I'll be in my office.

So whenever I don't feel like talking to someone or doing something, I'm just gonna say that.

I have an 'office' now.

Next to my bedroom.
What will a nanny do in an office you ask?
The same thing a bartender. Or a pet groomer. Or a landscaper would do in an office.
Ignore people, doodle on things with sharp pencils, write unnecessary emails, sing quietly, spin in a chair, and talk outloud about uninteresting things.
I may also read magazines, blog, take pictures of myself, and write some songs.
Speaking of, I think above the desk I don't have yet, I will frame the paper with Teen Horse Walks first song.
I will have to rig up some contraption that will be a double sided frame. Because we wrote on both side of the paper. It will be attached to the wall by a swingy hinge, so I can flip the frame back and forth to review all lyrics.
There will be a lot of pondering happening.

In that case, maybe I should say 'I'll be in my think tank'
But that is very fucky face sounding so maybe not.

So.
Onto what I really need to discuss.
Basically I think the matrix is real.
Evidence:

Why else would this woman be wearing these garments?
I don't know.
Luckily for your eyes and your genitals, what you do not see is her booty shorts.
Faux leather ones.
She had plenty of bottom butt showing.
Keep in mind this was like 2 days ago, when it was hmmmm I dunno 55 degrees tops?
Hi, you are stupid.
Please take the other pill.
Whichever one makes you go back to the pod thing.
Don't get all worked up nerds, I didn't memorize everything about that movie so just back off.
Also keep in mind I took this picture on Broadway and E4th (approximation)
Would you like to guess how many people were looking at her like she had 3 heads?
Tons.
Because that shit belongs in an S&M bar or MAYBE the East Village at the right time of night.
Guh.
Disgustahh.

Evidence number 2:

I don't know if this picture is evidence of matrix. Or evidence that I have severe severe paranoia.
But I felt like that bald sunglasses man was going to do something weird like open his briefcase and take out a future universe taser and stick it in my thigh.
God only knows what happens after that.
PS do bald guys have to wear sunglasses all the time?
It is their way of being tough without having rebel tresses?
I think so.

Anyway, I don't know what else is going on, people are just being weird and grumpy and I for one do not like it at all.

Speaking of weird and grumpy, how awful would it be to have to purchase both of these items on the same day from the drugstore?

Why are they next to eachother?
Hi, excuse me, Walgreens stock guy?.....I was just wondering, where is your shame aisle?
Because not that its your bees or anything but I have no idea who fathered my child and I'm preeeeetty sure my niece who I let move in with me is smoking crack. Either that or some super speed.
In any case... wheeeere would I get some stuff to take care of that?
Oh, good, hey look at that, right next to eachother. Two birds with one stone!

On a less suicidal note, its CMJ time in New York which I think I like.
I lub music!
Whenever people say they love music do you want to punch them in the face because I do.
Its like saying ''so I've been doing this thing its pretty good, i think the kids nowadays call it laughing. I like it."
Really?
Because everyone likes music.
Everyone likes laughing.
Everyone likes finding 20 dollars in the pants they haven't worn in like 2 weeks.
Big deal.
Last night I went to Tribeca Grand aka 12 dollar vodka soda rip off bastard bar.
The whole point was to hear some bands, in particular Lykke Li.
She was amazing.
She likes to dance a lot.
Me too!
She looks like a more interesting non-fetus version of the Olsens.



Not that you can tell, but Liv and I were kind of standing in the perfect spot.
It was fantastique.
Unfortunately there was a very very annoying girl standing behind me who I might have been capable of murdering.
She was one of those women who is quite pretty with a full lady body and non attention whore clothes, like a white button down all disheveled and proper jeans and boots with personality.
Like put together and not put together.
Like before she left her apartment she drank 4 glasses of wine and smoked a joint and is just too beyond.
TOO.
BEYOND.
Very pretentious without having to say or do much.
Call me a hater if you will, but she was so amazingly self aware and puffed up on the attention her homosexual accomplice gave her that she probably would not notice if the ceiling fell in.
I am not sure I can even get across the annoyance factor but thinking about her is making me feel a hulk out coming on.

Who is not annoying?
This person.



From here til March I predict that I will not be able to photograph a single persons face.
We are all walking around acting like its the fucking Yukon covering our nose and mouths.
Ugh I fear for January.

Oh wait, something else annoying.
Liv and I had a little dinner at Bread before going to that horseshit V party.
Please guess what we had to ASK out waiter to bring.
You got it.
Bread.
Hi, we're at Bread.
Can we get some fucking bread?
False advertising my friends.

I am over myself right now.
Negative negative.
All day.
This is not negative.

