word bin -- sound bin -- image bin -- flash bin -- rb rants -- link bin
 January 31, 2004 19:55 GMT Listening to: my head's version of "Heya" which I'm sure is way wrong I worked TWO whole days and am bushwhacked. Wanna drink some Merlot and watch Prizzi's Honor. Next week we gonna go to Lahndahn for 2 days to birthday party with Jen (yeee!) and celebrate our 4-month anniversary (double yeee!). The banal allure of a job interview at a software company next Thursday has me appropriately confused. Guess I'm excited about having actual income again. On Thursday and Friday (and again on Monday) I got to watch weird IT dudes go in & out of the men's room all day from the reception desk, among other "responsibilities" like drinking free coffee and catching up on my reading. They pay me for this? The answer is YES, yes they do! A far cry from tearing my hair out all day at the lawfirm of Crackmonkey & Badvibe, LLP (that one's for you Suzette). Every reception gig I ever had, no matter what state or country, there's always some loser dork who takes magazines FROM THE WAITING AREA INTO THE MEN'S ROOM. And when he's done, HE BRINGS THEM BACK. Nice. Blimey. I did this today (it's also the 3rd icon up there ^). It took most of the day because of the wake and bake phenomenon. If you have to ask, you'll never know...
The Office rules. Oh, there is a Gareth Keenan at every temp job too; most recently it's the Health And Safety manager who asked me please NOT to stack the mugs in the cupboard after emptying the dishwasher because apparently if you are a retard who can't open a cupboard without making things fall out of it, it is a health and safety issue. I'll try to bear that in mind...
 January 28, 2004 22:50 GMT Listening to: Frantic typing by Derry So there have been NO updates for 10 days. Why? I am and have been boring. Boring boring boring. All this looking for work shite is very draining. Actually I started working on my novel again during the aforementioned boredom so I guess that's a positive development. And reading, lots of reading but I don't really quote books on here (just in the little comment boxes sometimes. Why I do not know). And man am I behind on emails. Here's a rough outline of the week(s) previous:
Monday January 20, 2004
Tuesday January 21 through Friday January 25, 2004
Saturday January 22, 2004 The film we watched was Chopper, which is the story of Mark Brandon "Chopper" Read, An Australian criminal notorious for being vicious, violent and quite a master of self-promotion. He may or may not have committed most of the crimes he claims. The best part is the actual footage of the real Read at the end of the DVD when he just rambles like the loony that he is. It's great!
Sunday January 23, 2004
Monday January 24, and Tuesday 2004
Which brings us to today. My last day of freedom! Work begins tomorrow. The agency even said to me "bring a book" for this gig. In 2 weeks they want me to supervise a data entry pool of about 30 people for some local company. Me, supervise? This ought to be good.
 January 18, 2004 22:50 GMT Listening to: Thumb by Kyuss Derry & I spent the last 2 days having these really heavy discussions about art, and what IS and ISN'T art, what's the difference between art and science, and why people are stupid sheep, etc., etc., so all I can do at this point is stare at the images iTunes generates while odd music plays. Sometimes that's all you need really. That's what those weird things up there are. God DAMN Guided By Voices thoroughly slay me. Doug Gilliard's solo stuff is great too. Are all the people in Ohio this brilliant? I doubt it somehow.  January 16, 2004 18:52 GMT Listening to: Bocuma by Boards of Canada Not much going on. I made this today when I should have been doing more responsible things. Well, if cooking a veggie shepherd's pie counts as responsible then I'm way ahead of myself. I have no idea what that means.  January 15, 2004 16:46 GMT Listening to: Thievery Corporation DJ Kicks I am really, truly proud of some of my friends. Today I would like to pay them tribute. 1) Michael Dean. Here is a guy I've only known since about 1999, and in that short amount of time he has really blown me away. He has published 3 books (Starving in the Company of Beautiful Women, $30 Music School and $30 Film School) and made a kick-ass film "DIY or Die" (which I got to see rough cuts of when I lived in LA. ). He's also a master of self-promotion but you know what, this is show biz, people, and no one can hear you scream in outer space if you know what I mean. Get on his mailing list cos he is always on the tip of how to get it done, roots-stylee. And as if that wasn't enough, he invented MouseCount. Here's what some other people are saying: > Michael Dean is definitely one of the most powerful, knowledgeable and experienced living legends still around from the heyday. If anybody knows real rock, it's Michael Dean. ---Peter DiStefano (Porno for Pyros, Peter Murphy) > A living underground legend, Michael Dean is one of the few integral rock 'n' roll spokesmen we have left of our generation. ---Eric McFadden (Parliament-Funkadelic) > Get your slacker ass in gear with Michael W. Dean's latest alternative textbook, $30 Music School. --London May (Samhain, Tiger Army, Dag Nasty) > Michael Dean is the epitome of super charged and always active. He's always up to something that, if good, is very good and, if bad, it's even better. --Janis Tanaka, (L7, Pink, Fireball Ministry) Kittyfeet Media home His website is impossible to navigate, however (aherm sir)... search "kittyfeet.com" and you will get dozens of hits to his many amusing pages none of which seem to be linked (!). 2) Jack Rabid. We have been buds since we were tender teens and back in the day he would run around at punk gigs shoving his xeroxed, hand-lettered single page fanzine in everyone's face. As you may know, that fanzine was called The Big Takeover and now he publishes what I (and many more credible people) think is the BEST music magazine a couple times a year; it is HUGE and chock full of everything anyone needs to know. This boy does his homework and takes his job seriously but still knows how to laugh. A great perspective and a swell guy. The Big Takeover 3) Eric Keil. A dear friend whom also has been around since the dawn of time (ha ha). He has a bee-yootiful family and runs his own woodworking business from the top of a gawgeous mountain in Pennsylvania. The reason he has me so impressed is because we go back to slumming in the shittiest parts of NY's lower east side together, and there were times when it was grimmer than grim & it could really make you feel, well, pretty damn hopeless. But he (and Kim) had a dream and they stuck to it; he took over his grandfather's bedraggled farmland and BUILT HIS OWN HOUSE (how many of you can say that? huh?) in a literal woodland paradise. His pieces turn up in places like Fine Woodworking magazine (how posh). He doesn't have a website. Wacky! ...but he does amazingly beautiful work. There's something so noble about combining the artistic and the utile, dontcha think? My big accomplishment lately is being on time for a temp agency interview and typing 51 whole words per minute. Badly. I guess (aside from music) what I'm really good at is getting myself out of messes that I pretty much created in the first place. I guess that could be a talent... Oh, and I did this the other day. Whoopee! 
