Thursday, May 29, 2008

Tell me.

If I'm a dick.

I will probably get a flood of IMs and texts and emails like "Yeah dude, you're really out of line about 99 percent of the time you're talking or looking at someone or generally conscious."

I just need to clear up that I never seem to get the point across that I have fun most of the time.
I'm not actually pissed off about expensive cabs or lines outside of galleries or being frighteningly single.
This directly applies to last night as well as pretty much every day of my life.

I am actually really happy which you would never guess, but for the most part, I am maniacally full of life energy.
If I was cheerful there would be absolutely nothing funny about me.
Hence, THE BLOG.

That being said, I would like to both apologize to my dear friends and thank them for not shunning me for being such a human black hole.
Or feigning it for entertainment purposes.

PS. I am also a good hugger. Hard to believe I know. I have a totally squishy personality inside.
I don't want word getting around about that shit so keep it hushy


So I'm in between job1 and job2 of today, both babysitting because thats my life apparently.
Today was really weird on all accounts, it was just like The Universe Tape Side B I don't get it.
I got off the bus and immediately walked past a fucking Krisnha, robe and all. Wow big deal. No. The big deal is that he was on a cell phone. A KRISHNA. On a CELL PHONE.

So wrong to me.
Then I came into my apartment and wondered what time the bomb exploded around my bed, then I remembered how drunk I managed to get last night between 7 and 1130pm.
That is another story.

Anyway I come into my room and naturally turn on my computer because I'm a loser, and the little icon shows up that I still have a dvd in there. I can't get it out. Its David Blaine Streetmagic.
Thats not the funny part.
This isn't meant to be funny.
I realized the parallel of this homo dvd being stuck. I watched it wasted in bed with the last dude i Slept with. Capital S because we didn't just Sleep we did other bed related things.
Now I can't get it out. The dvd I mean, not the dude. I also can't watch it. Not that I WANT to watch this dvd, its just the balls that I have no choice in the matter.
If you can't tell this isn't just a story about the movie.
Its a life lesson put that shit in your pocket. (Thats what I'm saying to myself, you don't have to give a shit about this lesson cause you'll get your own when you need it)
I am my computer.
A fucking mess with crappy dvds stuck in it, serving NO purpose, just getting in the way of the RIGHT DVD which now can't even be viewed. The End.
Not that this guy was/is that bad, hes not. Backtrack!

Anyway I have all these pictures and they all stink, the ones I took stink I mean.
My friends are great at that stuff, making nights and days seem special with their expensive cameras and understanding of light.

This is my favorite sign.
It blinks. Faster than necessary.

Last night I was over on the west side drinking svedka and sweating like a filthy pig.
I was also wearing high heels which I thought would make me look foolishly overdressed, little did I know they would be fashion plates evrawherrrrrre.
Trust fund girls in fake Louboutins and bright orange/yellow/blue/purple dresses.
Stephanie pointed out that they all look like dinosaurs.
Fashionsaurus Rexes.
Those bitches.
I am mostly jealous that I'm poor, but also grossed out at their fake tans and chickenbone appendages.
I think about 85% of the men there were gay, and the only slightly attractive "straight" men there I had already slept with or would never sleep with.
Not that thats why I go out. Its not.
Speaking of gays, I saw Fat Jew Josh which was a nice surprise.
I wish he was gay so everything about him would make sense.
He slipped on the floor and laid there talking to someone he knew all nonchalant trying to play it off. It made me really uncomfortable that he was so comfortable.
I am tired of boys who wear too many accessories.
That has nothing to do with anything but I mean it.
Seriously stop it.
The belt buckle AND the hat AND the watch AND the paint speckled Ray Bans AND the one-of-a-fucking-kind Jordans AND the facial hair AND the necklace AND the bandana AND the hospital bracelet AND the quirky ring meant for chicks.
Stop it.
Its overwhelming my vagina and now she hiding because shes scared of your accoutrement.

Speaking of hiding my vagina, Will is disgusting.
I guess thats what you get when you allow your nipple to be put on display.

