I love so many things.
One of my favorite things ever is kids.
i have spent nearly a decade taking care of other peoples kids and thats ok because I can't really afford my own.
Kids are so funny and magical it makes me feel squishy inside.
I also love Hasids.
I don't love when they take the one empty seat on the subway instead of offering it to a lady.
I don't love it when they ask me weird questions like "why do you die your hair?" or "how do you know you're not Jewish?"
Typically right after that, they give me the sex eye and I get scared and want to run far far away.
Aside from that, they are pretty fucking lovable.
Faith is a fantastic thing, even if it is a bit blind.
I still think its the cats pajamas.
Where is this going?
I know you want to know but if you really care you will watch the video at the end of the nonsense.
OK I also love musicians.
I took cello lessons a few years ago and I would sit in my room just holding it. Oh strings, you do to my ears what the angels voice does to the damned.
Its fantastic to try to make music, its fantastic to listen to music, it is MOST fantastic to be around music without production tinkering because its super honest and uplifting.
And jamming out is basically the best little gift in the universe, its free and beautiful and uplifting.
Why do you think the goddamned hippies sit around doing it all day?
Well its also the pot, but they like the joy involved in the creation of rhythmic sound.
That being said, I might kidnap this Hasid toddler keyboard playing moppet:
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
He looks pregnant in a sexy way though
I have been feeling super uninspired to blog so I sort of feel like I'm doing laundry or something. You can only go so many days before you have to wash your jeans or make humorous commentary about your activities.
I have been complaining a lot about the same shit. Mostly that I'm drinking too much and I am totally over being single.
I think the saddest part is, drunk girls are NOT attractive. They are loud and confusing and sometimes floozies.
I honestly don't think blogs are the place for an exploration of the deep deep dark stinky self, so instead of bitching I would rather talk about things I have been up to.
Thursday I drank some beer and youtube video traded with Andy. He sent me this horrible shit about how swords are dangerous, and yes, sometimes they kill asians. I felt like I was watching trailer trash nazi propoganda leftovers.
The guy in the video, I can garauntee he eats Hungry Man every single night.
And he does it old school, no microwave, it goes in a filthy oven with holes poked in the plastic. Ugh. I fear other people in ways I can't tell.
After that I forced myself out of bed to go to Mr. Alger's gallery showing waaaaaay over on the west side.
When will there be a train that goes further west than 8th? Ever? For the love of god it is a TREK.
I spent 40 minutes getting over there and had to pee the whole time. It was absolute torture.
But it was nice when I got there, everything looked really lovely, I was proud.
Sometimes I love gallery thingies because there are always super insane people walking around in just the right element.
Like the 70 year old man with the weird glasses and the mooseknuckle ball grab pants. He always has annoying items attached to his lapel, or is using some kind of walking stick, or shows up eating something you don't really eat in public, like some kind of fritter or a complicated fruit.
There was a hot bald Scottish guy there wearing a kilt. I obviously had to ask him what was under it and he said these magical words, "On a good night, honey....just lipstick."
Ummmm. awesome? I'd get on tappa theat.
I chatted lots with Staten Island Frank about how great Luther Vandross is and then I cut out of there and went home to see Sam and buddy up with my roommate and his friend Scott.
Good times.
Scott asks my advice about girls and I am the last person you should ever ask about anything. Not only am I totally full of shit, but I have no idea what actual girls are like. I don't follow the girl rules because they are a complex smattering of nonsense.
We took some pictures praying to god and I somehow ended up with black spray paint all over my wall.
Nightmare.
I then waited patiently all through Friday and Saturday for Burrito Party at Kaitlins.
I like to arrive places early because I am an anxious nerd.
Corrine Sterp and I "helped" my cutting things up and stirring things and I more or less diced one pepper then walked around with a vodka soda getting in the way.
I brought glazed donuts.
Nonsensical. Yet delish.
Lots of good people, chatty chat chat.
Then we all sat around with gluttonous piles of ingredient atop little wraps. Glory.
The only words said were, "I cannot close my burrito" and "this is the best burrito of all time"
Nothing else.
Seriously though, I do think my burrito was the best of all time.
Nonfiction.
Kaitlin is a really amazing hostess and everything was pretty and perfect and yummy.
Except the weird smell dish which had garlic and change in it.
I think that was a mistake.
Look I am in a delicious dish induced coma.
I revealed to Louie and Ambular that yes they do in fact hold the best couple title for being attractive and being good at telling tales together.
Then I wanted to throw up because Louie started telling stories about cute children and Ambular got twinkly eyed and told me the romantic origins of how they met and I wanted to tell them they will fail in love just like the rest of us.
Just kidding.
Not really.
But they are cute. The End.
Sterp got very drunk and that is very funny to me lately because shes not really the type. She sort of turns into a Krissyesque drunk by saying rude things that make people uncomfortable. Then she just stares at you.
We had a fantastic discussion at one point about how sortof fat guys are totally hot.
Sortof fat guys have gut protrusion and love handles. They do not call them love handles for nothing.
They are not so fat that you see them as comical, but they are not so thin that you see them as little faggers.
Perfection.
I talked to Corrine and Dballs forever about I don't know what.
The important things are as follows:
1. Corrine invented a word that is perfect to say in the Katherine Hepburn old lady shake voice. It is a combination of owl and pineapple.
Say it out loud now:
Pineowple.
Very good Corrine, very good.
on another note, Corrine is gay.
2. I gave Dballs a new name which I don't know if I like yet. Dballs is not funny anymore so it has to be changed to TBones. But Tbones sounds like TBoz and there is absolutely nothing funny about that.
3. We discussed my excellent tarot card reader, Miss Flo Higgins, and I think there will have to be a trip to Jersey so we can all go talk to her and watch her run her uncomfortably long fingernails through her silvery hair.
Yessss.
All of the girls at Kaitlins were wearing pretty dresses and I have to say the 5 whole boys that were there were very lucky. I lied maybe there were 10 boys at one point.
Speaking of boys, I think I realized I was drinking too much when I told Farmer that we have the exact same boots but neither of us were wearing them, and I didn't wear MINE because I hated the idea of matching him.
Why. Do. I. Talk. At. All.
I have been saying it a lot lately, sometimes you just find yourself acting SO WEIRD around people and then you walk away and you're like, what in holy hell was I just saying?
Another case.
I spent the whole night addressing Kaitlins sister as "Small Kaitlin"
That is weird and not ok.
It is very stupid and probably annoying for her.
I would like to say the most important thing on my mind right now it not burritos. Or small kaitlins. or pineowples.
But that I really miss someone right now and it makes me feel like talking about fun things is a little bitty white lie.
Someone put a pacie in my mouth and rock me to sleepies.
I have been complaining a lot about the same shit. Mostly that I'm drinking too much and I am totally over being single.
I think the saddest part is, drunk girls are NOT attractive. They are loud and confusing and sometimes floozies.
I honestly don't think blogs are the place for an exploration of the deep deep dark stinky self, so instead of bitching I would rather talk about things I have been up to.
Thursday I drank some beer and youtube video traded with Andy. He sent me this horrible shit about how swords are dangerous, and yes, sometimes they kill asians. I felt like I was watching trailer trash nazi propoganda leftovers.
The guy in the video, I can garauntee he eats Hungry Man every single night.
And he does it old school, no microwave, it goes in a filthy oven with holes poked in the plastic. Ugh. I fear other people in ways I can't tell.
After that I forced myself out of bed to go to Mr. Alger's gallery showing waaaaaay over on the west side.
When will there be a train that goes further west than 8th? Ever? For the love of god it is a TREK.
I spent 40 minutes getting over there and had to pee the whole time. It was absolute torture.
But it was nice when I got there, everything looked really lovely, I was proud.
Sometimes I love gallery thingies because there are always super insane people walking around in just the right element.
