But that's just fine. I'm going to be prepping for grad school, so I'm officially released from my artistic obligations. Doesn't mean I won't still jot something down here now and again. Or more accurately, transcribe notes from my phone.
Gems such as:
- Russian roulette Mexican stand-off
- Electrical outlets: places in Barstow where you can buy power at pre-retail prices
- Eclectical outlets: power from various kinds of sources
- Electical outlets: democratically-decided sources of power
1: "So, uh, here's a new development. Yeah, I'm uh... I wouldn't say 'doing', but 'participating' in porn..."
2: "You're what!?"
1: "-ography! You didn't let me finish!"
Wasn't that all worth the wait? :D
Monday, May 1, 2017
Saturday, April 22, 2017
Time to get boring
1 lb. of sound could take a mile quite a while.
Old-timey band name: The Racial Slurs
Salad mix brand name: Salad Ruckus
----------------
Boom! How was that for boring?
Old-timey band name: The Racial Slurs
Salad mix brand name: Salad Ruckus
----------------
Boom! How was that for boring?
Friday, April 21, 2017
Thursday, April 20, 2017
H'oh, fuuuuuuuck!
I got into motherfucking grad school!
Unless I'm mistaken and got accepted into Brad school. Or unless I'm mistaken and got incepted into grad school. Or unless I'm Ms. Taken and got accepted into grad school. Because then my name is wrong on all the paperwork.
Spent lots of time sort of crying and laughing today. Part of me is glad that the 5-ish years that I've spent working towards this finally paid off. Another part of me feels like I got away with something. Like, scammed this out of life. It's my more cynical side that feels like this is a victory against life.
There is a tremendous amount of work ahead of me. And it's so goddamn refreshing because it feels constructive again.
Unless I'm mistaken and got accepted into Brad school. Or unless I'm mistaken and got incepted into grad school. Or unless I'm Ms. Taken and got accepted into grad school. Because then my name is wrong on all the paperwork.
Spent lots of time sort of crying and laughing today. Part of me is glad that the 5-ish years that I've spent working towards this finally paid off. Another part of me feels like I got away with something. Like, scammed this out of life. It's my more cynical side that feels like this is a victory against life.
There is a tremendous amount of work ahead of me. And it's so goddamn refreshing because it feels constructive again.
Tuesday, April 18, 2017
I like my class
...but I also like the class I attend every Tuesday LOL.
It would be frustrating to have a bathroom in your residence like some public bathrooms. I'm specifically thinking of the sinks that have the big buttons you press, but turn off almost as soon as you let go, so that you can't actually rub your hands together under the water. And I guess if strangers were using it, that would be bad too.
In my class, there's an extra-credit assignment that involves watching the movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I listened to the person behind me explain it to the person next to her. It was a two-person game of "telephone" that had very faulty reception in the three feet between them. The last thing I heard was from the inquisitive one, trying to verify the name of the film:
"One Went Over the Cookie Nest?"
And then we watched a movie about people jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge, but this post should have ended at the last part.
It would be frustrating to have a bathroom in your residence like some public bathrooms. I'm specifically thinking of the sinks that have the big buttons you press, but turn off almost as soon as you let go, so that you can't actually rub your hands together under the water. And I guess if strangers were using it, that would be bad too.
In my class, there's an extra-credit assignment that involves watching the movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I listened to the person behind me explain it to the person next to her. It was a two-person game of "telephone" that had very faulty reception in the three feet between them. The last thing I heard was from the inquisitive one, trying to verify the name of the film:
"One Went Over the Cookie Nest?"
And then we watched a movie about people jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge, but this post should have ended at the last part.
Today, I got heat exhaustion
Which doesn't explain why I posted nothing yesterday (but I'm hoping to draw attention away from that, so shhh).
Sunday, April 16, 2017
Okay, these can just have titles now.
