test-toing.

"This horrible but superb painting
the parable of the blind
without a red

in the composition..."

-- William Carlos Williams"

9:19 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

a whim, caprice

I have changed my top friends. It just seems crucial that Dan the Automator know he has a place to crash, should he ever be in need.

9:56 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Need to know basis:

I like Ryan Reynolds now.

8:01 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

oh, boys.

I finally got around to renting "Sin City." I'm a weirdo and i like taking a break in the middle of movies sometimes. I walked around the neighborhood a bit--the first cool night in quite some time, crickets, full moon, quiet streets--and thought about the recurring archetype that i seem to find so attractive in movies. And now I'm typing.

I'm sure this )below) isn't true for all women, but i bet it is for quite a few.

Apparently what I really want is a psycho killer with a soft spot. Respect for women and a disregard for authority. Mickey Rourke's character (incidentally, who would have thought MICKEY ROURKE would have done such a bitchen job??)--disfigured, oafish, borderline mentally handicapped. He's like a suave, tough-talking Lenny from Of Mice and Men, but Goldie's his rabbit. A beefed-up version of L.A. Confidential's simple savior played by Russell Crowe. They'll hit a dame, but only when absolutely necessary. They live for simple truths and quick responses. The straight means to a black and white end ultimately justifying considerabley gruesome violence.

Is it an only child thing? A Leo thing? What wired this? I wish I could remember the things that gave me this.

The world and sex and men-women has been sterilized in this century, especially in the last thirty years. Marv, as someone says in the dive bar he frequents, would have been a god in a different century. Maybe it's a backlash of anti-emo that's long overdue. But the enlightened caveman can only exist now, if you think about it. We have the light now to illuminate the dark and provide contrast, to see and measure.

Virility and fidelity, absolute power and absolute passionate obsession. I don't think it's a character from a Harlequin romance, because I don't want someone who talks like that, I don't imagine it as someone with perfect style and self-possession. Are they heroes?

Maybe it's hero-worship. There aren't a lot of heroes these days. Even the word sounds like a propaganda in my mouth.
Do we need them? Maybe I need sexual heroics.

Everything is so over-talked, books are written about HER PLEASURE, every magazine has sixteen easy blow job tips using household items and refridgerator condiments. mars, venus, tony robbins, dr. phil, relationship blah de blah blah blahbah.

I know it's why bored housewives went to the Colliseum to eat ancient versions of Ring-Dings and watch strangers kill each other. I know it's why abused women say "he loves me, though..." I know it's why I love men and not women, primally.

People who prefer Clive Owen to Hugh Grant, you know? It may be the same thing as not wanting the kids and the carpool and the PTA. Why do all roads have to lead to "normalcy?" I don't think intimacy and comfort are necessarily related as closely in my mind as in other people's.

To be few against many.

Is it a need to be protected? the "i only date taller men" stigma could well be something of that sort. I want to feel breakable and salvagable. I want to be aroused by a man and not by the Vice guide to cunnilingus. Do you know what I mean?

I'm not explaining myself well. I think horror movie fans know what I mean. I think anyone who likes Clive Owen and not Jude Law knows what I mean. I think anyone who's ever been surprised by an orgasm knows what i mean.

It's a full moon.


Mystery and danger. A closed room with a limited number of keys to that room. I would wear the key around my neck.

Not saying everything, not needing to say much of anything. I just need to know and feel.

I spent my eighteen year education in analysis of words, I found myself without any. Anything that I know to be real is impossible to describe. Or even really think about. You can't step back far enough to see the edges of what you are.

I don't think it's a damsel in distress thing, and here's why: they live happily ever after. Boring. Love should not alter when it alteration finds, true; but alteration (adversity) with one key and one room and a moment of salvation and then thrown back out again is what keeps it alive.

Can I just say: thank you for the real men. You know who you are.

7:14 AM - 9 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

like reheated frijoles.

guess what, friendniks. i am so fucking lazy that i am going to repost a journal entry from SG. It's probably still fairly representative of what's happening in my life, especially since my love for squash (the vegetable) and table-tennis (the ping-pong) never wavers.

love:

--dj sandwich last night: "confusing music for confusing people."