Like the 70 year old man with the weird glasses and the mooseknuckle ball grab pants. He always has annoying items attached to his lapel, or is using some kind of walking stick, or shows up eating something you don't really eat in public, like some kind of fritter or a complicated fruit.
There was a hot bald Scottish guy there wearing a kilt. I obviously had to ask him what was under it and he said these magical words, "On a good night, honey....just lipstick."
Ummmm. awesome? I'd get on tappa theat.
I chatted lots with Staten Island Frank about how great Luther Vandross is and then I cut out of there and went home to see Sam and buddy up with my roommate and his friend Scott.
Good times.
Scott asks my advice about girls and I am the last person you should ever ask about anything. Not only am I totally full of shit, but I have no idea what actual girls are like. I don't follow the girl rules because they are a complex smattering of nonsense.
We took some pictures praying to god and I somehow ended up with black spray paint all over my wall.
Nightmare.
I then waited patiently all through Friday and Saturday for Burrito Party at Kaitlins.
I like to arrive places early because I am an anxious nerd.
Corrine Sterp and I "helped" my cutting things up and stirring things and I more or less diced one pepper then walked around with a vodka soda getting in the way.
I brought glazed donuts.
Nonsensical. Yet delish.
Lots of good people, chatty chat chat.
Then we all sat around with gluttonous piles of ingredient atop little wraps. Glory.
The only words said were, "I cannot close my burrito" and "this is the best burrito of all time"
Nothing else.
Seriously though, I do think my burrito was the best of all time.
Nonfiction.
Kaitlin is a really amazing hostess and everything was pretty and perfect and yummy.
Except the weird smell dish which had garlic and change in it.
I think that was a mistake.
Look I am in a delicious dish induced coma.
I revealed to Louie and Ambular that yes they do in fact hold the best couple title for being attractive and being good at telling tales together.
Then I wanted to throw up because Louie started telling stories about cute children and Ambular got twinkly eyed and told me the romantic origins of how they met and I wanted to tell them they will fail in love just like the rest of us.
Just kidding.
Not really.
But they are cute. The End.
Sterp got very drunk and that is very funny to me lately because shes not really the type. She sort of turns into a Krissyesque drunk by saying rude things that make people uncomfortable. Then she just stares at you.
We had a fantastic discussion at one point about how sortof fat guys are totally hot.
Sortof fat guys have gut protrusion and love handles. They do not call them love handles for nothing.
They are not so fat that you see them as comical, but they are not so thin that you see them as little faggers.
Perfection.
I talked to Corrine and Dballs forever about I don't know what.
The important things are as follows:
1. Corrine invented a word that is perfect to say in the Katherine Hepburn old lady shake voice. It is a combination of owl and pineapple.
Say it out loud now:
Pineowple.
Very good Corrine, very good.
on another note, Corrine is gay.
2. I gave Dballs a new name which I don't know if I like yet. Dballs is not funny anymore so it has to be changed to TBones. But Tbones sounds like TBoz and there is absolutely nothing funny about that.
3. We discussed my excellent tarot card reader, Miss Flo Higgins, and I think there will have to be a trip to Jersey so we can all go talk to her and watch her run her uncomfortably long fingernails through her silvery hair.
Yessss.
All of the girls at Kaitlins were wearing pretty dresses and I have to say the 5 whole boys that were there were very lucky. I lied maybe there were 10 boys at one point.
Speaking of boys, I think I realized I was drinking too much when I told Farmer that we have the exact same boots but neither of us were wearing them, and I didn't wear MINE because I hated the idea of matching him.
Why. Do. I. Talk. At. All.
I have been saying it a lot lately, sometimes you just find yourself acting SO WEIRD around people and then you walk away and you're like, what in holy hell was I just saying?
Another case.
I spent the whole night addressing Kaitlins sister as "Small Kaitlin"
That is weird and not ok.
It is very stupid and probably annoying for her.
I would like to say the most important thing on my mind right now it not burritos. Or small kaitlins. or pineowples.
But that I really miss someone right now and it makes me feel like talking about fun things is a little bitty white lie.
Someone put a pacie in my mouth and rock me to sleepies.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Maybe if it had been Uncle Joey.
Piles of money?
Check.
Money to tape together and wrap up the piles of money?
Check.
Money to shred and use a papier mache to make giant replicas of oneself?
Obvs check.
Dignity?
...............
As I JUUUST got finished saying how i don't even like Sweet Paradise, I read on a gossip site called mollygood.com, that the Olsen twins were there on Sunday.
Lower East Side pub crawlers, who tend to hop from bar to bar on skateboard, were a little surprised to see two black Escalades roll up to Orchard Street dive bar Sweet Paradise at 2 a.m. Sunday. Passing up standard hot spots, Mary-Kate Olsen and her posse slummed it up with some die-hard hipsters.
Ok, that little peice of shit text just made me want to throw up my soul.
I'm gonna be honest.
I'm not sure I care, but part of me wants to get all protective Chinatown and be like, "Ewwwwww no they di'int, they need to take their Hollywood baby Michelle I want some ouwse cream asses back to wherever the rich people drink."
Then I realized something really sad.
Which is that downtown New York is absolutely crawling with rich kids feining struggle and normalcy.
I'm not even going to delve into that topic because my brain will fall out of my skull and I don;t have time to do that kind of clean up.
The Olsens just happen to have EARNED the money that made them so god damn rich.
The rich kids I know (who try to hide being rich typically) never lifted a finger to get that paper, nevermind work EVERY DAY since they were 16 months old.
No wonder they need coke addled nights in shitty bars, they are ragged!
Not only that but they must be so hungry!
Sometimes I just have beer for dinner, and it makes me not hungry and I think thats what they do, only they substitute beer with speed and glasses of room temperature lemon water.
NIGHTMARE.
Anyway.
Who I am to be like Hey go back to where you belong?
Cause last time I checked, I'm from a nice little town on the Jersey shore.
I would imagine plenty of New York folk want to tell me to bridge and tunnel my suburban ass back there.
And I get all defensive and insecure like HEY I LIVE HERE NOW OK? I PAY RENT I TAKE THE F TRAIN I DONT GO TO TIMES SQUARE I EAT ETHNIC FOODS TAKE THAT.
That is how edgy people are about their turf.
Its instant fear about being an insider vs being an outsider.
Imagine how these stupid famous people feel?
Sure, they get whatever they want, but they have to deal with assholes like me blogging about them cause they had the audacity to show up to a bar 4 blocks from my building.
Conclusion:
A) no one "belongs" anywhere and there are probably better things to rant about.
Especially when its over a bar that smells like death and feels like a college drop out basement.
B) I am obviously bitter about rich kids.
C) its too early for this shit.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Longest Blarg.
I've spent the last week not blogging and acting like an alkie.
Its sad in some ways, but totally not because I got to spend a lot of time with my friends and I have the best ones in the world.
That was a cheese sandwich with a side of cheese dipped in cheese fondue.
Monday was St Patricks Day and I went to the parade and it was cold and loud and awesome because I love being Irish. I talk about it regularly.
Oh, didn't you know, its ok for me to be a total piece of shit, I'm just Irish. And when I say racist things I can just blame that on being German.
The weird thing about that is, we all know I love me some Jews. One day I will snatch myself up a good Jewish doctor and make his mother cry. Whoops.
Oh and I also love black people.
And gypsies.
Sidetracked!
So St Patricks Day I was a bad little leprechaun and drank non-irish beers and Petron and made curry chicken for dinner.
Everyone knows a good Colleen never flavors her food!
The only flavoring Irish people use is salt and butter.
So much butter.
The way we put butter on bread, thats called an Irish canolli. Thick!
Me and Dop went to Good World and talked to a couple of boring boys and we wore Mexican clothes.
Why?
Because its fun.
And because she is obsessed with the Mexis.
Such a hot little gringa!
Well actually before we went it was photoshoot! time.
Don't lie you all do it too.
The Janice DICKenson.
get sexy in the crack corner.
