Monday, April 23, 2007

watching 'taxicab confessions' on mute is just as good as with the sound on, i am currently discovering.


been busy. distracted and sad about the doggy and busy. quitting smoking really fucking sucks and drives you insane (like, i have no attention span and i swear to god i think i have a slight stutter now, and i am emotionally a little bit fwagile). but it is also really easy, because all you do is not smoke. it's been 21 days. whoot.

sp told me that she wanted to look at a link on my blog this weekend but didn't have it bookmarked at home, so she searched for "bad tattoo cigarette unicorn" and, as she said, "oddly enough, your page was the first one that came up." that's rad. i might get a tattoo to celebrate my quitting smoking - it will be a unicorn made out of cigarettes. or a unicorn smoking. or how about a unicorn whose horn is a camel light . . .

sp also sent this to me and asked if this means that we have to hate tv on the radio now. i say no, but it does sort of make me weep a little bit. i'm sure that rep. mchenry sang along to "dry drunk emperor." to his credit, at least he wasn't trying to dress like a normal person going to see a band.

jmk sent this and said "if there is a god, it wants her dead." no shit.

rm sent me a website called "contemptster" that is a lot like jc's blog, les misc. i like this page. i promise that i will never be this person. if anything, if i am staring at you it's because i am jealous.

do you want to see where your taxes go? i mean, it's unpleasant, you know. click here. from jmk.

tb sent this to me because, as my three-years-older-brother, he witnessed my militant devotion to sassy and knows that i still revere it as one of the very few influences i had for a life beyond the lameness that was growing up in a rural wisconsin town. (growing up pre-internet was hard, yo). while other 14-year-olds i knew were breeding pigs for the 4-H fair and buying stone washed jeans at fashion bug, i was desperately awaiting the day i could pack up my michael stipe posters and cure t-shirts and get the fuck out of there. i was once made fun of for wearing a hole shirt, and not even because courtney is a horrible person - it was black with a silver heart and said hole in red glitter using the barbie font, and some fried-permed loser who is probably now the mommy of four and divorced was like "your shirt is dumb. you have a hole in your heart?" nice try, tard. anyway, jane magazine triedtriedtried and really just sucksucksucked, and i am so over how self-obsessed jane pratt is ("i fucked drew barrymore once!!! just like every other famous person in 1992!!!"), but sassy was fucking rad and i know that my parents are counting down the days until i finally remove all of the plastic storage bins containing the detritus of my youth from their basement, including about five years' worth of sassy magazines. the book has its own website here.

ecf sent this out, citing how bad it has gotten for the bush administration when the brigham young kids are protesting you, and i totally understood this article until the last sentence, which totally blew my mind in its awesomeness and incomprehensibility. best quote EVER.

taking the protest to the street. err, the interstate. click here.

okay, time for bed. going to dc on wednesday for six days. nice.

palooka


tb adopted a beautiful, sweet, smart, energetic, loving, stealthy purebred german shephard that he named palooka when he was in college. the photos of when he first brought her home are some of the cutest things you'll ever see - they both look like babies. when he moved to chicago he couldn't take her along and our parents begrudgingly agreed to take her until he figured out what to do with her. of course, they totally fell in love with her. they basically considered that dog their fourth kid. these pictures are two of my all-time favorites - my dad and pooks in the front yard. they were good friends. she had to be put to sleep yesterday. we're all taking it really hard.


Thursday, April 12, 2007

ps: i'm kidding about the "give me presents" thing.


i had 99 visitors to scissors happy yesterday. and this is because people do google image searches for tattoos (it's funny to read the search queries when i check my site meter - bad tattoos and worst tattoos and unicorn tattoos). apparently, people are very interested in researching other people's ink (as am i). this horrible tattoo i posted not too long ago gets viewed a lot. to keep the trend going, here is a really really stupid tattoo. maybe i'll hit 100 visitors now.

i haven't smoked in 11 days. i don't miss cigarettes. i don't even think about it all that often anymore (those first few days were brutal, but it has since tapered off). it's because of the chantix. i will be on it for at least two months, and by that time i doubt that i will have any big desires to go waste my money on the only legal product that, when used correctly, kills you. also: i don't want to become one of those self-righteous ex-smokers, because god knows i loved smoking, and i doubt that i will ever be able to have a cup of tea or a beer without thinking that it would be SO MUCH BETTER if i could just have a cig with it, but all that's over.

one very sad element to my quitting smoking is that no one has given me any "congratulations" presents yet. i'm sorry, but this was about four hundred times harder than graduating from high school, and i recall that i got lots of great shit when i did that.

more details have emerged from the ladyastronaut's arrest: not only is she into wearing a diaper, she also likes bondage. ah, journalists who usually cover nasa finally have something to write about that people are interested in.

