for once in my life the universe, internet and weird wall patterns have joined forces for this blog.
As much as my roommates and I just LOVE burning the midnight oil, literally, burning away our sweet sweet overflowing natural gases, taking our saunas in the fossil fuel foyer, marinating our spicy tuna casserole dinner’s with gasoline, bathing in golden honey and popping endless bronze bottles of champagne whilst we give each other deep tissue massages with coal and whiten our teeth with our leftover diamond dust, I somehow find it difficult to believe that our electric bill circa June-July 2008 AD comes to the measly total of 872 dollars. it’s like their fucking coloring us as mercury Monks over here, Jane Do-Goodalls…As if we were the type to turn off our bejeweled fans from the (million) dollar store every time our driver picks us up.
Laugh all you want, you crunchy electric saving monger company, but I personally refuse to accept this low a bill. in fact, not only is it insulting- it’s downright embarrassing. Why don’t you just swallow your pride, and ask for the charity which you know we owe you. all fucking thirty two (thousand) dollars.
Ya Damn Straight, Magoo!
As tradition would have it, I am still in North Carolina and went for a walk at sunset. I walked so far on the beach, I walked until the edge of town and then I kept walking. I put my hands next to my face to see the view without obstruction and then laughed at myself like I was a horse with blinders on… but when I got out past all of the lights and people and dogs and beach trash I started doing all these stretches and bends and tried to balance myself so that 50% of my view was the water and 50% of my view was the beach and the dunes.
I felt a little embarrassed at the thought of someone standing behind me, taking a picture and laughing at some ass hole practicing poorly formed Tai Chi. Then, I thought, if this were a group of twenty-thiry-somethings in spandex on acid, it’d be cool. so, in retaliation to my imaginary voyeur I did a shitty cartwheel which subsequently hurt my back.
who taught who a lesson here?
OH-also,I’ve been “fishing” with my brother (he’s only caught sharks thus far) and he kindly refers to me as ‘bait girl’. But, yesterday I saw a fishermen catch a seagull on his line and watched as he wrestled it and it writhed in his hands as his young son looked on. when he finally set it free, i clapped.
^^^^this rules and rules again.
i am currently on hiatus in north carolina, in accordance with aforementioned video. AH HA! but! the “animated” “short” that Shelgeson (Shelly Helgeson) and I have worked on, “I’m too sexy for sex” is playing at the Nuyorican Cafe (236 3d Ave, between aves. B and C tomorrow, in a fund raiser from 7-10 (monday the 28th) go and tell me how it is!
Estelle Getty, aka the sassiest TV character ever known to grace the daytime silverscreen, Sophia Petrillo on The Golden Girls
died today. A brilliant comedienne. A beautiful actress. A weird character who, although the same age as the rest of the cast, played their elderly mother figure. May her legacy of endless complaining live on to haunt the future generations who will care for in-laws and elderly relatives.
Peter Rodger’s long-time-coming documentary Oh My God is due to be released this fall (I know the website sucks) but I have to wonder if he,like so many people working on trailers,treatments and tribulations, is just bluffing? Or is there actually a chance this film might succeed in answering the question it seems to be asking, let alone in it’s release.
(with better res here)
The music of the trailer is so saccharine that it distracts me from the cinematography, which almost as soon as it began I had to stop from thinking back to Nanook of the North arguably the first ‘ethnographic‘ documentary.