The Jimmy Crack Corner.
sister sister.
Then when we got home I was shittah and Ames the superstar roommate from heaven was trying to lay low chilled out in the kitchen.
So sors Ames, but things are about to get absurd.
First I pretended to not be a jerk.
Then I did this.
He likes my jokes.
Friends!
Wednesday I dropped into Sweet Paradise to see my brother Gary and to finally meet his girlfriend who is an absolute doll of a human. Ugh. I love couples so much right now.
Gary and Olympia and Louie and Amber tie for the greatest couple award.
I'm so jealz.
I kindve will always hate Sweet Paradise. It smells weird and I don't like candy.
But seeing Scott and Gary and Krista and Frank on the 1s and 2s is fun.
I ran my stupid mouth at the bar all night and had the worst day at work to follow.
Dummy.
I tested the flash on my new camera phone.
It failed.
Both of the nights described led to the deadly drunk dial.
Oh my god. Someone somewhere figure out a way to stop me. There should be a breathalyzer on my celly.
So I fucked up yet another sitch with a possible snuggle partner by freaking out about dumb shit like "why haven't you decided yet that I'm totally girlf material?!"
Sigh.
What will be will be.
I'm trying to un-bum-out my emotions.
Best thing for that?
Having a party!
I have been thinking over the last couple months its weird that I feel like I've known Bianca for awhile and never really got to KNOW her.
And now that I feel like I am, shes running off in her Subaru Outback to explore the Great Unknown that is the cross country road trip. Boss!
So I threw her a little Bye Bye bash last night.
It was GOOD. If I do say so myself.
I am a shining star of a hostess what with my cocktail glasses and my ample booze supply and my ipod playlist and my "plentya room for dance jam outs" setup.
Steph came over early to sit on the couch and booze up nice and early.
We decided that I should wear a bracelet that say WWYMT.
Like WWJD, only mine means "what would your mom think"
Because thats what i should consider before I say the retarded things I say.
Then Steph noted we could also do WWYBT, or "what would your blog think?"
Fast forward to party time,
I was super scared two things would happen:
1. no one would come. Duh. Classic nauj freak out when you look around at 915 and theres 5 of you standing it the kitchen like "sooooo....." :::look around, swirl your ice in the glass, touch something on the counter like its really interesting to you:::
2. that EVERYONE would come, including police. These things you can never predict.
Thankfully it was the perfect gathering.
Corinne and Feleesh brought chips and salsa, good job listening girls.
Liv and Dballs brought tofu things and guac (AFTER seeing me puke it all up once at a restaurant because I found out I'm allergic)
.jpeg)
Water under the bridge.
Christa brought some cookies that was cute of her.
And Steph made a hilarious cake.
.jpeg)
More importantly, her cakes are always moist. Its dreamy. Dreamily moist. Thats my porn name if I ever get into the biz. Gross.
.jpeg)
Beebs ate some car.
We had lots of margaritas and vodka cocktails. Everyone looked handsome/beautiful but thats because my friends are all big catches.
.jpeg)
Ne'erdowell.
Hi Stephanie, did you get a job as an extra on The Wonder Years?
Yay!
Shaderican looking like a total babe.
Steph said to me today, "We brought Jersey to Chinatown."
Totally trube.
It had the Jersey vibe. Everyone was so happy and so drunk.
.jpeg)
Beebs had a funny cup.
No one stole anything and only three things broke.
.jpeg)
I think Beebs relates to me on the whole housewife tip.
Also my ass looks great!
AND I don't even think there were any drugs!
I love noblow parties because no one turns into a huge asshole and ruins the fun by acting fiendish and creepy.
Shout out to Jiwon and Kaitlin thanks for not coming buttholes. Its ok I understand.
Caspo brought some people I didn't know and it was confusing. But it seems like whatever hes getting into usually carries with it some befuddlement.
Evidence.
The evening got to the crucial point of dance in the dark time, maybe around 12.
Its inevitable that someone turns the kitchen light off and kids get loose. Thats also when your neighbors realize they hate you, more things get broken, and cigarettes start going into your sink.
I totally hate the sink ciggy thing, its absolutely foul.
After dancing time, there is always rapping white people time, which consisted mostly of me, Staten Island Frank, and Male Model Adrian. The combination of us three humans ALONE is hilarious. Seeing us rap Get Money and TROY? Off the scale of douchbaggery. Really.
Bianca gave me lots of kisses and that was nice.
I think I tried to pepaw dance with Denise but it just didn't work very well.
I got to have lots of squishy girl time.
I didn't get hurt and I kept all of my clothes on.
No one threw up or cried.
Seriously.
I played waitress from the back room to the kitchen and the floor is sticky.
Sammy knows just what I like, which is being subservient so she sat on the couch and requested drinks for about 2 hours.
I happily complied.
I have never loved the people in my life as much as I do right now, because the 30 or so folks I spent my night with feel like a gorgeous family.
The End!
*photo cred shouts to Rafael for the party pics! Hes the best.
Its sad in some ways, but totally not because I got to spend a lot of time with my friends and I have the best ones in the world.
That was a cheese sandwich with a side of cheese dipped in cheese fondue.
Monday was St Patricks Day and I went to the parade and it was cold and loud and awesome because I love being Irish. I talk about it regularly.
Oh, didn't you know, its ok for me to be a total piece of shit, I'm just Irish. And when I say racist things I can just blame that on being German.
The weird thing about that is, we all know I love me some Jews. One day I will snatch myself up a good Jewish doctor and make his mother cry. Whoops.
Oh and I also love black people.
And gypsies.
Sidetracked!
So St Patricks Day I was a bad little leprechaun and drank non-irish beers and Petron and made curry chicken for dinner.
Everyone knows a good Colleen never flavors her food!
The only flavoring Irish people use is salt and butter.
So much butter.
The way we put butter on bread, thats called an Irish canolli. Thick!
Me and Dop went to Good World and talked to a couple of boring boys and we wore Mexican clothes.
Why?
Because its fun.
And because she is obsessed with the Mexis.
Such a hot little gringa!
Well actually before we went it was photoshoot! time.
Don't lie you all do it too.
The Janice DICKenson.
get sexy in the crack corner.
The Jimmy Crack Corner.
sister sister.
Then when we got home I was shittah and Ames the superstar roommate from heaven was trying to lay low chilled out in the kitchen.
So sors Ames, but things are about to get absurd.
First I pretended to not be a jerk.
Then I did this.
He likes my jokes.
Friends!
Wednesday I dropped into Sweet Paradise to see my brother Gary and to finally meet his girlfriend who is an absolute doll of a human. Ugh. I love couples so much right now.
Gary and Olympia and Louie and Amber tie for the greatest couple award.
I'm so jealz.
I kindve will always hate Sweet Paradise. It smells weird and I don't like candy.
But seeing Scott and Gary and Krista and Frank on the 1s and 2s is fun.
I ran my stupid mouth at the bar all night and had the worst day at work to follow.
Dummy.
I tested the flash on my new camera phone.
It failed.
Both of the nights described led to the deadly drunk dial.
Oh my god. Someone somewhere figure out a way to stop me. There should be a breathalyzer on my celly.
So I fucked up yet another sitch with a possible snuggle partner by freaking out about dumb shit like "why haven't you decided yet that I'm totally girlf material?!"
Sigh.
What will be will be.
I'm trying to un-bum-out my emotions.
Best thing for that?
Having a party!
I have been thinking over the last couple months its weird that I feel like I've known Bianca for awhile and never really got to KNOW her.
And now that I feel like I am, shes running off in her Subaru Outback to explore the Great Unknown that is the cross country road trip. Boss!
So I threw her a little Bye Bye bash last night.
It was GOOD. If I do say so myself.
I am a shining star of a hostess what with my cocktail glasses and my ample booze supply and my ipod playlist and my "plentya room for dance jam outs" setup.