This is it in full glory. Olivia is the star because she has actual talent, but I also like the idea of someone paying money to have my busted nude self shitty drunk in my moms backyard hanging on their wall.
Arts for Suckers!
Just kidding arts great.
Until the auction is over and someone writes "AMERICAN APPAREL ON ACID" right under the photo in black Sharpie.
Great, super nice.

Once again with the denim. He loves it!
Also check out Murphs boobs in the background.

This picture is totally pointless except to show this place was huge.
I think there were about 4 thousand artists with their shit on the walls.
I enjoy.

Olivia tells us she still hasnt washed her hair since we went upstate.
This is Stephanie being dramatic about it.

Jess is pretty and a good singer and she always remembers peoples names even when shes met them once like 9 months ago. Thats the sign of a classy bitch.

Everyone in Livs family looks the same.
Its frightening.
Maude was wearing an awesome onesie and had crimped hair.
So Irish and so weird.
She tried to tell us later at a bar on 35th street that in Ireland they say things CORRECTLY as opposed to us Americans saying things wrong.
The example used was from a poster on the wall for the movie Oedipus.
Maude says "EEEEEEEEEdipus".
Everyone else at the table said "EDipus"
Shut up Maude.

Olivia is looking at her own photos with this face.
That is funny to me.

There may never be a photo of she and I that is not repulsive or insane.

Denise and Jiwon and Kaitlin and Corinne and Naomi and all those lovely things came and stayed for about 20 minutes it seemed like.
They were not trying to hang.
To her credit Denise is sick. And was also wearing a cute yellow skirt. Nice try.
And Kaitlin was with some boy I SUSPECT is the one from school she used to say cute things about. Yesssssssssss.
Naomis boobs looked big but I say that every time I see her.
Sad point of my life is when I see Jay and he asks me where my bottle is. When I tell him I didnt bring one he suggests I call it a night.
For fucksake please tell me I am not that girl.
Maybe I am. Gross.

Sidenote: Gallery shows hiring bouncers/asshole door guys is the worst new trend in the universe.
Please stop.
People are pushing to get in because they don't know why you are even THERE telling them NOT to push to get in.
The pushing happens when you pick and choose who to let through the door.
It doesn't help that there was a huge jerkoff element in the crowd for the evening.
It felt like LA.
Sorry LA friends, but its true.
No one likes that about your city.
Its just icky, the whole hierarchy of entry.
Moving on.

When you sort of shuffle down the flights of stairs and walk 10-15 blocks to a bar this is the kind of pictures you get in the street.
A bunch of blurry girls.
I wrote some club songs on our walk, mostly about Chevy Chase and something about douche for your teeth.
I swore on my life I would never have the conversation, but somehow we ended up deciding who of us are which Sex and the City character.
I know.
Gross. Cliche. Pathetic.
Liv was pissed that shes obviously Miranda because she makes good money and has a nice boyfriend.
Then we decided who we are from Beverly Hills 90210 and I was born to be compared to Brenda. She has the shittiest attitude ever to appear on television.

I had a cheeseburger at Livs uncles bar and it was one of the best I've ever had.
I think it is the reason I was able to actually get into a cab and take my sorry haggard ass to bed at a decent time.
But I hate the west side because it cost me 16 dollars to get home.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Brad Pitt needs more money.

Finally back in the city, been gone since Thursday afternoon and for the love of god I miss my apartment.
I still haven't been there.
Ugh. This work day too shall pass.

I really don't have the energy to get into tales of Redwood, NY and the Memorial Weekend hijinx, but I will later.

In the meantime, Liv is in a show tomorrow evening, def go check it out. You will see boobs. Naked ones.

I guess its an auction too and the profits go to Brad Pitt's New Orleans fixem up charity. Good Cause, Good Cause.

Nice blog Krissy.
You didn't do a good job.

Great Job!

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Everyones lost it.

