who?
august sixteen | one thirty ante meridiem
If you, like everyone else, vant some taquitos, then you should listen to the webcast from KSPC today (Friday the 16th) between 4-6 pm Pacific time. I will be burning incense and trying to stop Jessica from slitting her wrists and writing paens to Warren Ellis on the studio walls in her own blood. You can request that we play the freaky song of your choice by IMing kspcdj or calling the number listed on the web page. WE VILL EVISCERATE YOUR EARZ.
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august fourteen | two forty five post meridiem
HOLY SHIT I'M EMPLOYED. Multitask that, motherfuckers!
So far today is the best day I've had in a long time. It's been such a good day, I'm not even going to close the italics tag! HAHAHAHAHA!!! The phone woke me up at 8 o'clock this morning (after only having been asleep for 3.5 hours). It was the guy in charge of hiring for a position I'd applied to; he posted the opening two weeks ago, and then promptly went on vacation. He semi-frantically asked me if I could come in for an interview. "Sure," I said. "OK, be here in one hour!" Like so many of the "interviews" I've had, this one was basically an opportunity for them to verify that I was real and not a holographic illegal extraterrestrial, and then have me fill out mounds of paperwork. It's an unglamorous job working for a state agency (though not the ones who do international work, which is what I was hoping for), and I'm going to have to quickly learn a lot of engineering terminology, but GODDAMNIT it's a job. I'm excited to no longer have to be mooching off my parents, but mostly I'm thrilled that finally my life has some kind of timeline. It's a six month position, which is exactly the length of time I'd planned to spend here. I can now start applying for international teaching jobs, or TEFL courses, or whatever, knowing that I will have the resources with which to do these things at a specific point in time. I can make plans beyond just writing tomorrow's cover letters. God this is nice.
So what's a better way to celebrate than to buy a cheap last minute plane ticket to sunny Southern California? Hooray bankruptcy! I am going to spent the next four days cavorting with two wonderful people, and get a tan, and swim in the ocean, and kiss the Egypt Conspiracy man at Venice Beach, and buy Disneyland, and snort boba teas, and pimp hos, and camp out in front of Morrissey's house, and and and...
In fact, I believe my sentiments can best be expressed by quoting one of our classical South Central poets, who said:
Today I didn't even have to use my AK
I got to say it was a good day
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august thirteen | one ten ante meridiem
Today, while working on the script for her project, I discovered that TheMaenad�s current boyfriend has kids. Not babies, but kids. What is going on here? Why do all of my ex�s suddenly decide to shack up with men at least ten years their seniors, and especially ones who have kids? This is not normal, I tell you. She�s 21 years old! Does this mean that when I am 35 and have sown my seed and have failed to maintain relationships and work in a door factory I too will be able to date 21 year olds? Wow, life never looked so good.
OK, I�m an ass, and he�s probably a nice guy, but� Jesus. This is the THIRD TIME this has happened. Is my sperm too bashful for all of you or something? Are the crows feet under my eyes not creased enough? Should I make a herd of 3 ft. animatronic doe-eyed brats to show off my paternal penis power? Do I not wake up in the morning reeking of that pungent old man smell you so obviously crave? Watch out: should you ever have the misfortune to date me, I will leave you with the quicksilver thirst for DADDY in your mouth.
Gnash snarl growl snort moo.
I�m listening to my favorite song of the moment, �The Vogue� by Miss Kittin & Antonelli Electric. �Favorite� is saying a lot, since I also recently downloaded the new Luomo 12�, which is just as stunning as the crinkling hazy phased bubble machine that was Vocalcity (haha that�s the most S. Reynoldsian sentence I�ve evah written). (Crinkle! It�s the new glitch! You heard it here first!) It�s a bit lusher and more discofied (or, err, �Diskonized�) than the earlier stuff, so I guess he�s following MRI into shrinking the micro and swelling the house (I always had more fun calling it Eine Kleine Hausmusik anyway). Fortunately it avoids the cut-and-paste electro sty Swayzak have fallen into. Grrr. Fischerspooner and Futurism have a lot to answer for.
Anyway, �The Vogue�. I like it for stupid reasons: the butterfly synth figure, the 303 bass (I�m on an acid house kick lately), the nothing lyrics (The vogue / The vogue is everywhere / In Moscow and Madrid / In Rome and Reykjavik / and Tokyo�). Mostly I like it for the casual pace; it�s so unhurried and, with Kittin�s marionette sing-speak, it�s like a lazy Sunday for the jet set -- �Oh, I could go voguing London or Paris, but really, I�d rather just lounge in the herbarium and sip pink martinis�� Which is my life exactly. Of course.
I will leave you with this, so its utter hilarity and total adorableness will make you forget I said mean things about people I still like very much.
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