horrified by sugar

something really gross happened to me the other day. i grabbed a yogurt from the kitchen at work first thing in the morning. it was the "fruit at the bottom" kind, so i shook it up before i opened it. it tasted different, but good. after a few more mouthfuls, i noticed i was doing a lot more chewing than tiny bits of peaches warranted, so i spit some of it out. as it happens, i was actually chewing on rubbery chunks of mold. mmmmmmm. mmmmmmmmmmmm. yeah.

i have just discovered a relatively excellent video store in town. i had kind of resigned myself to the Roger's Video Shithole Experience, which actually makes Roger's look like a fun place to work: hunky teenage boys engaged in "horseplay" and eating pizza behind the counter to a punk music soundtrack. But I fucking hated renting from there. Those hunky boys have one functional brain cell between them, so getting any sort of information from them beyond "how much?" just wasn't going to happen without at least fifteen minutes of hand gestures and slow talking. plus, the selection is seriously lacking in the good department. my new video store is heaven in comparison.

it is the simple pleasures in life that really move me.



i have to say i think rob zombie is a good film maker. rent the devil's rejects dvd if only for the documentary of the making of the film, thirty days in hell. the production was under budget for one thing, but zombie's approach to film making is economical in several other ways: time, space, ideas. he also has some excellent criticisms of hollywood and violence. it's great to see the actors talking about the shit they had to do and how they felt about it, too.

speaking of uncomfortable movies, i watched palindromes last night. i loved it, but now i want todd solondz to make another movie about dawn weiner- i have to see what happened to her life (obesity?! rutgers?!) palindromes also has the best contemporary christian song and dance number i've seen in ages. it was so good it just about made me gay.

cornhole

i've been rereading a collection of books that i loved when i was a kid. they're gothic novels for children by a man named john bellairs. i had superb taste when i was eight, because i'm totally loving these books now. and it's very interesting to play a little investigative pop psychology and pick out elements from these books that obviously influenced me as a child, and subsequently informs me, at least somewhat, as an adult. for example: my favorite color is purple and in the house with a clock in it's walls, purple is mrs. zimmerman's signature color. there are a lot more subtle and nuanced connections i've been making, but, you know, i'm only illustrating a point here, ok?

i'm taking the day off from the boyfriend, which is something i badly needed. i said i was going to do some "homework" on this stupid correspondence course i'm in, but i think i'm just going to spend the day reading books and magazines and nibbling on crackers. i might make some pornaments or start a postcard for jason later. maybe. i felt a bit guilty for blowing off the very thing i was scheduling this time for, but i haven't really had time to lay around on a gloomy sunday afternoon and read for a long time either, so fuck it. i've been proscrastinating so long with this course that one more day means nothing. plus, i plan on making a lot more time for myself in the future anyway, so it's not like today is the only time i have to be responsible. i have to make an effort to not spend time with m. as a matter of habit or obligation, because that's the kiss of death in a relationship (at least one of them) and i want to at least make the real effort of having something good and honest with this person. i can't do that if i'm on autopilot in any way, or if i'm crabby and irrational simply because i'm spending too much time away from my own time and space. so, no bra today for sure.

art tubes

i was pretty bored at work today, so i came up with a new art project to work on. (in other words, another project that i will lose interest in and then feel guilty about, most likely.) i'm going to make original art postcards and mail them to my friend jason. nothing special, really. and not terribly original, but i like the dimensions of standard postcards, and i have always had a weird fascination with mail. plus, i enter into a "post modern dialogue" regarding image reproduction (which almost all postcards are, except mine, of course), the marriage of visual art and literature, and all that other crappy crap bullshit that art people like to talk about. sometimes, i like to talk about that kind of thing too. but more often than not, it makes me really impatient. i like to learn about art, but not necessarily from artists and/or art critics. especially not from art students. anyway, i know this is something jason will appreciate because he likes mail and he likes art, so everybody wins. i will mail the first one tomorrow. when jason reads this post, this will be the first time he's heard anything about it. so, note to jason: please don't throw these postcards away. i'm not sure what i want to do with them, but it would be hilarious to put up a show in regina, and get some arts sponsorship to pay for my trip back home so i can attend my gallery debut. then i can sell the postcards for a "reasonable" price and buy booze and pot for all my regina art wanker friends. sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?