Hi new boots!
Hi kitty!
She likes my taste in footwear.
Now I just need to find a new pair of shoelaces for sassy accent appeal.
I realize in the dim dungeon lighting of my home, they may look like hooker shoes.
Bless your heart, they are certainly NOT.

Oh wait, I almost forgot, the best part of my day, I'm in the grocery with my mother buying New Jersey cigarettes (hee-eey 6.50 a pack)
and I see a People magazine issue devoted to Paul Newms.
It cost 12 dollars so like a cheap scumbag I opened it up and started taking pictures of the pictures.
Presh sesh.





Its like Paul and Joanna live inside of a rainbow in heaven and they play board games all day and dance to old timey tunes and everytime they kiss is like the fiiiiirst tiiiiiiiiime!
(in my mind i sang that with extra excitement voice on the 'first time' part)

If I don't get a Paul Newman for myself I will not die happy.
I will feel super ripped off.
I will hate on so much of the universe.
hi, hater!
Please refer to the Hi, Hater! blog expertly written by Annabelch, Classy Cholita.
Hi, Hater link also to your right.
I'm sure she will have something to say about my black black soul after this one.

Good night.

UM PS again.
How many times a day from here out will we all have to hear "ew I'm cold."
Ew so am I pal.

Human Day, by Tally Dead Dead

True Stories from PA, Part One


So I am inside of you. I am inside the storm. People ask me why I'm so quiet, it's because I'm inside. You talk, I talk. (plus I'm not quiet, I'm soft-spoken).


talLjon78: i have a surprise for you
kristycottonly: whats that
talLjon78: im writing human day
kristycottonly: yay
talLjon78: but im not writing it to send to you
kristycottonly: boo
talLjon78: im writing it already signed into your blog
talLjon78: under your name
talLjon78: as you
kristycottonly: whaaaaaa
talLjon78: yeah
kristycottonly: asshole
kristycottonly: ok


There was a man drinking from a giant guitar-shaped glass beer mug yelling into a field with his arms out for awhile facing away from everyone. The guy is like 60. I asked what he was doing, someone said "oh he's calling Indian spirits". I've seen him a few times since then at dive bars and he's always screaming in my face and laughing, and I can't understand a single word he says so I just smile and look at him awkwardly and he smiles and leaves me alone after a couple minutes.

But at that field that day I was feeling some sort of free-ness. From what I dont know. Everyone I knew told me to come to this field party in the country in PA. One of those days in the summer on the weekend when your friends call you totally drunk at like 3:00pm. Friends were passing around their phones to people I didn't even know who were giving me directions to a field I knew nothing about. But I could hear magic in stranger's voices. I drove to three different towns before I made it there due to drunken directions. No big, no big. Was it big? No. I made it there. There was a giant refrigerated trailer that was nothing but free flowing beer taps on the outside with gawd knows how many kegs inside. It always feels like you can go forever. Doesn't it. (I'm not asking).

So I'm watching this guy yelling at the fields for Indian spirits. I'm also watching this fellow I know stomp the hood of his 80s Jeep in while blaring hardcore metal from it. I'm watching people wreck four wheelers off of 6 foot jumps over fire. Theres a one-eyed stripper trying to get my number. Yeah, I gave it to her. There were acres and acres of nothing around but open land and woods. I was watching a hundred people screaming just because they could. People chugging liquors. The weather was absolutely perfect and everyone was having a perfect time, which is exactly when the pendulum swings the other way. And I'm glad I had something to do with it.

So this guy is starting a fight with me because he's an asshole and apparently I am too at the moment. He's saying I flicked a cigarette at his friend. We both know I didn't but let's just go with it. Yeah. Yeah. Feels good. Fine then. A guy gets in between us to break it up before something happens which is good because I would have gotten my ass kicked by this dude, but sometimes you're ready to die even when you're not. He's telling me he's gonna throw my "skinny ass right up that hill" but I was all like no you won't. Then the guy starts hitting the guys in the face who are in between him and I, which is when I started to feel some dread. Tally dread dread. Another guy who's like 45 years old came out of nowhere to pull people apart. Then I heard something that sounded like all three Rice Crispies characters at once, and the 45 year old literally landed at my feet screaming that his leg is broken. Theres something about the voice of despair thats unmistakable. People quickly drag him into the nearby garage which had its door wide open, and I looked up to see a frantic free-for-all with dozens of people for no reason whatsoever.

Now, there is something about this moment that's somehow beautiful. Whether you are fighting or trying to stop the fighting, you're grabbing ahold of people and you need to, the same way you need hugs. I like to think most of the beauty came from the fact that words had escaped everyones minds and what you saw was an extension of a part of the brain which was truer and deeper than normal. I put on my waterwings, that's how deep. And somehow the grass and trees and air are as involved as you, and there's no separation anywhere, and this fight was truly a moment as pure as something like dance, like the way the smile is natures afterthought of baring ones teeth. Same source, different direction. Follow? Good. Like it or love it.

