cataloguing 1000 shades of white

laundry

Hand-embroidered laundry bag I just bought:

I almost cried when I found this. What can I say? I'm a moody person.
What am I going to put in it? Not laundry!

make me psychic

I am a big fan of animator Sally Cruikshank. Her work is delightfully bonkers and she seems like a cool person.


I just found her blog!
"Quasi at the Quackadero" is a favorite, but I can't embed it. She also did this part for the Twilight Zone movie that I think is funnier out of context.




Since my computer died I've been going through dusty stacks of cd's looking for stuff to re-upload, and finding all kinds of music I forgot I liked. Bands like The Gerbils? And The Black Heart Procession? That I listened to alllll the time in 2001? It's giving me feelings somewhere between nostalgia and indigestion.

regarding french manicures

Everyone knows that a french manicure is what separates ladies from you-know-whats.
They are a brilliant evolutionary ruse to trick potential mates into thinking that your fingernails are glamorous and clean.


One time on the bus I saw a woman wearing sandals with a french pedicure, (bear with me) featuring tips painted a deep crimson instead of white, and I mean the color of dried blood. It was all I could do to maintain my sanity.

Someday I will be to french manicures what Louis Wain was to cats.

The last time I was at a beauty-supply store I perused the peroxide aisle singing this song I had just made up:

"french manicures are the most beautiful kind of manicure
until you get a french manicure
you are not a real woman"



I am publishing these lyrics under a creative commons license, which means you're allowed to use the song but you have to give me credit. If you don't, I get to come to your house and Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte, etc:



Bruce Dern = you
Meat Cleaver = my fists

You might think that my reluctance to damage an immaculate french manicure would deter me from pulverizing my enemies, but you would be wrong, friend.

betches go to prison

My bestie Cat just sent me this and I died. Why was I allowed to watch this show? It gave me all kinds of wrong ideas. I remember there was a lot of fainting involved, dramatic fainting, which was totally my jam at the time.

quit it, melanie!

So I spend half the weekend painstakingly building frames and stretching canvas, and now I get a perfect snow day and the house all to myself. Why am I procrastinating with inane youtubes?? I'm blaming Melanie for this, and for all my other problems too. Why not? Oh yeah, have you seen her website? Meet you in the Meditation Room!

leonora

"Every teenager's mind is a haunted house."

I want you to really look at yourself.

more gorgeous means more horseradish

I'm trying to figure out what I want in the coming months in the most elemental fashion, so that it can be accepted by the simplest part of my brain. I once read that your subconscious can't assimilate negative statements as facts, so you have to tell your brain what you want in the most straightforward positive way possible. I wonder if that's true or if I was reading the Hippie Bullshit Your Relatives Forward You Digest. Anyway, what I'm thinking about is "more gorgeous", and for some reason my brain associates this phrase with horseradish-infused vodka, and I can't stop thinking about it.


I don't even like vodka. But I like this stuff. I went to a cafe in New York that makes their own, and the waiters are handsome.

I also like the fact that you can hallucinate dancing horses if you tape ping-pong balls over your eyes and listen to static on the radio. I wish I had known this when I was 13 or so.

I bought this giant skull mug on my lunch break today,

and told my coworker I was going to fill it with horseradish vodka, and then I was really going to tell everybody what's what. It was pretty funny because there's no amount of anything in the world that would motivate either of us to tell anyone what's what, because we're constitutionally opposed to things like that.

tonight I am delighted to be celebrating the construction of this beautiful sand castle

I was wondering what the very limit is, I think this is it

(this comment was not a response to any other comment.)

back in the day part 2

This is a very real anxiety I used to have. I think it came from "A Nightmare on Elm Street" originally.

Oh my god, Johnny Depp is such a loser in that movie.

back in the day part 1

coffee cups on etsy
"Pure white with gold rings, very nice cups and saucers. They are in perfect condition. I guess I really did drink alot of coffee "back in the day"; all different kinds, made in all kinds of pots, and drunk from all kinds of cups. Oh, well, I guess I'm over it."

Why don't more people sell things via bizarre little stories?

what I lack is sleep restraint

Look how blissed-out she is!

throbbing or melting? I couldn't tell you...

Can you think of a more disturbing question proposed by a movie poster than this one here, "what did they lack?"

painted bollywood film posters

so good

I just get these impulses sometimes

My friend Joe told me about this video the other day, and it's amazing, as are most things he tells me about.

three things too beautiful

left over

R.I.D.I.C.U.L.O.U.S.

I went on vacation. Then I came back and my computer had commited suicide in my absence. I guess we had a complicated relationship, but this just beyond the limit. I backed up some things now and then, but not enough. It's so creepy how we (ok, I) use these fallible machines as secondary brains or something and you put your whole life on it. If my hard drive was a house the Collyer brothers would live there. I had stuff like this collection of screen caps of Agent Scully just pointing a flashlight at different things. You know, "art reference", the umbrella term I use to explain the massive dunes of bizarre effluvia that I can't stop myself from building around me. I lost a lot of music and personal photos too but I can't even think about it.
This is the attitude I'm trying to have about it:


Last week I tried on $800 perfume and my glove still smells like it.