I had one of those nights on Friday where I made at least 10 dudes angry.
By saying mean things to them and making them feel emasculated.
I think at some point I am going to get punched in the face.
Then it will be on for real.
I have been having fantasies about throwing drinks at people, not to get them wet, but to see them get hit by the glass.
I don't want them to get hurt really I just think bar fights are this thing I am personally fascinated by.
They are so Roadhouse.
I think challenging someone who could possibly break your nose is the definition of freedom.

Another thing I found out Friday - Dumbo is the windiest neighborhood in the universe. The "breeze" coming off the water could blow away a fucking rhino.
Its not whimsical or romantic or cinematic, its unbearable.
I went with Katie to meet Liv (and Will) at the photo thing afterparty whatever.
We were supposed to have a pass but slipping in sidedoors works pretty well.
Liv has been looking especially ladylike what with her knee length frocks and demure demeanor.
The crowd there was pretty great mostly because there is nothing like seeing about 50 photonerds dance badly to 90s gimmick rap.
There were also lots of uglyhot old men wearing weird hats and ill fitted jackets. I noticed lots of guys wearing "SHOES shoes." Which mean like, grown up man shoes, dress shoes.
Olivia and I decided that SHOES shoes means youre either European or gay. Fair analysis.
This space in dumbo whatever it was is pretty huge and overwhelming. I don't care about photography but if I did it would have held my attention for hours I'm sure.

Photos from people in LA who cares big chandelier I want one people people free drinks mean pissed off event workers fuck you, you took the job.

Wow books about pictures.
Picture books. For professional adults.

There was free beer and wine which is always nice and i had fun lying to people about myself. Like when they would ask "oh did your photos win anything?"
"My photos? Yeah, yeah they did. Its pretty exciting."
"Really? Wow, congrats."
"Yeah, thats one of mine over there on the wall."


Katie drinking could maybe amuse me for the remainder of my life

Liv and Katie walkdanced right out of there.
It was really annoying to watch.
It was like. A shuffle.
When I think of shuffling I think of Chevy Chase which then makes me think about making out (with Chevy Chase)
(only during his drug years though, thats when he was a fox)

We went to Sweet Paradise surprise surprise to drink some more.

FP Will.
Never hit a guy with glasses.

Glasses was really horribly behaved.
Opening bags of food to "taste" at the store. Yelling about cars costing too much and deciding not to pay. What you can;t see is that Fashion Plate Will was also wearing two denim shirts. Why two?

We bought some Reeses Pieces courtesy of Olivias wallet and we were really nice about sharing. We gave lots of people free candy by walking by and dropping a couple in their drinks.
And by we I mean me.
Lil Ames showed up at some point and it was roomie reunion which is a big big deal after you've had about 10 drinks.

The rest of my night is not blog appropriate but I did come really close to smacking my friends boyfriend and I also somehow woke up sick Saturday morning.
And I still feel crusty.
I really hate that, the way god punishes you for having fun by halting your ability to breathe through your nose. So yesterday I could NOT attend Harold Hunter Day which was ten fucking feet from my apartment, I CANCELLED the open house to rent out Katies room this summer, I DID NOT get to go to any of the 18 trillion things that were going on last night.

BUT I watched a fantastic movie about a boy and his cokehead mom who leave the city to go to New Jersey for a summer and hang out with horrible rich people.
Very coming of age.
I highly recommend it.
There is lots of underage sexytime, liquid acid trips, deadhorse victims, Donald Sutherland, and golf.
Oh and guns.
And body paint.
I think I've given enough evidence that it is two hours of pure cinematic goodness.
I lso cried a little bit at the end because its super sad/heartwarming.
We all just want to be loved, you know???
You can watch it on


Why is it still raining.

I've been looking out this window for about 24 hours at this point and I will have to leave my room eventually.
And snore.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

I got anotha man but he ain't like ya

Firsty, todays food day.
I had a killer lunch my boss is a good cook.
Never reheat real food in anything but a sauce pan or an oven.
Show respect for your foods.
In one saucepan you can certainly heat your spinach, bbq pulled pork, and get your challah roll toastahh.
Challah atcha girl.