Steph came over early to sit on the couch and booze up nice and early.
We decided that I should wear a bracelet that say WWYMT.
Like WWJD, only mine means "what would your mom think"
Because thats what i should consider before I say the retarded things I say.
Then Steph noted we could also do WWYBT, or "what would your blog think?"
Fast forward to party time,
I was super scared two things would happen:
1. no one would come. Duh. Classic nauj freak out when you look around at 915 and theres 5 of you standing it the kitchen like "sooooo....." :::look around, swirl your ice in the glass, touch something on the counter like its really interesting to you:::
2. that EVERYONE would come, including police. These things you can never predict.
Thankfully it was the perfect gathering.
Corinne and Feleesh brought chips and salsa, good job listening girls.
Liv and Dballs brought tofu things and guac (AFTER seeing me puke it all up once at a restaurant because I found out I'm allergic)
.jpeg)
Water under the bridge.
Christa brought some cookies that was cute of her.
And Steph made a hilarious cake.
.jpeg)
More importantly, her cakes are always moist. Its dreamy. Dreamily moist. Thats my porn name if I ever get into the biz. Gross.
.jpeg)
Beebs ate some car.
We had lots of margaritas and vodka cocktails. Everyone looked handsome/beautiful but thats because my friends are all big catches.
.jpeg)
Ne'erdowell.
Hi Stephanie, did you get a job as an extra on The Wonder Years?
Yay!
Shaderican looking like a total babe.
Steph said to me today, "We brought Jersey to Chinatown."
Totally trube.
It had the Jersey vibe. Everyone was so happy and so drunk.
.jpeg)
Beebs had a funny cup.
No one stole anything and only three things broke.
.jpeg)
I think Beebs relates to me on the whole housewife tip.
Also my ass looks great!
AND I don't even think there were any drugs!
I love noblow parties because no one turns into a huge asshole and ruins the fun by acting fiendish and creepy.
Shout out to Jiwon and Kaitlin thanks for not coming buttholes. Its ok I understand.
Caspo brought some people I didn't know and it was confusing. But it seems like whatever hes getting into usually carries with it some befuddlement.
Evidence.
The evening got to the crucial point of dance in the dark time, maybe around 12.
Its inevitable that someone turns the kitchen light off and kids get loose. Thats also when your neighbors realize they hate you, more things get broken, and cigarettes start going into your sink.
I totally hate the sink ciggy thing, its absolutely foul.
After dancing time, there is always rapping white people time, which consisted mostly of me, Staten Island Frank, and Male Model Adrian. The combination of us three humans ALONE is hilarious. Seeing us rap Get Money and TROY? Off the scale of douchbaggery. Really.
Bianca gave me lots of kisses and that was nice.
I think I tried to pepaw dance with Denise but it just didn't work very well.
I got to have lots of squishy girl time.
I didn't get hurt and I kept all of my clothes on.
No one threw up or cried.
Seriously.
I played waitress from the back room to the kitchen and the floor is sticky.
Sammy knows just what I like, which is being subservient so she sat on the couch and requested drinks for about 2 hours.
I happily complied.
I have never loved the people in my life as much as I do right now, because the 30 or so folks I spent my night with feel like a gorgeous family.
The End!
*photo cred shouts to Rafael for the party pics! Hes the best.
Friday, March 14, 2008
its not fun when the hottubs so hot.
So the weirdest thing happened last night.
I got drunk and acted like an idiot.
Today I feel like absolute shit and I don't have my funnyballs strapped on so I will have to discuss Bianca's 25th Birthday Karaoke Extravaganza later.
But for now, know that the gross cab driver who took me and Liv to Brooklyn felt the need to give me his phone number.
Also know that I just tipped the pizza guy in quarters.
Also know that this is sort of a good parallel to how I acted last night.
I got drunk and acted like an idiot.
Today I feel like absolute shit and I don't have my funnyballs strapped on so I will have to discuss Bianca's 25th Birthday Karaoke Extravaganza later.
But for now, know that the gross cab driver who took me and Liv to Brooklyn felt the need to give me his phone number.
Also know that I just tipped the pizza guy in quarters.
Also know that this is sort of a good parallel to how I acted last night.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
lemme smell your hellhole
What perfect cadence.
Perfect sentence.I call that hilariopoetic.
I am an olfactory slut.
I like to smell everything (not everything but close)
New York is a great place for that.
I like to smell food before I eat it. And I like to report to whoever I am with at the moment what I can smell and if I find it pleasant or not.
This is one of my compulsive traits.
Some people hate to be smelled.
But I really like smelling people because it helps you learn whether or not they should be in your pack. (like wolves)
Sometimes you should smell people secretly, like over their shoulder near their neck so they don't think you are Hannibal Lecter.
Some people have pheremones that whisper a little secret to you that sounds like this, "Hey. Hey you. Psst. Smell meeeeeee. With your soooooul."
So you have to listen because your brain makes you do it. And its AWEsome.
Androstadienone, also known as androsta-4,16,-dien-3-one, is a chemical compound that has been described as having strong pheromone-like activities in humans.[1] It is derivative of the sex hormone testosterone: however, androstadienone does not exhibit any known androgenic or anabolic effects. Though it has been reported to significantly affect the mood of women, it does not alter behaviour. [2] Androstadienone has a strong odor of sweat and is commonly sold in male fragrances, purportedly to increase sexual attraction.
I would venture to say it in fact DOES alter behaviour of women and I speak for myself.
Perfect sentence.I call that hilariopoetic.
I am an olfactory slut.
I like to smell everything (not everything but close)
New York is a great place for that.
I like to smell food before I eat it. And I like to report to whoever I am with at the moment what I can smell and if I find it pleasant or not.
This is one of my compulsive traits.
Some people hate to be smelled.
But I really like smelling people because it helps you learn whether or not they should be in your pack. (like wolves)
Sometimes you should smell people secretly, like over their shoulder near their neck so they don't think you are Hannibal Lecter.
Some people have pheremones that whisper a little secret to you that sounds like this, "Hey. Hey you. Psst. Smell meeeeeee. With your soooooul."
So you have to listen because your brain makes you do it. And its AWEsome.
Androstadienone, also known as androsta-4,16,-dien-3-one, is a chemical compound that has been described as having strong pheromone-like activities in humans.[1] It is derivative of the sex hormone testosterone: however, androstadienone does not exhibit any known androgenic or anabolic effects. Though it has been reported to significantly affect the mood of women, it does not alter behaviour. [2] Androstadienone has a strong odor of sweat and is commonly sold in male fragrances, purportedly to increase sexual attraction.
I would venture to say it in fact DOES alter behaviour of women and I speak for myself.
rastafara fiyah dance sex music hip hop
This womans words this womans words
The video is just a song, don't get scared y'all I know you can't stand watching anything I put up here.
play the song read the lyrics get to class!
Humdi Lila Allah Jehova
Yahweh Dios Ma'ad Jah
Rastafara fiyah dance, sex, music, hip-hop
It's bigger than religion
hip-hop
it's bigger than my n****
hip-hop
it's bigger than the government
(humdi luli lali lulo)
This one fa' Dilla, hip-hop...
(humdi luli la, humdi luli la lilulo, humdi lulila humdi lulilaaa...)
we ain't..
dead said the children don't believe it
We just made ourselves invisible..
underwater, stove-top,
blue flame scientist come out with your scales up..
get baptized in the ocean of the hungry
(Humdi luli lalilulo, Humdi lulilalilu)
My n****s turn in to gods,
walls come tumblin...(aaahhh)
Chorus
Humdi lila Allah jehova
yahweh dios ma'ad jah
Rastafara fyah dance,
sex, music, hip-hop
It's bigger than religion
hip-hop
it's bigger than my n****s
hip-hop
it's bigger than the government
(humdi luli lali lulo)
This one is the healer, hip-hop...