This past week I was at a bar and the old guy who calls Indian spirits was there and someone said he's deaf, which explains why he's so hard to understand. And I've never really said anything to him before but I saw him glance at me across the barroom, and I mouthed the words "Indian spirits" to him, and he got a very serious look on his face and started nodding slowly.

Heee-eyy.

Estrogen fever i tell you.
I have been surrounded by vaginas for DAYS.
I feel like I should start a commune where alls we do is discuss feelings and eat snacks.
Sometimes we can mud wrestle.
Sounds sexy!?
It wouldn't be.

So Liv has been assed out since the Great Flood of 2008. Poor gal. Though I have been under the weather, I mustered the energy to put on my "weekend bra" (y'all know) and head over to Rivington Hotel last night. I owe it to her considering I've been MIA when needed.
I made it in good time, DBalls, Mauduler and Lindsey were sitting around in the room being cute and girly. Picture magazines lying around, unkept beds, and Meg Ryanesque outfits. Not really, DBalls is the only Meggy one. NBD ... I like your little brown buckle shoes and baggy winter top! Cutesy!



And of course resident hot bitch Lindsay had her giant New Mexico shaman lady creation wrapped around her, I'm a little jealz I didnt think of it first. If she was a winter cocktail she would be a hot toddy, no questions asked.

Yay, we chat a bit and Mauduler says people who blog have something wrong with them, I agree. Case in point, aherm.

We go downstairs to walk Lindsay out and go to the Liqua Sto' and WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE, Sterp appears, cute as a button. We also go to get some pizza.
Yay!
Cuteness cuteness, look who I'm becoming. Ughhhh I feel kindve like a man who once had balls but was then castrated and now has a little shack in his backyard where he keeps baby birds he rescues.

Somehow I end up defending myself and saying over and over "guys I'm not an alcoholic." No one accused me of being one.
That should imply where the evening was headed.
We drank and talked about girl things and it was really beautiful. My heart sprouted hands and in the hands were paintbrushes that drew rainbows in the air with magic soul paint.





We watched some old clips from Sesame Street and it was happening for real.
Liv had no idea what was going on because she was born an adult. Never a baby, sorry. i think she should undergo hypnosis or just become like Micheal Jackson and try to recapture it all it a very creepy way. Rarr Rarr!
Here are a couple of the faves.
HOLY SHIT THIS TOOK ME BAAAAACK!!!! JELLY MAN KELLY!!!!!!! Jenny can ya come???

MY NAME IS YOU! (new york kiddies!)

PATTI LOVES X



How amazing?

Moving on, I decided I wanted to buy a round of drinks downstairs.
We had already noticed the dbags that were trolling around the bar and I got in a few excellent burns. There was actually a guy outside of the hotel wearing one of those silky shirts a la Hot Topic with the flames on the front. I would also like to make an educated guess that his shoes were from Aldo and he jerks off to internet porn of rottweilers fucking chicks.
I was pretty much unstoppable at that point in terms of shit-talking material. If you would like, I am fully willing to give a reenactment of my impression of him.


so we change our minds ad take a little walk to that weird cavernous hookah spot. i really hate that bar but Sterps roommate works there and cheap drinks are kindve like drunk hookups with quasi-hot dudes. Saying no is harder than you thought. Not a joke. At all.
So we dance to really horrible music I kid you not, the dj played Gnarls Barkley. Ok. Well. I have no follow up joke for that. Its actually just a little sad.
We got some good stuff in there, surprisingly we all shook serious ass to Brit Brit when her new shit came on. I dont know if it was the booze or what but I was feeling it. Fuck you, so was everyone else don't judge me.
As per usual, mad dorks approached and hovered which is the grossest thing ever. Don't hover dude you are throwing it all off. I felt the need to be a bitch and create comedy at their expense.
Also I am starting to hate my wrist tattoo because it is one thing men always ask about. Some guy didn't know what a paisley is (obv a GEDbag) and I suggested he go fuck off and google it. Hm. Nice.
I had masses of fun, Jay was there all dressed up which was kindve weird to see. I have nothing else to say re: Jay because I somehow ended up fighting with him over how much I hate the Chinese people in Chinatown. Apparently that makes me a racist? No, I don't hate them because they are Chinese, i hate them because they are filthy child-beating jerks who spit everywhere and walk absurdly slow at inopportune times. Also, they hate me too. NBD just a fact. Whatever, i apologize for being a racist bitch. Or just a general bitch.

Annnnnnnnnd SCENE.