Nothing can go wrong after a good lunch its a little blessing in your tummy and then you just stroll through the day like a pepaw in the park.
Speaking of parks, peep 76th and York.
There are weird school kids there speaking French but that just part of the package.
Sunlight, camels, handball courts, trees.
Big time city utopia.
I think in the summer months the cement camel duo should spit water for cooling purposes but they don't.
Can't win em all.

My boys my boys the boys of my dreams are just like this
eternally boys never men eeeeew men.

Shout out to Liv for letting me "borrow" her hat because it means I don't have to dye my roots yet.

Bad hair equals bad self perception.
"ew I look horrible today"
"oh wait its just my Tennessee trailer 3 shades too dark root situation"

I say that in the mirror every morning.
I need a colorist.
I'm so glad I have a job title that doesn't end in IST.

Scoot across the rug its storytime.
Last night Pam stopped by, she Katie and I had a nice little sesh.

I want your boobs to be my adoptive caretaker.

sultan of the fertile bust valley

We told Katie about asshole bleach, and she definitely did not understand the concept.
So I explained it to the best of my ability and this was her reaction:

The whole thing about asshole bleaching is that its just taking the whole "cleanin up around town" thing really far.

I get it. Girls are supposed to be perfect.
But can a butthole catch a break?
Apparently not.
I have more to say on the topic but my mother reads this so I will exit stage left yaaaa da da da da da...Da!

Scott (not the professor but a young friend of Sir Ames)
dropped by with some fucking bedazzled gypsy cart.
He claims he will be selling newspapers in it on Canal or some ridiculous scheme like that.
Those crazy art loving kids.

Then he tells some story about girls who saw him dragging his cart along and stopped him to chat.
Turns out they were some kind of conceptual tramps because they gave him this upon their departure:

No thats not a flying saucer its my thumb.
Fuck off.

Secondy, what is a slut coupon.
Thirdy, how do you redeem it?
I need to figure this out quick because its gross and stupid and I wish I thought of it.

About five minutes after that I decided to go to sleep and thats the end of it all.
My room is clean and the windows are wide.


For those of you who have the patience of a retarded detective cross examiner, Night of 1000 Stevies pictures and or tales will commence as soon as Liv gets her shit moving and gives us fantastic photos.
I am amidst collecting.
Give up. Nevs.

* to get on tappa theeat before I cover it check

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Whats gods name I can't remember

Horses are the best.

Horses and people, horses in battle, horses in art, horses horses horses horses horses horses.
Baby horses, fat horses, tall horses, majestic horses, genius horses, stupid horses, tasty horses, French horses, pommel horses, gentle horses, prancing horses, sleeping horses, magic horses, hippie horses, concieted horses, indifferent horses, horses of another color, old horses, and hopefully no dead horses.

Meet me at the Museum of Natural History I have a membership whut whut exhibit open to the public aka ME and YOU in 4 days.

Not even fucking around, Thumbelina the miniature horsey will be there on Saturday just hanging out.
Oh you don't believe it?
Too good to be true?
Read and weep


I peed in my pants while I wrote that so I have to go clean myself up and squeal into my pillow with excitement.


Monday, May 12, 2008

Dirty Water

The glory of the New York Public Library online archives.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Have you seen me?

I'm not laying low, I'm just doing things a little differently.
While I wait for my perfect Ninja Turtle pizza to get here to cure my booze belly, I will share the imagery I'm sure you've so tirelessly been awaiting.
I am in a love hate relash with my blog right now because its being really tempermental and wont let me upload things.
So all of this is stupid shit I have for the most part half forgotten about anyway.

I am obsessed with self sufficient kids.
No way could I get on a bus alone when I was that age.
I would have peed myself then cried then pretended I was crying about something else.
So not only was I a sissy, but also a fucking liar.