 January 13, 2004 22:02 GMT Listening to: Green Machine by Kyuss Same shit, different country... the job hunt is on. It's all good, soon we'll have enough for our own place and that will rule totally. I've been getting my half-done novel ready for uploading so maybe soon that will actually happen unless I find more excuses to not do it. Ooh the pages are all pretty colours. Lucky ducks are we. Tonight we will be mostly downloading Duran Duran and Soundgarden. Why? I do not know. Welcome to our underground lair.  January 9, 2004 23:01 GMT That Hilary Duff thing has me so freaked out all I want to do is train an army of angry red squirrels to rip her to bloody shreds. She must die. Period. I even left the bad stream of consciousness poetry on just because of her. Blame her. Kill her. 
 January 8, 2004 19:36 GMT (entry deleted. why? cos I felt like it!) 
 January 6, 2004 20:56 GMT She's in a better mood today. Much. Those are happy pix from New Year's Eve 2003. Our first together! Yee! Wow that bit about my old roommate is kinda scary. Sometimes I write in character (the character from the novel that I may or may not ever finish, it's about 50% done.) and don't realize it. Maybe that character is really me... I'll never tell. It's written as diary entries. Here's a sample: TODAY PEOPLE seem more disgusting and misshapen than ever. Sick. Loping. Hallucinatory. Is any of this supposed to mean anything? I mean, I know it's all completely empty, and meaningless, the work I do, the daily rituals, the inane conversations just to get through the day. It's all so disappointing. But what's even more disappointing are the things that are supposed to mean something. At a glance I study them for depth, hopeful, encouraged; I read into things like they were clues into the very evolution of all reason and tangibility, and in a flash... nothing. For a minute or two I really think I'm onto something. Funny. Everything is so cheap, vacuous, useless. People? Family? These words mean nothing to me. I feel no need to cling to parents, friends, familiar faces and voices, kith and kin. A parade of useless memories, cluttering up the attic. Burn them in the yard already. It's all so fleeting. Soothing tones and kind words. Phhht. What brought me warmth and a sense of belonging as a child seems like a cruel joke now. We've led on the young dumb one again. So trusting, ha! What a dupe. What a dope. And so it goes. I won't be fooled again. I know what all of this means. And it means absolutely nothing. Could it be more clear? Ooh, dark. And another: WE ARE all prisoners. Trapped in our boxes; trapped in our apartments; trapped in our filthy holes; trapped in our flesh; trapped in our lives. No escape. My skin feels like a plastic bag. I can't move; I can't breathe. And you know what? I'm good with that. I have accepted the fact that fate is unavoidable, there's nothing any of us can do. Swimming upstream like a bunch of salmon. Slack jawed and bug eyed. Pathological optimism. Hopeful. Pathetic. A giant fist has me in its clutch. I couldn't move if I wanted to. But I don't. I don't want to move. I'm comfortable here in this isolation; in my alienation; in my suffocation. I have accepted my role in this world. I could give life but instead I take it away. I feel sorry for those who don't know why they're here. Scratch that; no I don't. They should all die. Floundering around, groping blindly, taking up space, creating landfill, destroying the ozone, and wasting my time. Assholes. Uh, did I mention she was a serial killer? Maybe I should. That may explain a few things. or not.  Am I Evil? I Am Man, Yes I Am. As D pointed out, we watched The Filth & The Fury again (for me) last night. I saw this in SF a few years ago at the Lumiere Theatre on California street with my then roommate who shall remain unnamed cos he was a rich cunt who busted & "borrowed" alot of my stuff and constantly annoyed me by challenging my lifestyle choices and general world view. ANYWAY, Mr. Rotten is probably one of the only true "mentors" I would say I had as a teen and well beyond. Before you start saying "what a no-culture vapid poseur she is", I ask you: Have you ever really listened to the man talk about the original punk movement, and the socio-political reasons it came to be (in the UK I mean)? Well, if you haven't, SHUT THE FUCK UP cos he is (was) truly brilliant, original, observant and insightful in general. People who can't get past all the dumb punks who came along and made it look stupid to the rest of the world will never get it. It was not about destroying for the sake of destroying, I'd say John's theories were more "reconstructionist" than anything else. He loved England and its people and felt sorry for the ways they had been lied to and misled for so long. He