OK so when we got back to the hotel the most important thing is that I beat Sterp in a wrestling match. Fightin Irish. Psht, legendary.
We tried to take pictures laying on the bed, but most of them ended up looking a bit downsyndrome. Liv was funnier than usual and tied my leggings in some knots while they were on my legs. Nautically saavy. Jokes on Krissy. They were hard to untie.

Summary:
Hotels are fun.
James Taylor is wildly charming.
I'm a racist.
Making jokes at the expense of others never gets old.
The elevator at Riv Hotel is fucking weird. And no, you're not the only one who thinks that the "G" meaning ground floor looks exactly like a 6. Confusion abound. Especially once drunk.
Some men still wear camo visors under the assumption that it looks hip. These people should be rounded up and thrown off of a cliff.
The End.

FAM.

My family is amazing.
I had dinner with my Uncle Brian. He is an actual leprechaun. He exists somewhere between life and death, gold and shit, real and unreal. It's pretty unfathomable.

He came in from Hotlanta for the day for work, and kindly put aside some time for me in the dirty dirty LES.
We always have such a lovely time just talking and laughing and wondering what will happen to us.
He's an earth sign too, a Capricorn, and I think thats what makes it all so excellent. He's a genius with booze in his blood just like me, and it makes life so utterly strange to think...am I bugging from the bottle, or is shit REALLY this intense??
He told me a story about when I was just a wee one and i sat on his lap and he knew we were buddies for life.
Thats what Im talkin bout.

He just published a book about the universe. It's called Small Things by Mr Brian Hoffman. He gave me the first copy as a gift. When I opened it, the first thing I thought was...oh my god....Electric Company comes alive. Also, I am not alone. Serio. Big time.









This shit is so epic, I'm not even sure how to describe it. This man is one of my greatest inspirations, and my confidant.
Anyway, we went to get some drink and dinner at Good World around the corner. Stoli for me, and red wine for my fav uncle.
We talked about the struggle of the intelligent. I was pleasantly surprised to find out next year we may very well be traveling to Reykjavik together for a delve into the new and undiscovered. What a doll.
PS I'll be begging for a place to stay, Jette and my baby girl AURORA xoxoxoxoxo
Life is about change and the comfort of the known all at the exact same time. Get used to it, it is quite unavoidable my friends.
Love you fam.
Gettin on tappa yas asap.

sign me up

So LA Jew Josh says I should be a comedy writer. I disagree because in my opinion its all about the delivery. Gotta be spot on or else its a total waste of material.
I know all of you know the reals, that I perform for you at every chance. Maybe I will start a fight with a guy from L.I. waering laceless euro Pumas.
Maybe I will invent a one in a million catch phrase and wait for you to pick it up. Which will hapen. The only phrase I've had no luck getting popculture love for is "I hear that"
Maybe its too pepaw, I dont really know. Speaking of pepaw, how hot is JN?
Jackie forevs.



Back to the issue at hand, I love blogs because it means talking shit.
And I can talk shit for days literally.

Today is a new moon. People need to pay attention and read about this shit. No doubt my next blog topic will be astrology. So look out for that.

Before I head to the couch to watch the always poignant "Boiler Room" episode of My So Called Life I just have to say.

Recap of this weekend:

Got ma hair did by a gay named Jose who said "what?" everytime I said anything to him. I promise you I wanted to shove his very own scissors through his fat conversed foot.

Called the cops on my little brother for assaulting me.

Had a dream about a guy I was dating for a hot second and woke up wanting his head on a stick, sort of like in the opening scene of Bram Stoker Dracula. What a rad movie. I would totally have sex with a wolf vampire in a creepy garden. Oy.
Point is, fuck that guy hes a douche.

Went shopping and found the perfect pair of shoes, purple suede mary jane heels. realized my feet are ginorm. got pissed about it. went home empty handed.

Saw a super rad movie, Lars and the Real Girl.

Go see it. Crying is fun because it makes you feel sensitive. So is laughing. I did both! And Ryan Gosling is a peice if I ever saw one. Although he could use some tattoos and a drinking problem. How dreamy would that be.
This is one of those things where youre like wow people are fucking WEIRD.
Then you realize that just a few hours before you were listening to Al Green alone in your room wearing brown knee socks and boys underwear. And a hat. Because you would rather wear a hat than pants. And theres no way youre turning the heater on. What a waste of money.
Anyway this movie is basically about being a super creep but you know what your people love you. Because youre special. And its cool to do weird shit because its human, and being a human obviously rules. imagine being a fish or something. Grossness.

Who cares. I just got an email that I am going to be an auntie again.
Congrats to me!
Congrats to my big sister Lizzy its about god damn time.

Lovin you God.
I wanna get on tappa yas.