Here's a couple of violent scenarios I came up with earlier today, and I decided they count for this project. They're just about some dude.
1. I hope he cuts his own dick off. Like, gets a breadknife and saws it off. He's scared and confused as he does it, doesn't know why he can't stop himself, and just cuts it off.
2. Cutting his belly open and playing telephone booth with his body. Like, that game where people see how many people they can fit in a telephone booth. But just me and his body. And I just try to climb in, feet first, shoes on. It'd be impossible to do but just to see how far I could get.
Both of these, and others, were much funnier in the context of the conversation. So this is more of a textual shrine to what it once was.
1. I hope he cuts his own dick off. Like, gets a breadknife and saws it off. He's scared and confused as he does it, doesn't know why he can't stop himself, and just cuts it off.
2. Cutting his belly open and playing telephone booth with his body. Like, that game where people see how many people they can fit in a telephone booth. But just me and his body. And I just try to climb in, feet first, shoes on. It'd be impossible to do but just to see how far I could get.
Both of these, and others, were much funnier in the context of the conversation. So this is more of a textual shrine to what it once was.
Friday, April 14, 2017
13
This Easter, hide human eggs. This fun (o)variation on the traditional hunt will keep your family and friends entertained all Sunday!
On a less related note, I watched Sandy Wexler in its entirety for some reason. The funniest part about it was that I did that. I rate it thereisnogod/10.
On a less related note, I watched Sandy Wexler in its entirety for some reason. The funniest part about it was that I did that. I rate it thereisnogod/10.
Thursday, April 13, 2017
12
- Salt & Vinegar soda
- Mighty Morphine Power Rangers
These are the gems produced by a day of toil and deep reflection.
Namaste.
- Mighty Morphine Power Rangers
These are the gems produced by a day of toil and deep reflection.
Namaste.
Wednesday, April 12, 2017
10
Completely spaced about yesterday's bit on here! I was that exhausted.
Not feeling too down about it, though. I'm here this time, and yesterday was a pretty good day, to boot.
You know, today was pretty good, too. First not-anxious Tuesday I've had since February. I know this because Tuesday evenings is when my class takes place. Either it always makes me anxious or I'm just always anxious as Tuesdays draw to a close. It honestly could be either way.
Don't count your chickens before they hatch, but count your eggs while you still have them. Whatever, this entry is done :)
Not feeling too down about it, though. I'm here this time, and yesterday was a pretty good day, to boot.
You know, today was pretty good, too. First not-anxious Tuesday I've had since February. I know this because Tuesday evenings is when my class takes place. Either it always makes me anxious or I'm just always anxious as Tuesdays draw to a close. It honestly could be either way.
Don't count your chickens before they hatch, but count your eggs while you still have them. Whatever, this entry is done :)
Sunday, April 9, 2017
Saturday, April 8, 2017
8
To Kill a Mockingbird: DIY
Formal swimwear
Nude Still-life, Oil and canvas
On that note, if someone paints a dead body, is it a still-life? In the above line, I was just thinking of a naked fern.
I went on a nice walk today. Not being clever here, I just walked. But I did pass a restaurant called Duck House, and then halfway down the block I thought "Fuck à l'Orange" was a funny phrase. Still wasn't being clever.
Formal swimwear
Nude Still-life, Oil and canvas
On that note, if someone paints a dead body, is it a still-life? In the above line, I was just thinking of a naked fern.
I went on a nice walk today. Not being clever here, I just walked. But I did pass a restaurant called Duck House, and then halfway down the block I thought "Fuck à l'Orange" was a funny phrase. Still wasn't being clever.
Friday, April 7, 2017
7
Wikipedia defines a "good habit" as "a professional touring band mostly from Penarth in South Wales, active 1970-1975."
"Food for thought". Such as a pie with a creamy logic filling, or a cheese molded through a non-maleficence culture. Or a karmic marmalade. Or as Wikipedia defines it, "the first single released by British reggae band, UB40."