Your bike sucks.
Everyone in this city thinks their bike kicks every other bikes ass.
I propose the idea that weird Chinese people are the raddest.
The Jazzy.
and Chained.
Of a salon.
That paint job is sublime.
Summer of the Jazzy, dudes.
Lets all get fat lazy and dorked out.

This is what you do on a nice day when being the nanny for a 2 year old boy with subhuman strength.
Fill an Igloo with bricks from the garden.
Add charcoal ash from the grill.
Then water.
A disgusting and strangely amusing hour wasted.
The subhuman strgnth part comes in when for fun, he drags it around the yard talking to himself about "doing the work"

Ok so I never blogged about Albany.
Maybe it was all too hilarious to share. Some things are left better as inside jokes so you have something to rub in the faces of your other friends.
Hahahahaha remember the Sidedoor Cafe beligerence kick out? Hahahahahaha remember our cave tourguide? Hahahahaha remember Jerome?
Oh thats right, you weren't theeeeeeerrrrrre. Buuuummer. Too bad.
Grow up Krissy.
Anyway, we went to this fucking craaaazy museum about the history of the state of New York. I seriously loved it. We set off an alarm by trying to get Steph in the wolf display, saw some creeped out wax humans, did a little museum dancing (ample space for large scale movement)
but the best thing I have ever seen.
Is contained in above photo.
A rock. That naturally glows. And its called (SCIENTIFICALLY NAMED).......
Oh my gay god.
Jesus lord in all of your glory.
Why is that so great? Not sure. Nevertheless I screamed in the museum.

I hated that Pam went abroad.
I missed her a lot so when she came home, naturally we had to sit around eating pizza and ice cream.
The Life.
I don't think she will like this picture very much.

We went to the best Polish spot.
Male Model Adrian and his hot Lady Model girlfriend Yomi had a little get together at Polonia.
The borsht was to die for. So I died. I am dead right now. If I go back and get another bowl of it, I can cancel out the effect and I will be alive for eternity. Natch. The pierogies were also great.
The bottles of beer were gigantic and cheap.
So except for the fact that I was surrounded by a table of better looking better educated better employed friends, it was a success.
I feel like a cheeseburger amongst a table of kobe.
MMM cheeseburgers.

Another kobe.
What an asshole.
Christian is prettier than every girl I know.
And he sings.
Basically I want to undergo radical genital surgery, become a boy, have my voicebox removed and replaced, get rods stuck in my legs to be at least 6 feet tall, and tell everyone that I'm him.
That way I would be super sexy.
Thankfully pretty people are gross to me so none of that surgery will be happening.
I prefer the company of the uglyhots.

Alex is also pretty but you can't tell when he is stoner pouting.
I like these guys and their band is pretty good. (Aloke shout out)
I would like to be paid for promotion services in 6 packs of Heineken and hair shampooing. WITH scalp massage.

Mother of the year 2008 Katherine Jess Conley/Miller smokes Marlboros and flips off her sister for absolutely no reason.
What a Georgia Peach.
*EDIT: I just got a bitchy email about how rude it is to insult whether somoeone is a good mom or not. I wasn't being sarcastic shes a great mom.
So let me be really specific:
Sourpuss of the Year.
Acuraccy and intent in my blog is very important.
* end of edit
My moms backyard is heaven for people who like fairies windchimes and swing couches.
Open invitation to come check it out.

Her absurdly perfect spawn had her 1st birthday last week.
Hence my trip to ATL.
I hope Kayla lives forever. Only in my dreams.

Aunt Krissy is super fun.
Kayla has started talking and said , "MMM good" while biting a dirty lemon.
I have video proof of it but I won't torture you. Showing that video would be like when a boy you want to sleep with tickles you as a flirtation tactic.
Cuteness injection.
Like shooting cocaine up your asshole. Thats what Stevie Nicks does. (NIGHT OF 1000 STEVIES BLOG COMING SOON. SO BIG TIME)

I wish this picture came out.
I finally saw Z after months of little to no love.
We are both flaky about keeping plans. And we are old friends so it seems ok to just let 6 months go by without a face to face.
4 years ago I showed a cell phone picture of Z to Neckface and told him she was maybe the girl of his dreams and that she lived in Cali so he would have to wait to meet her.
A week ago they met. Drunk. At Sweet and Viscious.
It was not how I had always envisioned it.
He said goodbye to her by biting her. That was my suggestion.
I blame the booze.
Point is, I love Zara and seeing her was great. Jeylans loopy ass was there to. Original Gypsy Den reunion. Sentimental shit.