(humdi luli la, humdi lulilalilulo, humdi lulila, humdi lulilaaaa)
Told you
we aint dead yet
we been livin' through your internet
you don't have to believe everything you think
we've been programmed
wake up, we miss you.
they call you indigo, we call you Africa..
go get baptized in the ocean
of the people SAY
(Humdi luli lalulilo)
say reboot, refresh, restart..
fresh page,
new day,
o.g.'s,
new key...
The video is just a song, don't get scared y'all I know you can't stand watching anything I put up here.
play the song read the lyrics get to class!
Humdi Lila Allah Jehova
Yahweh Dios Ma'ad Jah
Rastafara fiyah dance, sex, music, hip-hop
It's bigger than religion
hip-hop
it's bigger than my n****
hip-hop
it's bigger than the government
(humdi luli lali lulo)
This one fa' Dilla, hip-hop...
(humdi luli la, humdi luli la lilulo, humdi lulila humdi lulilaaa...)
we ain't..
dead said the children don't believe it
We just made ourselves invisible..
underwater, stove-top,
blue flame scientist come out with your scales up..
get baptized in the ocean of the hungry
(Humdi luli lalilulo, Humdi lulilalilu)
My n****s turn in to gods,
walls come tumblin...(aaahhh)
Chorus
Humdi lila Allah jehova
yahweh dios ma'ad jah
Rastafara fyah dance,
sex, music, hip-hop
It's bigger than religion
hip-hop
it's bigger than my n****s
hip-hop
it's bigger than the government
(humdi luli lali lulo)
This one is the healer, hip-hop...
(humdi luli la, humdi lulilalilulo, humdi lulila, humdi lulilaaaa)
Told you
we aint dead yet
we been livin' through your internet
you don't have to believe everything you think
we've been programmed
wake up, we miss you.
they call you indigo, we call you Africa..
go get baptized in the ocean
of the people SAY
(Humdi luli lalulilo)
say reboot, refresh, restart..
fresh page,
new day,
o.g.'s,
new key...
Monday, March 10, 2008
Change Your Clocks.
Don't forget that!
Time is going by, things are happening.
I broke my phone long ago and it has been holding out for a couple months now, sometimes working, sometimes not. i basically bought it because I wanted 2MP camera and the radio capabilities. So i got the genius idea...maybe the next phone I get, I should buy it for CALLING PEOPLE.
Then I went on ebay and somehow ended up with this:
LG Shine!
Its called the Shine because its fucking shiny. The screen is literally a mirror. Sometimes when I buy things like this I realized I really truly am a girl and there is nothing I can do about it.
This is not a phone a man would buy.
Because in 5 minutes it will be covered in fingerprints and sour cream and onion chip dust.
Something will inevitably crack and I will be so pissed off I will want to kill myself.
Because when this phone stops being shiny, what is it?
Just another thing I bought that I hate.
I got it because its pretty, ok? So three months from now when I spill a beer on it or drop it in the bathtub while I'm gossiping with TallyDeadDead, don't feel bad for me at all.
I did this to myself.
I need phone numbers too, by the way. Which is a task I truly hate.
Who do you even ask for numbers from?
There is bound to be at least a few awkward moments trying to refill the phone book. Not only that, some people will really think that I want their number when I totally don't. And I'm a shit liar so I will probably just end up being like, nah I'm good. Really. Thanks though.
So lets get personal.
Then lets get physical.
Then lets get outta town.
I am a bit unfamiliar with the feeling, but I am almost embarrassed about my actions lately. (See most recent blog entry for reasons)
I go through these very absurd phases where I definitely drink too much and I stop being dependable and kind and I have one foot out the door of the acceptable behavior universe. I start to do things without thinking about how it effects the people around me and then when I get yelled at, I turn into a serious fucking jerk and fall back on the definitive Krissy statement, "Go fuck yourself i don't need your annoying ass anyway. Kick rocks pal."
You can interchange those words with other words, but its always the same idea which is: Yes I see youre mad, no I don't care, and in a way, its funny to me.
I usually don't mean it, but I am prettttay pretttay convincing when I am in the mood.
Unfortunately for the poor souls who I emotionally abuse at times, I do not believe in therapy. i don't want to be a Pavlovs dog, I don't want to be taught "new innovative ways" to shut the fuck up and be an adult. I don't want "external support without judgement" or an "impartial ear."
Because I see that as the great manipulation.
To be listened to by a stranger. And they give you that calm look. But behind that there are calculations going on, so clinical that you stop being a human and you become a problem for someone else to solve. I am not a Rubiks cube, I'm just an immature jerk. Thats really it.
So as I have said before, and will surely say again. I. am a work in progress.
And one day I won't just be a jokester. i will also be fully humbled and openminded and considerate. And I reeeeeeally reeeeeally think I can do that.
I promise.
But for now, give me a break.
(Insert Kit Kat bar reference here)
Deeper still.
If you have the patience time or desire, i suggest you read this. I suppose it is where my reflection stems from as of late. I know people HATE to read things on blogs that are not about sex/fun/parties/gossip/being hip but I still want to share it, because I have been reading it over for awhile now and its something I want to bring to the table.
QUESTIONS TO AND COMMENTS BY SRI RAMANA MAHARSHI:
Atyashrami, teacher, poet, self inquiry advocate
What is the path of inquiry for understanding the nature of the mind?
That which rises as 'I' in this body is the mind. If one inquires as to where in the body the thought 'I' rises first, one would discover that it rises in the heart. That is the place of the mind's origin. Even if one thinks constantly 'I' 'I', one will be led to that place. Of all the thoughts that arise in the mind, the 'I' thought is the first. It is only after the rise of this that the other thoughts arise. It is after the appearance of the first personal pronoun that the second and third personal pronouns appear; without the first personal pronoun there will not be the second and third.
How will the mind become quiescent?
By the inquiry 'Who am I?'. The thought 'who am I?' will destroy all other thoughts, and like the stick used for stirring the burning pyre, it will itself in the end get destroyed. Then, there will arise Self-realization.
What is the means for constantly holding on to the thought 'Who am I?'
When other thoughts arise, one should not pursue them, but should inquire: 'To whom do they arise?' It does not matter how many thoughts arise. As each thought arises, one should inquire with diligence, "To whom has this thought arisen?". The answer that would emerge would be "To me". Thereupon if one inquires "Who am I?", the mind will go back to its source; and the thought that arose will become quiescent. With repeated practice in this manner, the mind will develop the skill to stay in its source. When the mind that is subtle goes out through the brain and the sense-organs, the gross names and forms appear; when it stays in the heart, the names and forms disappear. Not letting the mind go out, but retaining it in the Heart is what is called "inwardness" (antar-mukha). Letting the mind go out of the Heart is known as "externalisation" (bahir-mukha). Thus, when the mind stays in the Heart, the 'I' which is the source of all thoughts will go, and the Self which ever exists will shine. Whatever one does, one should do without the egoity "I". If one acts in that way, all will appear as of the nature of Siva (God).
Are there no other means for making the mind quiescent?
Other than inquiry, there are no adequate means. If through other means it is sought to control the mind, the mind will appear to be controlled, but will again go forth. Through the control of breath also, the mind will become quiescent; but it will be quiescent only so long as the breath remains controlled, and when the breath resumes the mind also will again start moving and will wander as impelled by residual impressions. The source is the same for both mind and breath. Thought, indeed, is the nature of the mind. The thought "I" is the first thought of the mind; and that is egoity. It is from that whence egoity originates that breath also originates. Therefore, when the mind becomes quiescent, the breath is controlled, and when the breath is controlled the mind becomes quiescent. But in deep sleep, although the mind becomes quiescent, the breath does not stop. This is because of the will of God, so that the body may be preserved and other people may not be under the impression that it is dead. In the state of waking and in Samadhi, when the mind becomes quiescent the breath is controlled. Breath is the gross form of mind. Till the time of death, the mind keeps breath in the body; and when the body dies the mind takes the breath along with it. Therefore, the exercise of breath-control is only an aid for rendering the mind quiescent (manonigraha); it will not destroy the mind (manonasa).
