i tried to buy cat food and the CVS was out of the shit for something like the ninth consecutive time. i should have sacked up and ridden my bike to the grocery store that i think has it but i don’t want to be out of doors right now, not that it isn’t nice outside. i think steady work made me bland. time to toughen up. instead i am going to lay back and listen to EPMD and read foulmouthed novels.
a dude with a baby lion. they just got out of one of those weird giant-engined racing planes from the 30s and 40s (performed by men in bikini thongs on roller skates). i wanted to write a short story about the flying lion but then i forgot about it. that was 14 months ago, and i have forgotten many other things since.
picture number two is the original, actual death mask of U.S. president james garfield. this was in a box labeled “death mask.” that’s my hand. it’s even creepier than that in 3D. his beard is all TVed up and matted. also, he had tiny woman hands.
this is the inside of a dollhouse. tiny 19th century american guy to world: “you got the wrong house motherfucker. you tell them real estate people we ain’t selling.” (i will buy the first person to identify the source of that quote some banilla yogurt)
plastic horse + jet engine + cell phone = culture
eye contact
other plastic horses, enraged:
fun fact: abe lincoln did an inflammatory ad for canada dry in autumn 1864, the premise of which involved dipping himself in chocolate and telling a puerile joke about being a fudgsicle for halloween.
more to come on all fronts. over 40% of all people are fake-tanned hookers, according to today’s straw poll. if you are a iraqi and you don’t celebrate american thanksgiving, then you get blown up on american thanksgiving, do you A) know B) care that other people are bothered more by it.
collected recommendations from last few weeks:
Keep the Aspidistra Flying :: the saddest shit I ever read, because it’s more or less what the rest of my life is going to be like. i think I’ll go drink some lake water and try to see if i can catch TB.
The Ginger Man (the novel, not the shitty bar in Chicago that Steve got me kicked out of)
Sports coat(s)
i came back from Vancouver. below are some drawrings, filtered through my cell phone, of what i seen. i have some pictures that are less shitty Steve (only a few). what i learned was: i can use my phone as an actual camera (these are the small versions), and taking pictures outdoors in 100% cloud cover doesn’t work that well. vancouver is the future, but you have to remember that the future is not automatically 100% made of good ideas. something about slutting it up with a big red belt, etc etc.
other big news: i voted today, for the first time. for the illinois-area fans, both Rod “Skullface” Blagojevich and Judy Baar Topinka got the finger. instead, the Green party guy got a vote. To be honest, the Klan could have run a candidate for governor for IL and soaked up 10% of the vote, so don’t go and shit the bed making plans for ‘08, Green Party. I also voted for Lisa Madigan, for a guy whose listed name was Jerry “Iceman” Butler, and for A) no assault weapons B) raising the minimum wage C) immediate withdrawl from Iraq. First time I’ve ever participated in our democracy, and it was mostly because I walked by the polling place by accident, and had been registered automatically when i got an IL driver’s license in september. secret excitement: i get to add an airport to the list.
This goose did not suffer from social anxiety. In fact, he was about to give me the jim everett treatment if i didn’t get out from between him and people eating clam chowder. May have been a girl actually. As I went about taking this picture, a middle-aged canadian woman told me not to try to pet the goose.
This is me, laying on the kitchen floor, with Bruce. I’m not sure when i turned into such a (redacted).
This was about as sunny as it got after the first day in vancouver. view from 19th floor of the surprisingly dingy vancouver hyatt.
badger graffiti. this was by some abandoned railroad tracks by the fish wharf. where i went to get fish from the fish shack.
this was a barstruant of some type. i like dogs?
i wrote this on my hand and then loudly announced my intention to get a cupcake, because i wanted people to read my hand and explain the deal with this guy at a halloween party. he was dressed up as (i think) an organ grinder’s monkey, except he was wearing tights and lipstick and was engaged in an overly serious (and overly fucking weird) confabulation with someone.
view of the recently acquired novelty ashtray promoted from rockefeller chapel. the soy milk is for scale. also recently acquired by me: understand that silk is not merely an accurate description of the product’s texture, but a pun on soy milk. please note also that paul konerko is mr. november on the 2006 white sox calendar.
sex refs. hard to explain, but i wanted you all to know just the same.
I’m not that hard to impress; i remembered that today when i caught myself marveling the fact that McDonald’s in Canada is bilingual (PS i ate at McDonald’s today. And Tim Hortons, which has no apostrophe).
vancouver, at least during the first day i was here (the only day that it wasn’t raining and freezing cold) is actually in the 21st century, which i guess other people are more accustomed to or less put off by. chicago (this is one of the reasons i prize chicago and specifically hyde park) still seems to exist in the 20th century, more or less at some moment in between 1974 and the Challenger explosion (1985? 1986?). i need to put some critical thought into this. right now i’m back on the damn west coast. this isn’t part of the real world. is it? also, skiing and other leisure sports: seriously, get the fuck out of here. genuine interest in skiing a lot: 90+% indicator of evil spirits living in your head. for serious. when does baseball season start again?
discussion topics:
1. my self-identification as a native of illinois: skyrocketing. strangely, this is only reflected in A) my driver’s license B) sports fan loyalty C) disparaging comments about NE Ohio
2. music: if everyone agrees to stop paying attention, will people please stop making rock music? we have enough. also, whatever happens, no more brooding white indie rappers. this is only encouraging people. it’s only a matter of time before one of the olsen twins is buying anticon and releasing mixtapes. please.
3. academics: being at these conferences is like watching the concept of personal grooming personified and then beaten to death with a two by four. i know i already talked about but this, but it’s almost worth the trip just to see some of these people. we’re*this close* to my dream of seeing someone in a knee-length tunic carrying a sword. you have no idea.
4. Canada: this is a real country, i am realizing.