"Food for thought". Such as a pie with a creamy logic filling, or a cheese molded through a non-maleficence culture. Or a karmic marmalade. Or as Wikipedia defines it, "the first single released by British reggae band, UB40."
6
Having been out all day from morning til night for wholesome reasons, I'm going to take this opportunity to comfortably write an acknowledgement here: that I did still show up to write something.
Seriously, it's okay :3
Seriously, it's okay :3
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
5
B is for the breakfast burrito I am eating.
b is also for the second breakfast burrito I'm going to eat.
b was for the third one I ate just now.
What else starts with b?:
Words.
Scholars maintain that it's possible for up to one in every twenty-six words to begin with b.
It may seem that very few words do this. Or it may seem like all the important ones do, depending on where you open a book and if it's a dictionary.
The letter B is given a solo in such famous names as Rutherford B. Hayes, the USA's 19th president who "failed to convince the South to accept the idea of racial equality and failed to convince Congress to appropriate funds to enforce civil rights laws" (Hoogenboom, Ari; Rutherford Hayes: Warrior and President, pp 317-318), but also Johnny B. Goode.
So the next time you eat a thing, take a moment to stop and think and make yourself come up with something to say.
b is also for the second breakfast burrito I'm going to eat.
b was for the third one I ate just now.
What else starts with b?:
Words.
Scholars maintain that it's possible for up to one in every twenty-six words to begin with b.
It may seem that very few words do this. Or it may seem like all the important ones do, depending on where you open a book and if it's a dictionary.
The letter B is given a solo in such famous names as Rutherford B. Hayes, the USA's 19th president who "failed to convince the South to accept the idea of racial equality and failed to convince Congress to appropriate funds to enforce civil rights laws" (Hoogenboom, Ari; Rutherford Hayes: Warrior and President, pp 317-318), but also Johnny B. Goode.
So the next time you eat a thing, take a moment to stop and think and make yourself come up with something to say.
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
4
After much salt with typing yesterday, I wanted to draw something today. But I'm way too sick. Here's things I was wanting to draw:
- A drone with "ACME" printed in big letters on the side. Not the civilian drones with propellers, I mean the drone-strike type of drone
- Bird seed used as lure in a trap where an anvil predictably falls on it, but the bird seed is poisoned
- "ACME" frozen dinner
- A drone with "ACME" printed in big letters on the side. Not the civilian drones with propellers, I mean the drone-strike type of drone
- Bird seed used as lure in a trap where an anvil predictably falls on it, but the bird seed is poisoned
- "ACME" frozen dinner
Sunday, April 2, 2017
2
Sick today. Swapping it with tomorrow, calling out of work.
She lied on the couch with her eyes shut. Her head was against one armrest and her feet atop the other. Trying to feel asleep. The tv's been on. Her daughter's in the loveseat two feet from her head.
Breathing is a part of what makes blood work. But people hold their breath for a lot of reasons. Superstition, driving by a cemetery. Tantrums. Orgasmic upgrade. Playing along with scenes in movies when a character is submerged.
She didn't know she was holding it. None of them know, it's a family trait.
Inhale. Hold, hold, hold, then: audible nasal exhalation that sounds like fingers snapping, muted in a sinusoidal cave. Breathing is largely a subconscious action taken by a brain to keep its system alive. This system, then kept functioning, can come to resent its own trappings.
Continually holding one's breath subconsciously; what if an anxious mind could will its own body's blood to not clot? This thought opens her eyes.
"Mom, are you watching this?"
The TV has been on.
The answer is a long, pointed exhalation. Words are complicit with a waking life. Neither hears the other not breathing.
Both of their thoughts start in a bedroom at the end of the hallway through the wall. In it lies a child of eighteen years. In him is a respiration dictated by the wildness of information that exists in media. He insisted he be alone while he performed certain rituals. I obliged and stood in the hallway.