Like the practice of breath-control, meditation on the forms of God, repetition of Mantras, restriction on food, etc., are but aids for rendering the mind quiescent.
Time is going by, things are happening.
I broke my phone long ago and it has been holding out for a couple months now, sometimes working, sometimes not. i basically bought it because I wanted 2MP camera and the radio capabilities. So i got the genius idea...maybe the next phone I get, I should buy it for CALLING PEOPLE.
Then I went on ebay and somehow ended up with this:
LG Shine!
Its called the Shine because its fucking shiny. The screen is literally a mirror. Sometimes when I buy things like this I realized I really truly am a girl and there is nothing I can do about it.
This is not a phone a man would buy.
Because in 5 minutes it will be covered in fingerprints and sour cream and onion chip dust.
Something will inevitably crack and I will be so pissed off I will want to kill myself.
Because when this phone stops being shiny, what is it?
Just another thing I bought that I hate.
I got it because its pretty, ok? So three months from now when I spill a beer on it or drop it in the bathtub while I'm gossiping with TallyDeadDead, don't feel bad for me at all.
I did this to myself.
I need phone numbers too, by the way. Which is a task I truly hate.
Who do you even ask for numbers from?
There is bound to be at least a few awkward moments trying to refill the phone book. Not only that, some people will really think that I want their number when I totally don't. And I'm a shit liar so I will probably just end up being like, nah I'm good. Really. Thanks though.
So lets get personal.
Then lets get physical.
Then lets get outta town.
I am a bit unfamiliar with the feeling, but I am almost embarrassed about my actions lately. (See most recent blog entry for reasons)
I go through these very absurd phases where I definitely drink too much and I stop being dependable and kind and I have one foot out the door of the acceptable behavior universe. I start to do things without thinking about how it effects the people around me and then when I get yelled at, I turn into a serious fucking jerk and fall back on the definitive Krissy statement, "Go fuck yourself i don't need your annoying ass anyway. Kick rocks pal."
You can interchange those words with other words, but its always the same idea which is: Yes I see youre mad, no I don't care, and in a way, its funny to me.
I usually don't mean it, but I am prettttay pretttay convincing when I am in the mood.
Unfortunately for the poor souls who I emotionally abuse at times, I do not believe in therapy. i don't want to be a Pavlovs dog, I don't want to be taught "new innovative ways" to shut the fuck up and be an adult. I don't want "external support without judgement" or an "impartial ear."
Because I see that as the great manipulation.
To be listened to by a stranger. And they give you that calm look. But behind that there are calculations going on, so clinical that you stop being a human and you become a problem for someone else to solve. I am not a Rubiks cube, I'm just an immature jerk. Thats really it.
So as I have said before, and will surely say again. I. am a work in progress.
And one day I won't just be a jokester. i will also be fully humbled and openminded and considerate. And I reeeeeeally reeeeeally think I can do that.
I promise.
But for now, give me a break.
(Insert Kit Kat bar reference here)
Deeper still.
If you have the patience time or desire, i suggest you read this. I suppose it is where my reflection stems from as of late. I know people HATE to read things on blogs that are not about sex/fun/parties/gossip/being hip but I still want to share it, because I have been reading it over for awhile now and its something I want to bring to the table.
QUESTIONS TO AND COMMENTS BY SRI RAMANA MAHARSHI:
Atyashrami, teacher, poet, self inquiry advocate
What is the path of inquiry for understanding the nature of the mind?
That which rises as 'I' in this body is the mind. If one inquires as to where in the body the thought 'I' rises first, one would discover that it rises in the heart. That is the place of the mind's origin. Even if one thinks constantly 'I' 'I', one will be led to that place. Of all the thoughts that arise in the mind, the 'I' thought is the first. It is only after the rise of this that the other thoughts arise. It is after the appearance of the first personal pronoun that the second and third personal pronouns appear; without the first personal pronoun there will not be the second and third.
How will the mind become quiescent?
By the inquiry 'Who am I?'. The thought 'who am I?' will destroy all other thoughts, and like the stick used for stirring the burning pyre, it will itself in the end get destroyed. Then, there will arise Self-realization.
What is the means for constantly holding on to the thought 'Who am I?'
When other thoughts arise, one should not pursue them, but should inquire: 'To whom do they arise?' It does not matter how many thoughts arise. As each thought arises, one should inquire with diligence, "To whom has this thought arisen?". The answer that would emerge would be "To me". Thereupon if one inquires "Who am I?", the mind will go back to its source; and the thought that arose will become quiescent. With repeated practice in this manner, the mind will develop the skill to stay in its source. When the mind that is subtle goes out through the brain and the sense-organs, the gross names and forms appear; when it stays in the heart, the names and forms disappear. Not letting the mind go out, but retaining it in the Heart is what is called "inwardness" (antar-mukha). Letting the mind go out of the Heart is known as "externalisation" (bahir-mukha). Thus, when the mind stays in the Heart, the 'I' which is the source of all thoughts will go, and the Self which ever exists will shine. Whatever one does, one should do without the egoity "I". If one acts in that way, all will appear as of the nature of Siva (God).
Are there no other means for making the mind quiescent?
Other than inquiry, there are no adequate means. If through other means it is sought to control the mind, the mind will appear to be controlled, but will again go forth. Through the control of breath also, the mind will become quiescent; but it will be quiescent only so long as the breath remains controlled, and when the breath resumes the mind also will again start moving and will wander as impelled by residual impressions. The source is the same for both mind and breath. Thought, indeed, is the nature of the mind. The thought "I" is the first thought of the mind; and that is egoity. It is from that whence egoity originates that breath also originates. Therefore, when the mind becomes quiescent, the breath is controlled, and when the breath is controlled the mind becomes quiescent. But in deep sleep, although the mind becomes quiescent, the breath does not stop. This is because of the will of God, so that the body may be preserved and other people may not be under the impression that it is dead. In the state of waking and in Samadhi, when the mind becomes quiescent the breath is controlled. Breath is the gross form of mind. Till the time of death, the mind keeps breath in the body; and when the body dies the mind takes the breath along with it. Therefore, the exercise of breath-control is only an aid for rendering the mind quiescent (manonigraha); it will not destroy the mind (manonasa).
Like the practice of breath-control, meditation on the forms of God, repetition of Mantras, restriction on food, etc., are but aids for rendering the mind quiescent.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Please stop taking your clothes off.
I am back in the city after an evening of Jersey debauchery.
I don't remember much after about midnight but I have hilarious flashes of fighting, nudity, yelling, and duh. booze.
So I decided yesterday while I was at work that I wanted to head out to my mums and Steph kindly agreed to come with.
She fits in well amongst my creepy high school friends. Its kinda perfect.
So we had the worst cab driver ever and Steph yelled at him a lot which made me laugh but also a little sad. We almost missed our ferry. That would not have been rad because yesterday was torrential downpour day and not time to be stuck at a pier.
I also came up with the idea that all gypsy cab drivers should only be addressed as "Gypsy."
Example: "Hey Gypsy get off the god damn phone and drive"
So the boat was good times, super rocky. We shared a 6 dollar beer. That wasn't that cool.
Nicole and Murph picked us up and come over and it was drink time. When we got to my moms house Michelle was already standing in my kitchen being weird and Eddie was taking a shit. Natch.
This is what a hilarious lesbian buys at the liquor store.
We played cards a lot and I drank shots which is so old school its not even funny.
I was wasted within the hour.
The beginning of the end my friend.
Also I was wearing Berels shirt. Which fits me like a glove, unlike him. Bit Snug.
Me and Steph ate lots of Pringles and I think they should change the catch phrase from from once you pop you can't stop to "empty the tube!!!" In the commercial, an extremely annoying guy would yell that with his face super close to the camera.
