I want someone to have a picnic with. After Midnight. On top of an abandoned building or a construction project. We’ll get dressed up really nice and drink cheap wine and eat fast food and talk about books.
Mommy, why did daddy leave us? Was it because I'm stupid?
No baby, of course not. It’s just… It’s difficult to explain. You can’t blame yourself. He was a complicated man. And a coward. But I’m here for you. We still have eachother and that’s the important thing, right?
I don’t even-
WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?
I’ve never been especially fond of Andres Serrano’s work, or at least that particular piece, but that doesn’t make people destroying his art any less fucking terrible, especially considering some of the details surrounding the incident.
I really love doing research. No. I’m not being sarcastic. I love the process of digging for information, compiling notes and attempting to synthesize the information I’ve collected into a cohesive document.
I’m starting to miss doing interviews. I really enjoyed the work I used to do, writing profiles of people. It probably produced some of the most interesting and compelling writing I’ve done.
My drawing tablet has stopped working for the time being. And right as I was starting to flesh out and fully realize a doodle I found in my Statistics notebook of an old dude wearing a wizard robe and hat, which I had written the words SEX WIZARD next to. I would think, perhaps that he goes around giving completely unsolicited, and extremely unrealistic relationship/sex advice, convinced that he’s helping cure people of hangups, regardless of if that help is even needed or wanted.
Trying to get back into journal writing (I used to be good at this)
I read a copy of Acme Novelty Library #20 by Chris Ware earlier. It almost made me have a panic attack. I seem to have completely lost the Danny Wallace book that I bought last August. I’ve searched my apartment for it several times in the past several months, and it seems to be nowhere to be found. I’ve been in a kinda weird mood the last couple of days, and I was hoping to find it, since his writing typically cheers me up. Oh well. I did find my copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide though. I guess that’s what I’m reading now. Unless the slight trickling rain outside picks up. If that happens, I’m going to completely disregard reading and go run around in the rain.
**** Last night I got yelled at by a former contestant from Last Comic Standing, who was on stage at the time, for what seemed like a full minute, of him propositioning me, in a thick southern accent.
I dreamt last night that I was stuck in a building for several hours with a group of strangers. After passing out for a little while, I realized that I hadn’t once actually tried the door, walked over to it, pushed on it, realized that all that needed to be done was to push harder than anyone else had, and walked out. As far as dreams go, that was incredibly boring.
I know it’s pretty far away from now, but here’s the plan. February 11th is the birthday of conspiracy theorist Alex Jones, who happens to live in Austin. On his birthday, I would like to go to his house with a megaphone and shout the words to Happy Birthday at him. I would greatly appreciate if people would help out by bringing signs and posters wishing him a happy birthday, if in a strange and conspiratorial manor.
"The Bilderberg Group doesn’t want you to know it’s Alex Jones’s Birthday"
I’ll bring this up again when it becomes more timely.