Friday, October 31, 2008

Thursday, October 30, 2008


Last night I dreamt I was having sex with Heath Ledger. It got kind of awkward when I told him I was sorry he died. It got even more awkward when he turned into John Lovitz.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Halloweeeeeen, and the Art of Expression.

My BFF Valerie and I are really into finding cool comic chicks. She sent me a link to this girl's blog today. Her name is Kate Beaton, and she's pretty great. Observe:

(click to enlarge.)

Her blog.
Her website.

We also had a conversation like so:


yea, what chicks comin outta the woodwork
we MUST be PARTY to it

omg, she is so funny
i love it

yea, its always Half inspiring, half kick-in-the-ass to come across a chick like this


(Insert convo about our own top secret projects here)

oh man, i cant read any more of this chicks stuff, she is stealing my material... talking to saints
course mine was for a more linear situation in the justin book, which i havent drawin in ... in ....weeks.. months..
i cant tell if her website is inspiring or depressing

pssht, whatever miss pixar.

im not asking for PITY
man, this is nuts though how much these online comic people put out.
what the crap.
though.. when you do it for a job all day, it makes things different
but the paycheck is a nice trade-off


cause... eating is good too

it's so funny
artists are hilarious
it doesnt matter how successful you are
or how happy
when you see something that is cool
it always makes you go
"oh geez! dang it! how did they do that?! i need to do that!"

haha, yea its true
its this need to constantly be part of the self-expressing i guess

i was explaining that to my friend jacob.

maybe its narcissistic

eh, only a little
i think it is more
"wow, they are saying what i was trying to say!"

but there is a feeling like, if you dont make anything for a while you are slacking off on your destiny
or your mission


(Please also note that we consistently type our laughter like super villains.)

Support Families.

Watch The Xtacles on Adult Swim (Cartoon Network), on Sunday November 9th.

Then my brother can keep his job and feed his family.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Peppermint soap

is sensational.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

To Do:

1. Propose untraditional marriage.

2. Relocate cervix.

3. Get lost in Culver City.

4. Chocolate lava cake with raspberries.

5. Recount life story, in sixty minutes or less.

6. Discuss the Underpants Problem.

7. Go to sleep satisfied.

8. Go to sleep with hope and assurance.

With Wendy as my witness.

Sometimes being an adult is pure suck. But sometimes, like tonight, it means leaving your house at eleven eleven pm in your dead grandmother's cardigan, sitting in a diner for over two hours with your best friend, and emptying every chamber of your heart onto her plate.

(Trust is the angels that fed the handless maiden pears from the King's orchard in the medianoche.)

Saturday, October 25, 2008


boy - clothes + cookies = CHRISTMAS?!

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Grocery Shopping

i said your name
by mistake

and spontaneously burst
into tears
in the grocery store
in the produce section

as an eighties power ballad
plays polaroid
of the break up


I left my wallet
in the car
asked the cashier to
hold my things

and drove home instead
holding it
in my mouth


Monday, October 20, 2008

A gentle reminder to self,

on this the first day of our period.

Do not go to the municipal swimming pool. The lady at the front desk will ask to see your student ID, and you will show it to her. But then she will flip it over and ask why you don't have a current semester sticker. You will try to explain that they have never sent you your stickers to prove current enrollment; not since two years ago. She will then do her job, shake her head disapprovingly, and tell you that you need to get your stickers. You will assume she thinks you are lying, and get incredibly attitudinal. She will then ask if you are a resident, and you will say yes, but then realize you left your driver's license at home, because that is how you roll. The lady will again take pause, as is procedure, and you will become a martyr and declare that you will just go home and get it for her, since it is sooooo important. You will balk at her authority, and throw a molotov cocktail in her face.

Well, maybe not that last part, but you will want to. Then she will let you in "just this once," and wrap the wristband around your arm like you are a disobedient child. You will feel patronized, violent, and have a really crappy swim.

You will cry because your dance injuries are worse, and because your dog ran away in the seventh grade. But no one will see your tears. Because you are in a swimming pool.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Red Handed

For some time now, I've hid the guilty pleasure of listening to Paramore. Never played in front of others, only on my "workout" playlist, and a secret joy when it comes on the radio when I am driving by myself.

I am hiding it no longer. Their new song, Decode, is awesome. It is featured on the Twilight soundtrack. Twilight for heaven's sake! Teenage girls and vampires making out! Ridiculous. But whatever, this song is awesome. It perfectly captures the feeling of being a seventeen year old girl in America.

And being a seventeen year old girl in America feels like flying on a trapeze, thousands of feet in the air, straight through a thunderstorm.

Friday, October 17, 2008


So the music, costumes, and a couple parts of the choreography are a little pageanty, but a lot of the choreography is really good. And they are amputees. C'mon. I am so terrified of even losing my pinky finger. Way to express, yo.

Friday, October 3, 2008

No Context

Emstar: Who else is doing that right now?

Sara: Someone in South Korea... maybe in a karaoke bar.

Emstar: No. A cabaret. They are in a cabaret in South Korea, and one is transgendered and the other has no legs.


Richmond, VA. 2001ish. The Fan, Matthew and Ricardo's apartment, between Harvey and Plum.

Math-athew and I hung out even when we got on each other's nerves. That afternoon, we both sat on the busted couch, in the apartment at the end of the creepy hallway, with that smell I can never describe but will always recognize.

Matthew picked up his out of tune guitar and sang all of Lucky by Radiohead. Into my armpit.

I was probably late for dance class. (Afro-Caribbean. Or maybe Jazz. The Jazz class where I was so nervous my lips wouldn't stop trembling for the first two weeks.)