Fuck you Tiff.
So yeah I really love drinking games and I loved it when JJ came over wearing a leopard coat and a 2Pac tshirt.
Jeylan told us makiage is the Turkish word for makeup.
Hella cultured.
I loved it when Zack and Teddy came over too. But the weren't wearing funny things. Just saying funny things.
These things happened:
1. I ended up rapping over a Mase song about people who speak Yiddish
2. Eddie named Stephanie Tiff. Then she named him Lenny.
3. I got naked playing strip Spoons.
4. Eddie wore my bra and broke it.
5. Steph asked in all seriousness if you're allowed to drink and drive in jersey.
6. Dance party. inside and outside.
Toughnasty.
7. Teddy wore my mums sass coat
8. Teddy and I boxed in the kitchen.
9. It rained.
10. I started to forget things and I now wish I could remember because I'm pretty sure they were all hilar.
Jeeves.
Lucy you slutbag.
Yeah, thats cool. I'll just use this thing cause it totally makes sense to dump all that pot right in here and give this horn mouthpeice sitch a blowie.
This morning my mum came home to a repulsive mess, boys on the couch with no blankies, the majority of her food ravaged, and probably a shitty smell.
She gave us a bag of bagels and went to Atlantic City with her boyfriend.
Shes big time like that.
On the ferry back I saw a guy I used to be in love with.
Hes still a tiny dream.
Too bad his girlfriend is such a hag.
Alls I know is, its time to go watch Keanu Reeves movies with Katie.
Score.
I don't remember much after about midnight but I have hilarious flashes of fighting, nudity, yelling, and duh. booze.
So I decided yesterday while I was at work that I wanted to head out to my mums and Steph kindly agreed to come with.
She fits in well amongst my creepy high school friends. Its kinda perfect.
So we had the worst cab driver ever and Steph yelled at him a lot which made me laugh but also a little sad. We almost missed our ferry. That would not have been rad because yesterday was torrential downpour day and not time to be stuck at a pier.
I also came up with the idea that all gypsy cab drivers should only be addressed as "Gypsy."
Example: "Hey Gypsy get off the god damn phone and drive"
So the boat was good times, super rocky. We shared a 6 dollar beer. That wasn't that cool.
Nicole and Murph picked us up and come over and it was drink time. When we got to my moms house Michelle was already standing in my kitchen being weird and Eddie was taking a shit. Natch.
This is what a hilarious lesbian buys at the liquor store.
We played cards a lot and I drank shots which is so old school its not even funny.
I was wasted within the hour.
The beginning of the end my friend.
Also I was wearing Berels shirt. Which fits me like a glove, unlike him. Bit Snug.
Me and Steph ate lots of Pringles and I think they should change the catch phrase from from once you pop you can't stop to "empty the tube!!!" In the commercial, an extremely annoying guy would yell that with his face super close to the camera.
Fuck you Tiff.
So yeah I really love drinking games and I loved it when JJ came over wearing a leopard coat and a 2Pac tshirt.
Jeylan told us makiage is the Turkish word for makeup.
Hella cultured.
I loved it when Zack and Teddy came over too. But the weren't wearing funny things. Just saying funny things.
These things happened:
1. I ended up rapping over a Mase song about people who speak Yiddish
2. Eddie named Stephanie Tiff. Then she named him Lenny.
3. I got naked playing strip Spoons.
4. Eddie wore my bra and broke it.
5. Steph asked in all seriousness if you're allowed to drink and drive in jersey.
6. Dance party. inside and outside.
Toughnasty.
7. Teddy wore my mums sass coat
8. Teddy and I boxed in the kitchen.
9. It rained.
10. I started to forget things and I now wish I could remember because I'm pretty sure they were all hilar.
Jeeves.
Lucy you slutbag.
Yeah, thats cool. I'll just use this thing cause it totally makes sense to dump all that pot right in here and give this horn mouthpeice sitch a blowie.
This morning my mum came home to a repulsive mess, boys on the couch with no blankies, the majority of her food ravaged, and probably a shitty smell.
She gave us a bag of bagels and went to Atlantic City with her boyfriend.
Shes big time like that.
On the ferry back I saw a guy I used to be in love with.
Hes still a tiny dream.
Too bad his girlfriend is such a hag.
Alls I know is, its time to go watch Keanu Reeves movies with Katie.
Score.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Experiment Postponement
So at the suggestion of Tally Dead Dead, today I was going to blog naked.
There are a couple of very good reasons for this. Main reason being, I really like to be naked. Reference Samantha West photography for any and all proof of this.
Speaking of Pammy, she has a show in LA this Friday. Get on tappa that SmellA folks.
Chamber Made. Show Title invented by YOURS TRULY.
Thank you thank you no need for applause.
Love you Pammy, I have never been prouder of anyone in my life.
Subject at hand.
The other reason to nude blog, I think people are generally removed from the uni. Here it all is, going on. Things are happening in an energy sense. We are energy ourselves. So if you think about it, clothes are just barrier to the energy fields. My maternal grandparents, were in fact, at a time, practicing nudists. Its simply in my blood to shed the gear and rock out with the elements. My mother told me an amazing story about having to eat dinner with her naked parents. Also playing cards naked. Whatever gets you going i guess.
Point being, I was going to blog nude to see if there was a palpable difference in my delivery. I was pretty set on the idea until I remembered that I live in a BASEMENT. Thought it may be pleasantly mild outdoors, it is about 40 degrees in my room. Therefor the nude experiment will be better played out in lets say a month.
So, lots of stuff.
First of all, I saw an amazing couple on the bus today. I should make a seperate blog just for bus tales.
So These two people, they are sitting on the bus. They got on before I did. I get on at 72nd so they were uptown uptown. Buying drugs?! You decide.
So they are both pretty schlumpy. Like, They have too many layers on. In addition, they have three plastic bags of crap under their seats, as well as two pairs of sneakers. Just carry your life around, NBD. If they wanna go for a jog, they are set! They have the kicks to perform!
So I really don;t care about whatever they have going on until they decide its snack time.
Lady dopehead takes out a haggard old movie theater box of Mike and Ikes. The next thing I observe is so very telling about their drug habits. The MOVEMENT ITSELF. Of dopehead lady. Shaking the box. And bringing hand to mouth. Takes a good minute and a half. Its like I am watching slo mo life. Her eyes are maybe 1/32 of the way open. Slow chomp. Like the big turtle in the swamp from Neverending Story. Now she has to pass some to her sloth-like lover. They are sharing Mike and Ikes not saying a word, they just randomly stroke eachother in a passive sleepy fashion.
I enjoy.
I took some pictures of them. Needless to say, they did not notice a goddamn thing.
Dope is Fucked. Up.
Classic garbage jacket find.
Dopehead body movements in unison!
New topic.
This Friday is First Fridays at the Muz of Natch History.
There are drinks and djs in the African Mammal wing.
Magical.
Also, Yacht is performing and I like that.
Link:
http://www.nhm.org/firstfridays/
Do join.
My life is getting quite stagnant, so I am spending afternoons cleaning house and downloading music I have never heard of. Every once in awhile I try to get someone to come over to no avail.
Then I give up and go to the corner for beers and Gil says, "Heeeeeey senorita!"
Then I feel bad about myself for being a total loser and getting a six at 5 pm.
I should be eating dinner.
I'm not.
This IS dinner.
Then I have weird cravings for things like jalapeno chips or Ben and Jerrys. Every once in awhile I want to walk all the way to Pathmark for something more exotic like a block of cheese or crab meat. With hot mustard. MMMMMMMMM.
There are a couple of very good reasons for this. Main reason being, I really like to be naked. Reference Samantha West photography for any and all proof of this.
Speaking of Pammy, she has a show in LA this Friday. Get on tappa that SmellA folks.
Chamber Made. Show Title invented by YOURS TRULY.
Thank you thank you no need for applause.
