return my Hives cd Barry'."

"Babies will reveal that goo goo and ga ga will is actually baby speak for 'I love the films of Dolph Lundgren'."

"For the first time in our nation's history African-Americans will ask to be called 'Africans' in an effort to completely distance themselves from the show 'American Idol'."

"Hundreds of teens will turn gay after they try to imitate scenes from 'Jackass' the musical."

"Thousands of senior citizens touring New England this fall will be shot when the autumn leaves refuse to change colors, but instead stand by the side of the road and make farting noises."

"Rather than waste time with an office visit, Christina Aguilera will send her gynecologist a copy of her latest video."

"Pope John Paul II will finally allow priests to get married, but only to him."

"On the final episode of Late Night with Conan O' Brien, Conan will pull off his toupeƩ completely shocking his viewer."

"Justin Timberlake and American Idol's Justin Guarini will join forces on a hit single entitled 'Just Intolerable'."

"Liza Minelli and her husband will indeed adopt a baby, however people will begin assuming it is their biological child when the baby begins popping tranquilizers in gay bars."

"After getting engaged, P Diddy will try to protect his fortune by getting his fianceƩ to sign a pre-nuptial agreement, or 'pre-nup'. This ordinary legal transaction will from then on always be known as a 'p re-nup iddy'."

"Players will play, but umpires will strike leaving baseball games up to the honor system. While cheating rampantly, the Mets will still lose 100 games."

"Bandits will attack Queen Elizabeth. To save her life she will have to call on the knights sworn to defend her-Elton John, Mick Jagger and Paul McCartney."

"After their recent appearance on the MTV Video Music Awards, Guns 'n Roses will be forced to change their name to 'Chubby McGoo and the guys who aren't Slash'."

"Due to the success of the 'Anna Nicole Smith' show, the E! network creates a similar program starring a bloated body found in the east river."

"Every one in the world will suddenly turn into roast beef sandwiches. All the trees and buildings will turn into cakes and cookies. Then, Pavarotti will wake up."

"A charter plane carrying a soccer team will crash in the Andes, and even though there is plenty of food available, the survivors will resort to cannibalism to stay on the Atkins diet."

"God will announce that he will at last reveal himself to mankind at a huge stadium show in New Jersey. Unfortunately, everyone leaves during God's opening act, John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown band."

"Clouds will not simply retain water but also bitch at their boyfriends."

"The congressional channel C-SPAN will be bought out by The Playboy Channel. From then on all floor debates will consist of senators playfully spraying each other as they wash a Corvette."

"Yassar Arafat is forced back into his compound. This time because he won't stop singing Pink's Get This Party Started."

"In an effort to be more appealing the flu will change it's name to 'THe Flumeister'."

" Huey Lewis and the News will form a Huey Lewis and the News tribute band, just to prove that someone might actually do that."

"Tony Danza will refuse to play any more characters named 'Tony.' The first role he gets after making this announcement: a bartender named 'Doug Danza.'"

"Animal experts will discover that the reason mountain goats live in the mountains is that they can get drunk faster."

"Already reeling from the ongoing sex scandal, the Catholic Church will lose millions more followers, when Pope John Paul II appears on his balcony wearing acid-washed jeans."

"The expression 'time will tell' will be proven invalid, when time refuses to tell what happened after it walked Debbie home from that party."

"Mr. T has a son that he names after himself. To avoid confusion the boy is known as Mr. Lowercase T."

"Michael Jackson's son, Prince Michael II will write a memoir in which he wistfully recalls that one glorious moment on the balcony when he nearly escaped."

"Christian fundamentalists will briefly reconsider their views on homosexuality when they find a bunch of misprinted bibles, that actually do say 'Adam and Steve.'"

"UN weapons inspectors in Iraq will make a most horrific discovery beneath one of Saddam's palaces. Master tapes for a new Spin Doctors album."

"The world will bid a fond farewell to one of its favorite and most beloved entertainers when Bill Maher gets drunk at a party, gets behind the wheel of his car, and runs over Angela Lansbury."

"We will finally learn what makes French vanilla ice cream different from regular vanilla ice cream- cowardice."

"Chemists will discover what makes simple sugars simple. Their parents were brother and sister."

"People will automatically smile for pictures when photographers develop a flash that emits not only a sudden burst of light, but also the sound of Barbra Streisand being mauled by a bear."

"The American bald eagle will try to make up for it's baldness by buying a Porsche, and offering female eagles cocaine."

