pos and i are taking a creative writing class at this great little place called story studio chicago (the owner is our teacher and she's really funny and a good instructor). we need diversions on these coldass winter nights. we end up going out to eat every tuesday before class at a place near the studio - we've done cuban and pub food, and this week we went to a thai place. they brought us little wrapped thong tham nai (that's what the package said anyway) that i am guessing are thai fortune cookies, though i eat thai all the time and this was the first place that gave us anything like this. my fortune was awesome: "everyone agrees you are the best." pos' was just weird: "laughter is the sun that drives winter of the face." um, yeah, okay.
i've seen the in bruges preview a few times, and while i'm not a big fan of colin farrell, i LOVELOVELOVE martin mcdonagh, who wrote and directed. first of all, he's gorgeous. more importantly, he is a fecking awesome playwright - i saw the lieutenant of inishmore in new york and the pillowman at the steppenwolf (excellent eighth date with pos). also, he won an oscar two years ago for his short film six shooter. am excited. it is sure to be funny and violent and rad. here is the new yorker article i read in 2006 - i had never heard of him before and i was supa bored while i was getting my feets done at the nail salon so i read the article and it convinced me that i needed to track down any and all of mr mcdonagh's works.
speaking of theater . . . harvey keitel stars in jerry springer: the musical in new york (title role, no singing). um. hmm. pos really loves the movie the bad lieutenant, and it was on IFC not too long ago, and i had to go upstairs after the part where he pulls over two teenagers and then jerks off while making one of them show him her ass and the other suggestively lick the air. too creepy, thanks.
it's football time, and football time means pigs in a blanket time. instructions: take a "little smoky" wiener doggie, wrap it in 1/3 of a pillsbury crescent roll pre-cut dough, and bake it til it's golden. dip in mustard, eat too many. which reminds me of one of my all-time favorite urban legends: the exploding dough can. watch these while you eat them: a collection of super bowl ads from the past.
i'm curious to see teeth - i have a feeling that it's going to be awesome and non-retarded, and lots of people will be squeamish and maybe some awesome cultural references to the vag will happen. also, random: roy lichtenstein's son directed? i would love to see roy's version of the movie poster if he were still alive - a big ole vaginer with spots. i like the trailer - "it's what's inside me!" of course, if i wait for netflix i can watch it while sitting on my new vagina couch (instant craigslist classic).
i would have totally wanted to go to camp electric youth when i was in the 4th grade - i fucking loved debbie gibson. i grew up and moved on; sadly, deborah did not. not unrelatated at all: my brother made sure to email me the deets on the new kids on the block reunion. i'm still embarrassed by all that. my first concert. my first obsession. my first experience with being a total fag hag.
it is winter, and in the winter i craft. some years i make pot holders and some i embroider tea towels. some years i do paint-by-numbers and some i make collages (arty ones, okay?). i have been doing a few easy and quick paint-by-numbers this winter while watching tv so that i can "warm myself up" and move onto the totally fucking rad birthday gift eb and sf gave me last year, which is a photo of them plus me and pos that was magically transformed into a pbn kit. i am so worried that i will fuck it up, and that we'll all come out looking like mongoloids. anyway, sb sent me this site, full of tampon craftiness, like the tampon toupee (so realistic!) and tampon easter bunny (so fuzzy!). what's awesome is that the feminist (genderific, actually, was the term we used) activist group that ag and i started in college, stingray, actually featured a tampon-crafting portion of our year-end party. to make a tampon stingray, you just pull it out of the applicator, spread it open, and draw eyes on it. not hard to do, but economical AND adorable.
playing the free rice vocab game is like taking the SATs, only this time you get to help feed the world's poor, not fuck yourself out of getting into a good school.
in case you didn't know, drugs are bad.
which leads us to the latest klassy kollections of tattoos on the smoking gun: bad tats on women. this one is pretty disturbing - i think i know what she was trying to do, but it just comes across as being a child-abuse statement or something (very "hands are not for hurting"). and what is this one supposed to be - an earthworm? it's not just the ladies - here is a collection of recently-arrested morons and the odd mugshots they take - what's with the red face art?
i am pleased to announce that i have finally found my blog's mascot. i don't know who you are, and i don't know just how mentally unbalanced you are, but you should be my new bff.