She lied on the couch with her eyes shut. Her head was against one armrest and her feet atop the other. Trying to feel asleep. The tv's been on. Her daughter's in the loveseat two feet from her head.
Breathing is a part of what makes blood work. But people hold their breath for a lot of reasons. Superstition, driving by a cemetery. Tantrums. Orgasmic upgrade. Playing along with scenes in movies when a character is submerged.
She didn't know she was holding it. None of them know, it's a family trait.
Inhale. Hold, hold, hold, then: audible nasal exhalation that sounds like fingers snapping, muted in a sinusoidal cave. Breathing is largely a subconscious action taken by a brain to keep its system alive. This system, then kept functioning, can come to resent its own trappings.
Continually holding one's breath subconsciously; what if an anxious mind could will its own body's blood to not clot? This thought opens her eyes.
"Mom, are you watching this?"
The TV has been on.
The answer is a long, pointed exhalation. Words are complicit with a waking life. Neither hears the other not breathing.
Both of their thoughts start in a bedroom at the end of the hallway through the wall. In it lies a child of eighteen years. In him is a respiration dictated by the wildness of information that exists in media. He insisted he be alone while he performed certain rituals. I obliged and stood in the hallway.
1
I was automatically logged in to an account I opened almost eight years ago. That's a head start already.
My rules for this are:
1. Write something here every day for the next thirty days, including today. It's almost midnight, so a "day" will be determined by my sleep cycle. This counts as today's entry.
2. The bare minimum I'm allowed to write is a description of a picture that will be determined by googling the phrase "random word" then image searching whatever random word comes up.
3. There is no word count minimum. I'll go with what feels right at the time, and feel bad about it later.
4. I can doodle something and post the image if that's what I want to do for that day.
5. I can add to or remove any of these rules as I feel like it. I also won't make it explicit if I do.
That last rule kind of frees me up from thinking of any more rules, so this will do for now. Hey, also I finished this before midnight. Rule one still holds though. For now (refer to rule five)
Oh wait, here's a scenario I thought of in a restroom earlier:
Man 1 and Man 2 enter a public restroom. There is one toilet stall and two urinals. One of the urinals is lowered to allow for children to use it. A standard design.
Man 1 reaches the adult-height urinal first. Man 2 stares at the lower urinal for a second, then decides to use the toilet instead.
Man 1: "What's the matter, can't you pee that low?"
In the vein of public restrooms, here's another:
I'll use Italics but I'm actually just going to describe the premise. It involves someone notifying a member of a restaurant staff that the baby-changing station in the restroom is broken because he put his baby on it and it's still the same baby.
My rules for this are:
1. Write something here every day for the next thirty days, including today. It's almost midnight, so a "day" will be determined by my sleep cycle. This counts as today's entry.
2. The bare minimum I'm allowed to write is a description of a picture that will be determined by googling the phrase "random word" then image searching whatever random word comes up.
3. There is no word count minimum. I'll go with what feels right at the time, and feel bad about it later.
4. I can doodle something and post the image if that's what I want to do for that day.
5. I can add to or remove any of these rules as I feel like it. I also won't make it explicit if I do.
That last rule kind of frees me up from thinking of any more rules, so this will do for now. Hey, also I finished this before midnight. Rule one still holds though. For now (refer to rule five)
Oh wait, here's a scenario I thought of in a restroom earlier:
Man 1 and Man 2 enter a public restroom. There is one toilet stall and two urinals. One of the urinals is lowered to allow for children to use it. A standard design.
Man 1 reaches the adult-height urinal first. Man 2 stares at the lower urinal for a second, then decides to use the toilet instead.
Man 1: "What's the matter, can't you pee that low?"
In the vein of public restrooms, here's another:
I'll use Italics but I'm actually just going to describe the premise. It involves someone notifying a member of a restaurant staff that the baby-changing station in the restroom is broken because he put his baby on it and it's still the same baby.
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