"Tonya Harding will square off against her toughest opponent yet- a book."

"Instead of saying 'thank you' the polite response to the comment 'you have something stuck on your tooth' will be 'I can't believe I ate all those old people.'"

"After watching the riveting new Jodie Foster film, upper-middle class families across the nation will build panic rooms. Those in the lower-middle class will have to settle for spaz cabinets."

"'Sesame Street's' Bert and Ernie will continue to deny that they have a romantic relationship; but will admit that one night after one too many beers they did bump felt a little."

"Halle Berry will break down yet another cultural barrier when she becomes the first African-American woman to buy a Gordon Lightfoot album."

"The Israelis and the Palestinians will finally stop fighting when they realize they both find Louie Anderson slightly depressing."

"It will be discovered that chicken soup does not stop colds, except for colds in the chickens that were brutally slaughtered to make the soup."

"After Keith Richards goes to a dermatologist because of a strange fuzz growing on his face, it will be determined that a Rolling Stone can indeed gather moss."

"In an inspiring interview Madonna will reveal how by dedicating ourselves to motherhood, meditation and spirituality we can all one day appear in an ad campaign for 'The Gap.'"

"Cookie lovers all over the world will be horrified when Oreo reveals that the stuff in their doublestuft oreos is a substance scraped off of Mickey Rourke."

"Marijuana will still be illegal except for medicinal purposes. However medicinal purposes will be expanded to include getting wasted in hospital parking lots."

relaunch! relaunch!

It's always nice when your boss starts a meeting: "So what were you going to be doing this weekend?" The unsaid portion being "because now you're working."

In other words, I'm working this weekend. Keep in mind that I have already worked 40+ hours this week.

I hate you all.

I am eating cheese with dill in it and at first you think "oh my god this is delicious I like cheese and dill and the combination is unstoppable!"
But then the sheer cheesidillness becomes overwhelming. You immediately crave sweets for the counteraction. And frankly, you wish you hadn't taken that last bite.

It's a classic tale of food combinations going horribly horribly wrong.

I've been living a hard core day to day recently.
Wake up, shower, get to work on time, do required work, eat fair and balanced nutrition throughout the day, go to the gym, clean the house, watch television, get to bed at a decent hour...with the occasional cigarette and schwinn thrown in. I've felt both flattened and blissfully normal, and my life in general is no worse for it. Luckily I enjoy sleep.
I feel my blog has been suffering though. I think I was more fun blogging from another planet.
Oh well. Too bad for you.

(Maybe you'll get some fun treats on the weekends.)

Thursday, June 03, 2004

As slightly altered from Jal's livejournal post:
Curb Your Enthusiasm is an awesome show and here is further proof why.

From a recent e-mail chain:

kevin wrote:
I've got a Palm V that I never use anymore. Getting rid of it.
Make me an offer and it's yours.

jeff wrote:
I have the original commodore 64 address book software and quick sync for
the palm pilot. I'll pass it along to whoever pays hard earned cash for that
thing kevin found in the bottom of his file cabinet while cleaning out his

I want candy
bubblegum and taffy
Skip to the sweet shop with my sweetheart Sandy
Got my pennies saved so I'm a sugar daddy
I'm her Hume Cronyn
she my Jessica Tandy
I want candy
I need candy
bubble gum and taffy
Gonna get your ass beat nasty
Do it so your dad sees
embarrass your whole family
Just cuz you came between a kid and his candy
I need candy
any kind will do
Don't care if it's nutritious or FDA approved
It's gonna make me spaz like bobcats on booze
A hyperactive juice that only I can produce
To fuel a giant drill to bore straight into hell
Releasing ancient demons from their sleep-forever spell
So they can walk upon the earth and get resituated
And hawk the diet pills MC Pee Pants has created
Mess up the mix, mix up the mess
Come on down, yo here's the address
612 wharf avenue

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Today was full of puppies and cupcakes, and I just want to eat pizza and watch my new MST3K dvds.
And also, I acquired one porcelien horse figurine from my friend's cabbagetown trash. Of givingness.

Trumpy, you can do stupid things!

Tuesday, June 01, 2004

Anyone need a car? I am selling one light blue beautiful 1991 Toyota Corolla. Nothing wrong with it, I'm just getting a newer car and have no need to be one of those fancy two-car people.
I don't have a definite price yet but it ain't gonna be a whole hell of a lot because it's kinda old. But runs like a dream!
Lemme know.

This begs one to question whether the cold hard steel of death also has a tender side...