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So here are some pictures of my office* and see you later, internet. My alcohol consumption last night was about four times my usual and I was up til 2:30am talking with S. and our friend and well, I am old. And this has fatigued me. Ever-so-much.
*(Yes, this still-disorganized mess is what it took me almost a week to achieve. Baby steps, America…baby steps…)
This new GNARLS BARKLEY song. That’s what.
You know what else I like? This fucked-up Scopitone featuring some very over-caffeinated, panty-showing dancers whipping around L.A.’s Olvera Street to the strains of “Tijuana Taxi”.
My parents were big Tijuana Brass fans, although it has recently been brought to my attention that Herb Alpert and most of the band members were actually Jewish. Whatever…they fit the suits. (Points if you know from whence that saying comes.) I still have a crazy nostalgia for them, though, and my little brother’s dance to their version of “Zorba the GreeK” is legend in our family. Legend, I say.
Weekend plans are changing – we were expecting two out-of-town guests and it looks like now it may only be one, which is still good. I miss my friends and I’m apparently too lazy or socially retarded to make any here so…waaah waaah waaah, poor me. I’ll pause here so you can all wipe away the tears that are undoubtedly running down your cheeks.
Last night S. and I spent some time at a local bar-type establishment and had a fine time drinking gigantic cheap beers and eating tiny hamburgers – advertised as “sliders” yet strangely edible. Unlike real sliders, which don’t exist down here.
And, um, yeah. I guess I still need to do a bit of housecleaning, since sleeping over at our house involves air mattresses and a floor that is currently covered in dust and cat hair.
…when did he start looking like a cross between Dennis Farina and Captain Kangaroo?
The evidence:
BILL MURRAY
DENNIS FARINA
THE CAPTAIN
Profile ID: XXXXXXX
Title: Invest in america
Project ID: XXXXXX
Category: Writing / Editing / Translation
Description:
I go around to homeless shelters and give the homeless an oppurtunity
to produce an income at the same time become political activist. I
produce postcards to mail to politicians. I will use the grant to buy
the post cards to give to the homless shelters to give them an
oppurtuntity to work.
I am tempted to write this guy and ask to see a sample of the postcards. I’m sure they’re filled with conspiracy theories, tales of alien abduction or generic batshit-crazy rantings.
I’m feeling queasy today and this hasn’t been helped by having to clean up the remains of Stevie’s victims or the link my friend forwarded to me featuring pictures of Warren Jeffs and two of his child brides. (Warning – the pics are disturbing.) Ack.
My office re-do is almost complete and while it is still a mishmash of styles and packing boxes and crap I really should throw out, it is looking better. I’ve stacked up packing boxes and covered them with cheap bedspreads to turn them into shelving (it works better than you might think). I’ll post some pics when it’s completely done.
Books I’m reading this week:
Thinking In Pictures by Temple Grandin (about halfway through)
Girls Like Us by Sheila Weller (about a quarter of the way through)
What It Is by Lynda Barry (savoring in small doses, like a bag of really good Halloween candy)
Other books on my nightstand:
Einstein by Walter Isaacson (I’m on a biographical kick lately)
Dream Boogie: The Triumph of Sam Cooke by Peter Guralnick (Like I said)
Censored 2008: The Top 25 Censored News Stories of 2006-7 by Peter Phillips and Andrew Roth (Sure to depress and enrage me, but I want to read it anyway.)
Bad Monkeys by Matt Ruff (Recommended by Rock Star)
The Encyclopedia of Religious Phenomena by J. Gordon Melton (Which from a cursory glance looks more like a dictionary of bullshit – there are entries on ectoplasm, among other debunked things – but should be an entertaining read nonetheless.)
That’s all I have for you today, America. T to the ally to the ho.
A pattern is emerging in the killings. The killer appears to employ great skill in decapitating his victims. He is somehow managing to chew the heads without disturbing the victims’ brains. He also appears to favor certain organ meats over others, often leaving the lungs or liver while devouring the kidneys. The killer appears not to fear discovery, as his killings are conducted on the lighted front porch of a house while the occupants are at home. Such brazen behavior indicates deep sociopathy – the killer is flaunting his skill – daring us to catch him. Analysis of the location and manner in which his victims indicates that he is leaving his victims as an offering to some unknown entity. If he is not caught soon, it is almost certain that his killings will continue at this level of frequency and viciousness, if not escalate.
On our way back from Dallas Sunday, we saw an ad for a place called BLESSED AND GRATEFUL . They put what they consider to be inspirational slogans on t-shirts and mugs, etc. My two favorites are “Made a decision.” and “Contempt prior to investigation”, which I’m hoping they might adapt for me as “Made a decision to think for myself.” and “Contempt prior to investigation followed by mockery.”
I was describing this to my sister and she reminded me of a conversation we had recently in which we were expressing our derisive opinions on the LEFT BEHIND series of books, one of which had made it into her home via an inattentive trip to the library by her husband. We both agreed that being left behind would be wholly preferable to being here (or anywhere else) with a bunch of idiots.
Not much else to report – I’m in one of my bi-annual cleaning/reorganizing snits and I could tell you all about the storage issues in this house but…I won’t. Instead, I will keep cleaning and dream of the day when I’m left behind and I’ll finally have enough room for all my precious stuff.
Later, yo.
So, we drove up to the greater Dallas-Fort Worth area this weekend. That involves a straight shot up I-35, which has to be one of the bleakest drives in the state. You pass through miles of uninteresting suburbs and small cities like Waco, one Chili’s and Walmart blending into the next. There are a few saving graces along the way, like the CZECH STOP but that’s about it.
The party was a blast – these friends have, since our college days, been the absolute best party-throwers I have ever known. One of the hosts works in a job with very strict dress regulations and since it was his birthday, the theme was to try to break as many of the regs as possible via costumes. It was interesting that most of the women, including me, chose to dress like skanks. S. was rocking some bad 80’s hair and clothing but he and one other guy were the only two who really tried. A friend of the party hosts crimped my hair for me and it was frightening. How frightening? This frightening. (S.’s face looks kinda dark…hmmm…) 
If any of you ladies wants to borrow this outfit, you let me know. The hair crimper was left in Dallas but I would be happy to procure it for you. Nothing says “white trash slut” quite like crimped hair.
There were also cute pups in attendance, one of whom would have spent the entire day and evening in the pool if we’d let her. 
And here’s an example of what not to pack for your next airline trip. In case you needed some help with that kind of thing. 
GO AWAY, LIZ. Please. And take your self-proclaimed ‘classic’ with you.