was angry that they had become apathetic and miserable. He wanted to show them that they didn't have to take it, and that the time was right to START OVER. DO SOMETHING NEW. Oh, so the point of mentioning my former nameless roommate is that as we were leaving the theatre he exclaimed, "Man that was so great... I just wanna go break stuff!". He didn't get it. He's probably back in Arkansas now, post-dotcom crash wounded and still not getting it. So If you're reading this now I want you to know one thing: I dipped your toothbrush in the toilet bowl. More than once. I wonder what the Dalai Lama would have to say about THAT. So Happy New Year. Apparently my good side is the place to be. My husband rules. December 31, 2003 18:34 GMT HAPPY OLDE YEAR! ...and just what the fuck is a "shopp-e" ? OK that was nicked, from Disturbing Behavior. As was / is the following mildly disturbing image: Out and out nicked from Simon's blog. It's a Mexican Hairless photographed in Peru. Simon and Ann are globe trottin' do-gooders and darn fine folk. If he wants me to link his page to our page I will but *somehow* I doubt it! Anyway I'm on my second glass o'wine and our puff pastry is ready. NO that is not a code, Robin Suey Emma Inger... I know what you're thinking. Everybody go out and glitter tonight. Did I say that? December 30, 2003 21:49 GMT Listening to"Escape Song" by the scrummy Grahamlin (if you have to ask...) Derry made amazing beans on toast & veg sausage for dinner. We are sposed to be packing up eBay sales stuff right now but are being computer dorks instead. Too full. I made a new flash thingie, it's on the flash page of this very site but danged if I can be arsed to make a cut tag. Blort. Gotta get my CV in order since Home Office now recognizes me as a capable bread-winner. Now we are DINKs (Dual Income No Kids). But we will have cats. I don't know what that will make us. Just happy I imagine. OK here it is. It's pretty, er, silly. December 28, 2003 22:08 GMT Please make it stop... Urgh, I can't get off of Superbad.com. 
 December 27, 2003 13:21 GMT Listening to "Fight The Power" by Public Enemy 
 Gangstaz Invade Crawltown! Disturbing and somewhat comical examples of this phenomenon as seen at a bus stop in West Green. Local residents can't help but notice that the Bewbush "Masive" crew is expanding its threatening range of operations and poor spelling daily. Their female members, or "bitches", are kept in a subservient role by only being allowed to "tag up" with lipstick, and a very dated shade of frosty rose at that. 
December 26, 2003 17:25 GMT Happy Boxing Day, or St. Stephen's day... In the mid-19th century, it was tradition to give a box to tradesmen on the day following Christmas. St. Stephen was the first Christian martyr and on the 26th the Western church has a feast in his honour (the 27th for the Eastern church). Today, in the year 2003, it means outRAGEous (sic) sales, huge crowds at the mall and naturally no (as in none are running, no exaggeration) bleamin' bus service to get you anywhere anyway. So stay home, don't buy anything and for Pete's sake (if that is his name) leave a nice pressie for the milkman! Damn your lazy hide. Dan and Charlotte gave us a sweeeeeet-lookin' bottle of red that we shall be tucking into over Damon's potatoes. That sounds dirty, and like we hang out with rock stars from Colchester, but really it means we found an actual recipe on the net (bless) for Damon Albarn's potato layer. Reviews to follow. Speaking of reviews, I finally saw Disturbing Behavior and it was mighty fine goofy entertainment. Dig that stoney albino and the kid from Spanking The Monkey. Good retarded janitor-action too. Chuck the soundtrack; all but one song made me want to jab my eardrums with a pencil. Freshly sharpened. Beagle 2 is having its own little communication breakdown it seems. In my soft grey mind I am story-boarding an animation set to a Boards Of Canada track, to be set either in outer space or under water. I just don't know. Final directive? Visit the acapella horses right now, just do it. You will be glad you did. Truly. 
 December 25, 2003 17:08 GMT Listening to: Derry playing Asteroids (yes it's true) After a lovely Xmas dinner of mostly vegetable matter, I am working on my HTML skills. Now there's an oxymoron. I am a ninja master of drag'n drop so this is good for me (he says). True. After the revolution we will all be responsible for our own HTML. Back to square one. Lights out. Bunkerville. Anyway... nuclear winter aside, I used to work alot in HTML but haven't kept up with it. GoLive has made me pale and weak. Ugh. Dig the recently-spanked-skin colour of this page. (*it has since been changed) |
Photophobia_1. Blurry moments from a blurry mind.
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