--dairy-free pizza

--david cross (go read the interview. i haven't, simply because i know how much time i have to waste at work tomorrow)

--taking pictures from the car while i'm driving, being waved to by a car of frat boys in bumper-to-bumper traffic, responding by blatantly peering into their SUV out of my window and snapping pictures of them for three city blocks as revenge

--my friend dale telling me stories about the real reasons guys go camping and the hilarity of their appropriateness (reasons: drinking, setting things on fire)

--every single thing the dj played at st. ex last night. it was one of those nights where every new song elicited a standing "YEAHHHH!" a la Lil Jon from your truly

--queer as folk season four, specifically gale harold, also specifically the character he plays on said show.

--laughing at MTV programs that pretend to be serious and newsworthy journalism, like "True Life: I'm On A Diet."

--steve buscemi in ghost world. specifically, "Are we in slow motion here??? What, are you hypnotized?!?! Have some more kids, why dontcha!"

--that there exists a band called "Death By Sexy." I have never heard one song, but they are my new favorite band. Period.




edit:

today i was confronted by both the shitty and the saintly aspects of human nature. i was making a bank deposit at an ATM (which i hate doing. i like physically handing my check to a little underling who THEN sends it off into virtual space, ha.) and didn't have a pen with me. Like a moran, i run into the nextdoor CVS to get one. Of course I leave my card in the machine, because i have "street smarts.' When I come back, there's a young professional looking man asking me, "Is this your cash?" Apparently some fucking punk kid on a skateboard had been at the ATM, and when young professional looking man showed up, f.p.k. ran like the very divvil was after him. He didn't have time to take the hundred bucks he tried to withdraw. So not only did y.p.l.m. stop him from taking my card, he was also honest about the money the kid had left in the slot. This redeems some portion of my faith in humanity.

I spent the next twenty minutes walking around the building in a tight circle looking for the skateboard kid. Because I believe in vigilante justice.


Hi, I'm difficult, apparently.

7:48 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

oh, and this

and this is why it is tempting, because
it is white and silent, it lacks fully developed points
of articulation
rattles slyly in the box like a kalamatala olive
and plays rimsy-korsakov with the other mice in
a fugue for tinhorns

rakishly tilted, hemispheres divided, honking
mendaciously at the old biddy outside the 7-11
snow tires on, earflaps down, settling in for
a long winter's nap

ice storm, left lane, faking a scotsman's walk.
caught the tail of your red coat in the fireman's lift
and the expressive nape of your heel and its plasticine
modeling was simply gorgeous

i don't write lyrics oh well it's easy just to like
hum a tune and speak in time
have a microphone handy and a wicked detachable
irony

red flag goes up, green balloon flashes. red flag goes down, green balloon dies. red flag goes up, henry rollins' monthly visit to the tent. green balloon turns clear cellophane wrapped around the inside of your closed hand

it's never been like a stocking, it's never been like that
i've never turned that spigot on, it's where the ants go marching too. i only wear those for that purpose, but i never

would you use this? would you do this? would we do? that? even that? i've never, no, i don't, but if force come push into,

push

pullover

a sly lounge song, a long slow sound, a sibilant something left unsaid when i boarded the train for Bucharest

she sit in the salmon-colored seats lips into macadam pressings dried old rodedendrons pickling jars for feet. it's an agatha christie sense of real old-world timer oriental baroque and the butler would rather play Operation! or Life! or CLUE! rearranging dropped matchstick books and discarded pipe stems on the insert large boating disaster here please.

all i have on my head is a hat, and all i have in my hat is a head. and if all i have in my head is a hole, then all i have is a hat full of holes.

7:53 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

This subject line thing is B-A-N-A-N-A-S
Current mood: curious

Dave and Buster's is a scary, scary place. Whenever I go there, i later have dreams about touching someone's house and it collapsing in a pile of mutinous rubble.

They make a very strong vodka tonic. It causes HIJINKERY.

I was playing a betting game about racing for my friend while she went to the bathroom. I accidentally killed her horse. It was waving all four of its little pixellated legs in the air something horrible.

I also got to spank a frat boy and sign his arm. I didn't do one of those giggling, simpering little "EEEEE! I SO WEAK!" taps, neither. WHABAM.

Time to go to the gym and watch those annoyingly addictive I LOVE THE DECADE OF THIS DECADE shows.

Who are you?

7:16 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Carrying the Torch of Handsomeness!

I have a very good-looking friends list.

Truly, my friends, we are living the Handsome life-style.

I enjoy hypens.

1:14 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment