April 2004 Archives
The world sometimes looks better from a taxi.
During one particularly boring day in high school physics, I sat towards the back of the classroom talking with my friends in hushed tones so that our voices wouldn't rise above the monotonous tone of our teacher and signal our disinterest. The question-of-the-day was: if you could be a super-hero, who would you be?
The girl with the pet ball of wax (they were inseparable) wanted to be invisible and able to stop time. The boy to my right wanted to be able to levitate ... not fly ... just levitate. Me? I aimed my wrists in my best Spiderman-like-imitation at the blackboard and whispered much to the delight of my friends, 'I want to be ... [insert dramatic pause] ... Stigmata Man!'
Unfortunately, my teacher heard this, and although I didn't get detention (this time), I was 'encouraged to complete a mandatory extra-credit assignment'.
A few days ago, I noticed that I was starting to develop a small hole in the palm of my hand. In actuality, it is more like a split right in the center of my life-line. I still can't decide. My life is either coming to a major decision point ... or I am about to realize my dreams and finally become ... yes, you guessed it, Stigmata Man. I gotta get on making a costume ...
The girl with the pet ball of wax (they were inseparable) wanted to be invisible and able to stop time. The boy to my right wanted to be able to levitate ... not fly ... just levitate. Me? I aimed my wrists in my best Spiderman-like-imitation at the blackboard and whispered much to the delight of my friends, 'I want to be ... [insert dramatic pause] ... Stigmata Man!'
Unfortunately, my teacher heard this, and although I didn't get detention (this time), I was 'encouraged to complete a mandatory extra-credit assignment'.
A few days ago, I noticed that I was starting to develop a small hole in the palm of my hand. In actuality, it is more like a split right in the center of my life-line. I still can't decide. My life is either coming to a major decision point ... or I am about to realize my dreams and finally become ... yes, you guessed it, Stigmata Man. I gotta get on making a costume ...
Looking to pornstars for new haircut inspiration is never a good idea (just in case you were wondering).
Four out of the ten times I rode the subway this week, I was 'delayed' in the stairway going down to the turnstiles and missed the train - resulting in me having to wait a grand total of 18 minutes for the next train. All four times, I delayed by women unable to walk in their high heels down stairs. This is fair warning: next time I'm gonna push, bitch. If you can't wear heels, throw the $400 pair of fuckers out and buy a pair of flats - OR - give Nomi DeMilo a call and have her teach you how to walk.
What could I have been doing this week that was so important that I missed Gilmore Girls Gone Wild??!!
My recent addiction has me counting down the days til I can watch Colonial House.
As I was painting this morning, I thought back to one of my art school critiques. The project was an installation that included some photography, sculpture, and a bucket filled with 'blood'. The crit focused, of course, on the bucket.
Teacher: (dipping her fingers into the bucket and then holding them up to the class) This project would be OK if he actually got the color right. You really should know by now that blood is actually more of a brown color. This is way too red. You need to study your color wheel a bit more closely. You should have mixed some more green paint in there ...
Me: Um ... Actually ...
Teacher: [holding her red hand up to silence me] You know there's no talking til the end of your crit ... [insert 4 minutes of talking] ... Now, if you'd like to respond ...
Me: Um. Well. Um. I didn't actually use paint. I used real blood.
Teacher: [uncomfortable pause] ... I guess I should wash my hand then.
Me: Yeah. That'd probably be a good idea.
Gotta love art school.
Teacher: (dipping her fingers into the bucket and then holding them up to the class) This project would be OK if he actually got the color right. You really should know by now that blood is actually more of a brown color. This is way too red. You need to study your color wheel a bit more closely. You should have mixed some more green paint in there ...
Me: Um ... Actually ...
Teacher: [holding her red hand up to silence me] You know there's no talking til the end of your crit ... [insert 4 minutes of talking] ... Now, if you'd like to respond ...
Me: Um. Well. Um. I didn't actually use paint. I used real blood.
Teacher: [uncomfortable pause] ... I guess I should wash my hand then.
Me: Yeah. That'd probably be a good idea.
Gotta love art school.
For all you guys that want to get in the Easter Spirit but don't want to fork over your 10 bucks to Mel Gibson - head on down to Daniel Nardicio's Magnum at 13 Little Devils for a live crucifixion at 1am. It's bound to be hot - and I'd be there if I didn't already see the crucifixion over the summer. They even promise a 'second coming' later in the evening. I can only wonder what that means ....
From the BBC's Keeping up Appearances:
Why do I wake up craving a fag and not a banana?
What a good question, indeed!
Why do I wake up craving a fag and not a banana?
What a good question, indeed!
On my way to toss my trash out in the back yard, I opened my mailbox and got some good news - recycling is back! Finally, I can toss all of my wine bottles, empty containers of lotion, and wire hangers into the happy blue bins. Wait a second ... wire hangers? Who recycles wire hangers?
Today, I got the dirtiest Easter card ever:
Thinking of youI can only hope ...
at Easter time
and hoping it will bring
A lot of special pleasures
you'll enjoy remembering!
Rule # 246: Do not shave when you are tired.
My experience can be summed up in the following phrase:
Where the fuck did my side-burn go?!
My experience can be summed up in the following phrase:
Where the fuck did my side-burn go?!