i'm sorry, but tony randall having babies at the age of 77 (with his 26-year-old wife, no less) is just gross. here is an article about old men having kids who will never get to be adults and have their dads around (but it probably helps that they're all wealthy). the photo of the dad (age 69) with his daughter (age 10) on page 2 is funny/creepy - is he dead already? also, i really like the article's title - to the point, and unintentionally funny.

i found a link off of mj's blog called "how many of me?" - you enter your first and last name and see how many people in the US have your name. as for my first name, there are 76,903 of us. for the last name, 16,527. however, there are only 4 people with the same name as me. (one of them, i'd like to point out, registered our name as her URL, and she is a no-nonsense-looking real estate agent in ohio). i checked out pos' name, as his, i would think, would be more common, but only 9,530 people in america have his last name (less than i would think) and there are 19 people with his full name (his first name is pretty common - 591,094). i decided to test the website's accuracy, so i typed in jc's full name, as she has a very unusual and pretty name, and it said that there were 0 people with her first name and therefore 0 people with her full name in america. i know that this is false because i see her almost every day and she does indeed exist. so take it for what it's worth and check it out, if only for fucking-around-wasting-time purposes.


the lollapalooza 2007 lineup was announced. random list, but awesome. looking forward to seeing quite a few of these bands for the first time, especially amy winehouse, regina spektor, and iggy & the stooges, plus lots of really great bands that i have seen before and love love love. my peeps from new york are coming out for the weekend, including rm, who i don't think has been to chicago before. i promise to make her love it, and to feed her corndogs.


i am not excited for pearl jam as a headliner (zzzzzzz) and thought it was funny to see silverchair on the list. in other 1992 news, pos and i saw chris cornell at the metro last night. he has a gorgeous voice (and face) - i have him doing "ave maria" and it's really beautiful - and it was fun to hear a random sampling of soundgarden, audioslave and solo stuff (including a cover of "billie jean"). got to hear "burden in my hand," which i love. however, i don't know what the metro was thinking - the show was clearly over-sold. there were packs of people standing everywhere - spilling out of the room and blocking the stairs, filling up all of the bar areas, and the balcony was about six people deep. we ended up on the floor but scrunched into a corner back by a bar, but i could barely see, and i am a tall person. i love going to shows, and i don't mind if it's crowded, but that was retarded-packed. so the show was just okay. as pos said, it just made him miss his old bands.


i love kurt vonnegut and i am very sorry that he died. i feel guilty for putting him on my dead pool list, but so it goes (his death makes my grand total 100 now - about 50 points away from being in first place). i'm going to re-read some of my favorite vonneguts this year (the best is welcome to the monkeyhouse, a flawless collection of short stories). lots of good obits and tributes are out - check out this one, which te sent me, and the ny times article.


umm, why was it snowing yesterday?

Monday, April 09, 2007

Sunday, April 08, 2007

ecf sent this out "to all the christians in the house"


chocolate knows no boundaries, ecf.

you should probably bookmark this page. get you through the day a little faster.

god, animal people are fucking freaks.

that was mean. sorry to be a bitch on jesus' born-again day.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

possible side effects include sudden mood swings and super bitchiness.


who's afraid of virginia woolf? is my favorite play, and i had never seen it performed. i was sooo ecstatic when the broadway revival came to chicago for, like, two weeks. kathleen turner as martha? fucking rads! i bought pos and i tickets and we went last night, after he bought me a very nice dinner, and there was utter madness at the schubert theater (it was purchased by la salle bank and is now referred to as the la salle bank theater, but homie don't play that corporate re-naming shit), because kathleen was sick and her understudy was playing her role. hundreds of people were crammed into the lobby and in lines to get refunds or exchanges for a different performance (the chicago run ends on like saturday, so i don't know when these people think they're going to be attending). we ended up staying because i love that play, and it's really kinda creepy that all of these people were pretty much only there to watch kathleen turner. don't get me wrong, she is awesome (serial mom is a much-loved film in my family), and i bet she would have made an amazing, brash, hysterical martha, but it's not like you should be such a starfucker that you absolutely insist that you see her perform or else you want your money back. her understudy was a fantastic actress and the whole play was just sooo good - it is so biting and snappy and horrible and fascinating and amazing. the actor who played george made me like his character so much more than how i usually read him - he was so ineffectual and lame but quietly, sneakily evil and brilliant. argh, i love this play sooo much it's actually getting embarrassing to write all of this "dear diary, i have a new crush" rambling. i will say this, though: i bet kathleen will get a few ransom notes reading "i'll get you, pussyface!" for being too ill to perform.

three super-awesome things on this page: phil spector is lookin mighty fine, johnny sweeps the leg (he seriously directed that?) and another reason why david bowie is awe-inspiringly rad.

