So…this just happened.
This poem and I are having a secret affair lately. I’m bad at secrets, turns out.
This story made me snort coffee with coconut milk out of my nose. “I SIT ON SINK I IZ INVISIBAAAAALLS!”
I deactived my Facebook account on Monday, partially because I am tired of passive-aggressive behavior in general (for whatever reason, EVERYONE seems unwilling to just say what they mean and let it be done, and I find that exhausting and frustrating. Words. They’re easy.) and partially because I wanted to see how it effected me, ala Louis CK’s bit on cell phones and how we use them as emotional bandaids.
Sounds about right.
I’ve been accused of hating all holidays. Untrue. I like thanking service members on Veteran’s Day by parking my car outside the Veteran’s Housing building and putting a banner on my car.
John Boehner is seriously the worst human being I am aware of. Is there anyone other then white, straight, healthy, rich men that he is OK with?
Today I: got my hairs all purdyed bought new paints for my face AND a new outfit, watched “A Band Called Death,” (cried at the footage of Rough Francis’s first Monkey House show. I told Bobby Sr that night that I was a real fan of the people he has raised, and the music he made.) Considered the persistence and patience of time. I wish every day was like this one…25 hours.
NEVER GIVE UP MOUSE (by Павел Головков)
My favorite part is where he says “Fuck this,” takes a bite, is like “Well, I got a bite of cracker. That’s a pretty good day,” and gives up and then is like “THAT CRACKER WAS DELICIOUS. I AM REJUVENATED BY THE POWER OF THE CRACKER. THAT CRACKER IS MIIIIINE.”