Earlier that same night I had dinner at Good World wth Professor Alger. I love our dinners. They are always really fun and relaxing.
Especially when he has taken 6 Xanax that day.
Bogdan was our waiter and I think he had a really hard time understanding the thigs coming out of Professor Chill Outs mouth.
We ate a steak and it was fabulous.

Of all the things to take a picture of in my apartment.
"I like how your outlet looks really used. Like distressed."
So deep.
Must mean something right?
No probably not.
Weird weird guy.

Little taste of whats to come.
This was my favorite performer from NOTS last night.
I think hes taking hormones because he has these weird boobs sprouting under that frock.
He stripped down to gold booty shorts and bit whole oranges a spit the peices everywhere. He also doused himself in red wine and danced/lipsynched Desert Angel.
While strobe lights flashed.
It was fucking frantic and gross and my wet dream.
To be continued.

Monday, May 5, 2008

*Don't waste the hot years

My computer is useless.
I went to the apple store this morning and there were europeans with stupid glasses and sneakers without laces EVERYWHERE.
They also love stripes. On all clothing items.
And they love talking about the exchange rate and how awesome it is that our economy eats shit.
Ugh go away.

So the guy who tried to fix my stupid rotten Apple was named Bobel.
For peepsake.
He was very annoying and had to erase every single thing in my computer to get it working at all.
I decided that I hate everything and I'm glad I have almost nothing.
Poor people are free people.
I am just trying to talk myself out of the fact that I am an ignorant selfish consumer just like the rest of modern society.
The altitude up here on my high horse is making it hard to breathe.
i have asthma.

I have a super super long day of work and I have a rotten soul right now.
I think its from traveling this weekend.
Going to Atlanta, which is a place I happen to not like much, and getting delayed at the airport yesterday for awhile has made me a fucking monster today.
I only comprehend two types of people:
assholes and people from New York/New Jersey.
Usually if you are from here you are also an asshole so it works out really well for me.
People in Atlanta do EVERYTHING at half speed.

They also have the most disgusting food I have ever eaten.
Bad mexican, no delis, no SELTZER. What?? Not kidding. They dont HAVE seltzer. My mom and I realized its because theres no jews there. It all makes sense now.
The only thing they do right is fried chicken.

Aside from my family, which is obviously awesome, there is not much I like about the entire region. Being judgemental is shitty but give me a break already. There are some places i just don't belong.

One day in the fututre I will stop talking shit and just put up pictures of all these things, which is the only reason people look at blogs in the first place.

On a more fantastic note, i watched the end of The Outsiders yesterday with my sister.
How much hot bitch boyman action can you stuff into 90 minutes?
The answer.
Personally I have a soft spot for Dally.
He wears a shirt for about ten whole minutes of the movie and says things that are meant to be deep but come out hilarious.
"Do it for Johnny!"
Wipe away a tear, smoke a cigarrette and punch something! Yeah!
Fucking soches.

As I've said many times, I hate Tom Cruise and i want him to die.
Thank god hes only in it for a few scenes.
Also Ralph Maccio is absolutely horrible looking.
Aside from them, I wish I found a magic lamp with a genie in it and I would say my first wish would be take me to a universe where teenage Matt Dillon and Rob Lowe get into fights and them i get to make out with them behind a dumpster somewhere.
Then Patrick Swayze gives us hugs and tells us not to worry because as long as we stick together they'll never take us down.
Then I would carve a heart and DIE SOCH in a tree with my switch blade.

*blog title courtesy of Bianca.