a coyote walked into a quiznos sub shop in downtown chicago and jumped up into the drinks cooler. so weird. read this and be sure to watch the video - the coyote has this clear "what? leave me alone. you're retarded for staring at me" look on his face, and i love the reaction of the animal control guy when he is clearly embarrassed to be asked such a stupid question. and then you have to watch this cheese-tastic news story about him and his release back to nature. it's awesome when he runs into a pole. dumbest. coyote. ever.

i am convinced that NOTHING GOOD can or will ever come out of craigslist (other than the impending nuptials of eb and bq - for reals! that's how they met! they're so brave!). click here for one example. go to my old apartment and meet my ex-roommate for another example.

i'm quite fond of this blog, typebrighter. its "really bad tattoos" series is unparalleled. they added a new page. check out all six parts with, i swear to god, ink that makes me fear others, their stupidity, their apparent hatred of women in general and the vag in particular, and their utterly horrific sense of fashion.

i just spent a really long time typing up a really soul-searching and thought-provoking paragraph about how i haven't smoked in four days and what this means and how i am dealing, and motherfucking blogger.com just deleted it when i tried to post. GOD. time for bed.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

blargh.


pos and i saw snow patrol at the aragon monday. i bought those tickets as part of his christmas present; i got them in november. it's awesome that i bought him tickets to an event two months into our relationship that was happening five months later. the show was really good. i know that they're not the koolest band ever, and it was definately girls-and-their-boyfriends night (as well as 16-year-olds from the suburbs night), but it was fun, and gordon lightbody has an awesome voice, and i like them a lot. ok go opened - i liked seeing them more at a smaller venue - they seem too cheesy bigtime rockstar when they have, like, a light show.

a couple people sent this to me. apparently i have the same temperment as a misunderstood gay 8-year-old boy (some examples would include that we have the same taste in music and that when we are upset we transport ourselves to unicorn fantasy lands). give it up for feathers - heyyy.

ecf sent this awesome photo gallery to get everyone ready for the impending summer cook-out season. thirty-pound burger - mmmmm. i can barely digest a quarter-pounder with cheese without my pseudo-vegetarian stomach getting really really mad at me.

video: donnie osmond acts like a bastard on jimmy kimmel's show, and it's actually pretty funny.

i don't have hbo and have always made it a point to catch it when i can, but now i am fully caught up: here is the entire first six seasons of the sopranos in seven minutes. funny and cool.

this week: i quit smoking (and am therefore achy, itchy, nauseous from my meds and crazy), my assistant quit (she got a really great job, it wasn't that i was a shitty boss . . . i think), the president of my company (who i really love and is awesome) was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer (pretty much the worst you can have), my apartment's a mess, i am exhausted, and winter won't go away. and it's only wednesday. tears.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

fidgety and itchy: i feel hott.


yes, i quit.

the last cigarette i had was at 10:30 pm on sunday. then i threw my last one away (i didn't even smoke the entire last pack), threw my lighters out, and went to bed.

yesterday was hard. i was okay until my smoking cessation class at 3:30 (only two of us actually quit yesterday - everyone else had excuses but plan to this week), and just talking about it made me anxious. also, i forgot to bring my chantix to work with me, so i felt under-medicated. it was all about dividing up my day and just dealing with it. i was worried about my breaks but just didn't take them. i was worried about when i left to go home at night but just walked to the bus and got on instead. i was worried about when i got home, but i immediately just started cooking dinner and ate a popsicle. i was worried about after i ate, but i slammed a glass of water and brushed my teeth.
pos and i went and saw a band, but it was a non-smoking venue, so that helped. when we got home i sat in my wing-backed chair next to the window - my smoking chair - and played with the "puffer" that the non-smoking lady gave us (it's called a nicotine inhaler - you load this little plastic pipe thing with a nicotine cartridge and treat it like it's a cigarette, and it just has the nicotine, no other bad smoke and cig poisons). i didn't take any of the nicotine cartridges, i just thought that having the puffer around would help. after i got ready for bed, i laid down and started crying. i was like i'm scared that i can't do this and i can't handle this if every day of the rest of my life is going to be like this, so anxious and worrisome. pos is, as i have mentioned, a magical mystical unicorn boyfriend, and he calmed me down and told me just to take one day at a time and that it will get easier - things that i logically know but don't feel like believing.

the chantix is great - i can't say that i am going through physical withdrawls at all, just mental flip-out ones, and the dreams are still cool - very busy and vivid and involved. i bought a really beautiful house for $261,000 on sunday night, and knew that pos would like it because the shrubs were trimmed to say "chicago white sox" (KLASSY). not sure what i dreamed last night. probably about smoking.

oh - but i think i might be allergic to chantix. like, mildly. because i am fucking ITCHY. i don't have a rash or anything, but i am scratching up a storm. it is possible, i believe, that it is psychosomatic, and it is possible that nicotine and the thousands of chemicals that i have been putting into my body every day for the past 12 years are being pushed out and my body is like "this shit is gross."

more later, stuff that's not self-obsessive or about how i broke up with camel lights.