STALKERSPACE

does anyone have myspace for any reason other than ruminating over old lovers? it is THE shoebox under the bed of the 21st century. it saves messages in your inbox so you can go there and read all the love letters that guy sent you in college, and you can click on their default photo and be whisked to their page and their albums. and since no one maintains their profiles anymore its like things havent changed at all since you were dating or whatever. an ephemeral little nostalgiaspace for anyone that was active on the interwebs 2004-7.

Cigarettes are Food: An Installation

This is the second in a series I would like to call "Cigarettes are Food", a motto that supermodels and pro-anas sternly abide by. For some reason people seem to think that disposing of food in fancy ashtrays or stubbing out their butts on the remnants of someone's salad is appropriate behavior. Don't get me wrong, food and cigarettes go together brilliantly. Fondue and a glass of Shiraz paired with a Ben Sherman is a classy delicacy. Pizza, PBR and a camel light make for a satisfying treat. All of this is ruined when you see a shriveled nicotine stained filter smashed into its own ash atop delicious "vanilla flavored" cookies or refreshing lycopene loaded tomatoes.

haaangovvvah

in response to this photo, my soulsistah/lifepartner in crime, bee, furrowed her brow and posed this question: "who walks around a party with nilla wafers in his hand and thinks, the best place for me to dispose of these is an ashtray?"
the kind of people we associate with, apparently.

There's nothing more delightfully nostalgic than a built in glass cabinet displaying your collection of childhood boardgames. Not 1, not 2 but 3 sets of Twister ensures that this thinly veiled excuse for dry humping cum game "that ties you up in knots" will erupt into an adult twisted tea fueled orgy, which, thanks to the multiple cases of roach traps, will not be interrupted by any unsightly vermin. Proudly displaying your affection for childhood gameplay says "I'm fun and fiercely competitive." Proudly displaying your vintage 1980s Muhammed Ali Roach traps says "Chuh, I'm an urban dweller who sometimes sucks at life..or maybe I'm just over-identifying with Gregor Samsa."

labor day party time

so its the sunday before labor day and the entire free world is invited to a cookout at the lake and taking boat rides and getting tans and drinking he last of the summer beers and grilling burgers with their friends.

me? i just get home from work, put on sweats, make pasta, have a bud dry and try to catch up on mad men on demand. suddenly my phone rings! its my roomie, grrrrrl monster, "soooo are you up to anything?" oooh you know im just blogging and getting quality time with the kitties. "good. i just rented rachel getting married. will you watch it with me?" uuummmm duh! and the goodies she rolled home with were soo suck-at-life-tastic that i was like dude, we gotta put this on the blog. note the scratch ticket.

suck at feminism

we've already tried to figure out how and why there are so many used condoms lining the streets, and now this! a brassiere! are people really just ripping their clothes off and having protected sex in the middle of the road? and then leaving the evidence? so we can all get jealous? because we are not so spontaneous? and confine sex acts to private spaces? like puritans!

or maybe whilst speeding around our fair city some woman just realized she was sick of The Man trying to keep her titties in check and threw that poorly-designed garment of oppression right out the window?