Love you Pammy, I have never been prouder of anyone in my life.
Subject at hand.
The other reason to nude blog, I think people are generally removed from the uni. Here it all is, going on. Things are happening in an energy sense. We are energy ourselves. So if you think about it, clothes are just barrier to the energy fields. My maternal grandparents, were in fact, at a time, practicing nudists. Its simply in my blood to shed the gear and rock out with the elements. My mother told me an amazing story about having to eat dinner with her naked parents. Also playing cards naked. Whatever gets you going i guess.
Point being, I was going to blog nude to see if there was a palpable difference in my delivery. I was pretty set on the idea until I remembered that I live in a BASEMENT. Thought it may be pleasantly mild outdoors, it is about 40 degrees in my room. Therefor the nude experiment will be better played out in lets say a month.
So, lots of stuff.
First of all, I saw an amazing couple on the bus today. I should make a seperate blog just for bus tales.
So These two people, they are sitting on the bus. They got on before I did. I get on at 72nd so they were uptown uptown. Buying drugs?! You decide.
So they are both pretty schlumpy. Like, They have too many layers on. In addition, they have three plastic bags of crap under their seats, as well as two pairs of sneakers. Just carry your life around, NBD. If they wanna go for a jog, they are set! They have the kicks to perform!
So I really don;t care about whatever they have going on until they decide its snack time.
Lady dopehead takes out a haggard old movie theater box of Mike and Ikes. The next thing I observe is so very telling about their drug habits. The MOVEMENT ITSELF. Of dopehead lady. Shaking the box. And bringing hand to mouth. Takes a good minute and a half. Its like I am watching slo mo life. Her eyes are maybe 1/32 of the way open. Slow chomp. Like the big turtle in the swamp from Neverending Story. Now she has to pass some to her sloth-like lover. They are sharing Mike and Ikes not saying a word, they just randomly stroke eachother in a passive sleepy fashion.
I enjoy.
I took some pictures of them. Needless to say, they did not notice a goddamn thing.
Dope is Fucked. Up.
Classic garbage jacket find.
Dopehead body movements in unison!
New topic.
This Friday is First Fridays at the Muz of Natch History.
There are drinks and djs in the African Mammal wing.
Magical.
Also, Yacht is performing and I like that.
Link:
http://www.nhm.org/firstfridays/
Do join.
My life is getting quite stagnant, so I am spending afternoons cleaning house and downloading music I have never heard of. Every once in awhile I try to get someone to come over to no avail.
Then I give up and go to the corner for beers and Gil says, "Heeeeeey senorita!"
Then I feel bad about myself for being a total loser and getting a six at 5 pm.
I should be eating dinner.
I'm not.
This IS dinner.
Then I have weird cravings for things like jalapeno chips or Ben and Jerrys. Every once in awhile I want to walk all the way to Pathmark for something more exotic like a block of cheese or crab meat. With hot mustard. MMMMMMMMM.
You'll Never See That Water Again.
Berel found this video.
I might have peed a little watching it but don't tell anyone.
I might have peed a little watching it but don't tell anyone.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
great job.
two things are amazing.
jons guest blog.
and this video.
now that thats over with!
it is 55 degrees today but the sun is not out. Weather updates! It feels like we are trying to avoid the silence in an elevator. But we aren't!
Here is some good news:
1. My ex boyfriend has a new girlfriend WAY crazier than me, meaning it wasn't my fault I was such a wackjob, it's obviously just his effect on women.
Shes been emailing me.
Good thing I have a killer sense of humour and a decent amount of heart or else I would end up saying some things that would make her want to spend eternity in hell as opposed to sticking with him. DRAMA! OOOOH no she di'int.
Ooh yes she did.
2. I got some new shampoo that smells really awesome but only cost 6 dollars. Holler.
3. It's not Monday anymore.
4. Tomorrow is Wednesday.
5. I still have not had an emotional breakdown about the boy I like moving to another country in a month. I think I will make it all the waaaaaaaay. To the last day. Then. I will do something very unlike me. I will cry a little and not yell at all.
Unless i get drunk.
Then I'm pretty sure I will be yelling.
So odds are, I'll be yelling?
Because odds are.
I'll be drinking.
So I kid.
Thats not really good news its just "right-now-good-news" that the freak out hasn't arrived yet.
I feel like I'm threatening myself.
OK. Back to good news.
6. I don't currently, nor have ever, slept with a guy with hair like this:
Ok, I get it. You're Italian. Maybe Hispanic. That is really fine with me. You probably have a naturally lovely skintone, a decent bone structure, and a strong bloodline. Why is it that you have to accost me on Lexington Ave with this FUCKING HAIR? GUHHHHHHH.
Who started this? I want to know. I don't think it was those Gotti boys because I feel like they are incapable of original thought, so it must have been someone else. Sometimes when I tell people I'm from Jersey, an image of a piece of shit like this flashes through my mind and i Pim. (Puke in mouth)
Ugh, so crispy.
7. Not only does my favorite chicken spot now have RED VELVET CAKE, but my dearest darling Gary happens to be representing right next to it.
Oh, red velvet cake plus Gary?
The only way to exceed level of awesome would be to have the guy behind the soda machine not eyeball molest me every time I ask for a number 4 with coca cola classic.
Wouldn't it be crazy if he was an Arabian prince who wanted me to see him for who he truly is like in Coming to America?
I still wouldn't go for it though because he's like the Middle Eastern Manson. And hes always on one of those earbud cell phone things. Dude, you work in fast food. Stop flossing please.
jons guest blog.
and this video.
now that thats over with!
it is 55 degrees today but the sun is not out. Weather updates! It feels like we are trying to avoid the silence in an elevator. But we aren't!
Here is some good news:
1. My ex boyfriend has a new girlfriend WAY crazier than me, meaning it wasn't my fault I was such a wackjob, it's obviously just his effect on women.
Shes been emailing me.
Good thing I have a killer sense of humour and a decent amount of heart or else I would end up saying some things that would make her want to spend eternity in hell as opposed to sticking with him. DRAMA! OOOOH no she di'int.
Ooh yes she did.
2. I got some new shampoo that smells really awesome but only cost 6 dollars. Holler.
3. It's not Monday anymore.
4. Tomorrow is Wednesday.
5. I still have not had an emotional breakdown about the boy I like moving to another country in a month. I think I will make it all the waaaaaaaay. To the last day. Then. I will do something very unlike me. I will cry a little and not yell at all.
Unless i get drunk.
Then I'm pretty sure I will be yelling.
So odds are, I'll be yelling?
Because odds are.
I'll be drinking.
So I kid.
Thats not really good news its just "right-now-good-news" that the freak out hasn't arrived yet.
I feel like I'm threatening myself.
OK. Back to good news.
6. I don't currently, nor have ever, slept with a guy with hair like this:
Ok, I get it. You're Italian. Maybe Hispanic. That is really fine with me. You probably have a naturally lovely skintone, a decent bone structure, and a strong bloodline. Why is it that you have to accost me on Lexington Ave with this FUCKING HAIR? GUHHHHHHH.
Who started this? I want to know. I don't think it was those Gotti boys because I feel like they are incapable of original thought, so it must have been someone else. Sometimes when I tell people I'm from Jersey, an image of a piece of shit like this flashes through my mind and i Pim. (Puke in mouth)
Ugh, so crispy.
7. Not only does my favorite chicken spot now have RED VELVET CAKE, but my dearest darling Gary happens to be representing right next to it.
Oh, red velvet cake plus Gary?
The only way to exceed level of awesome would be to have the guy behind the soda machine not eyeball molest me every time I ask for a number 4 with coca cola classic.
Wouldn't it be crazy if he was an Arabian prince who wanted me to see him for who he truly is like in Coming to America?
I still wouldn't go for it though because he's like the Middle Eastern Manson. And hes always on one of those earbud cell phone things. Dude, you work in fast food. Stop flossing please.
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