in other art related news, there's something here called "festival of trees." every year, corporations/companies/etc. decorate an x-mas tree and they all get displayed downtown in our federal government building. well, i like to do something called a "porn tree" but i don't think i'd be allowed to put it in the "festival of trees" mostly because i'm not a corporation and also mostly because i think hard core porn is frowned upon in public federal buildings. anyway, right across the street is a little gallery called "arts underground." (it's underground.) and i thought they might like to display my porn tree. i'd have to probably write a proposal and/or some kind of artist's statement, but i can deal with that because i would love, love, love to have one of my porn trees officially labeled as art. (and, yes, wendy, i will send you a pornament or two.) they might actually go for it. we'll see if i actually get the nerve to do it. this town is really small and i would end up having to explain myself to a lot of people.

i have to bake cookies now. we got a new oven and i need to try it out.

like snow for mocha

i invented a new kind of tobogganing. it's called "porn sledding" and i discovered it quite by accident. did you know that it's possible to "perform" at least six sexually suggestive positions while tobogganing down a hill on an inner tube? your partner doesn't even have to be willing, let alone know what's going on. "porn sledding" is aided by break-neck speed, limited visibility and friends who know "what you're like."

here's the aftermath



what really happened: kim and i were coming down the hill and i was starting to slide off the front of the tube. my legs were getting caught in front of us and i had a horrible premonition of breaking them both in a spectacular freak tobogganing accident. i didn't want to break my legs, so i was clutching and flailing at anything to hoist myself back on the tube. it just happened to be kim's leg that i grabbed in such a way that it became hooked over my shoulder, thus putting her in an awkward spread eagle. her crotch was in my face. i mean, other things happened too, but i want to keep that private. anyway, it was a lot of fun for me. i laughed and laughed.

tomfoolery pizza hell

i wish andy warhol had come to my school and given a talk about art. i wouldn't have cared or known who andy warhol was- i think i was 11 when he died- but it sure would be nice to have that memory now. in fact, i'm sure it would have been hilarious to remember andy warhol surrounded by a bunch of grade schoolers from southern saskatchewan in one of those totally "classroom looking" classrooms, mumbling things like "gee, you sure are cute" and "art is what you make" with his wig slightly askew. oh well. who needs real memories when you can just make this shit up? i just made that "memory" for myself and it was pretty good. emotions related to this "memory" are just as easily manufactured as the images of it-- it just requires a lot of detail. mmmm. . .now i can "remember" having sex with ewan mcgregor when i was 17. this is so great. who knew you could use your imagination for such wonderful things?

my friend kim is coming over tonight. we're going to go play "upwords" at a "rock and roll" bar. seriously, the logo includes the phrase "rockus maximus." no one goes there for obvious reasons, so it's an excellent place to play board games or have really private conversations. i am going to drink mimosa just to piss the owner off. i'm sure he'll be bartending since i don't see how he can possibly be making enough money to pay someone else to be there. i love tuesdays.

eye diseases

i am so very, very hung over today. m. prepared a mexican feast for me and my room mates last night and i thought having a large bottle of tequila and 24 corona on hand would be appropriate. i blacked out a short time after eating a portion of the worm that was in the bottle of mescal kismet had stashed in her room. apparently, anything goes after a "mescal martini." i don't remember much. m. and i apparently attempted to have sex, but the only recollection i have of that is trying not throw up from the spins. it was pretty hot. i wore special "festive" outfits last night, too. there were like, three different costume changes. one of them was a red plaid tam and a short black dress with line drawings of flowers on it. for some reason, that ensemble said "mexico" to me at the time. god, tequila hurts bad.

bring on the bacon, francis

fuckabaloo

i watched caligula last night. it was the uncut version, but it was still pretty boring. peter o'toole was great, though. i have no other compelling comments regarding this film at the present time.

what is pork doing in my chicken chow mein?

alright. i admit i have nothing compelling to say about anything at the present time.