December 2010
13 posts
packing
packing is picking the little pieces out of your closet that are most important and arranging them in a way that will please.
it is biting your lip through when the ice cream hits before a live studio audience and only tasting the blood, the numbness of your dominant hand, three two-minutes later (we don’t pack that part with us, by the way. it stays behind, folded with the Obama shirt and the...
there's one thing you can always count on
christmas.
anxiously anticipated trips home.
must y’all always shoot yourselves in the gol’dern foot??
privacy settings
if i don’t know you, how’s come i can look at every photo you’ve every taken in your life on Facebook?
check your privacy settings, yo.
art weird art
school, that whole chunk of time of it, was a very weird time. it moved quickly, in and out and in and out. the slowest part of any day, of all three years, were the train rides, and even then my heart was racing to make up for it because i knew i was going to be late. and three lates equals an absence, and four absences equals a fail. even if you go home for a funeral your teacher will call...
reminders you don't need
if you don’t pay your bullshit parking tickets on time, they will double in cost. yes, double. i can only hold out hope that one day people will pay me lots of money for what i do. i’m not sure what i do…so…
here’s $240, Chicago. merry fuggin christmas. (new year’s pay should cover that sucker punch, anyway)
there isn’t much to say right now, which is...
i saw a kid get arrested at Target tonight. also, yes, i went to Target. i am of limited means and the prescription drugs are cheapest there. it does not mean that i like them, or that i shop there for anything else. except i did have to buy a bag of frozen vegetables for dinner.
freedom grope follow-up
oh! i forgot—
we got bumped on the base plane from Andros to the panhandle. a noon flight was made a 4pm, and so we went to the beach for one more day in it. we are paying for it now, upon our return, covered by sand flea bites that itch worse than mosquitoes.
on the way back into the States, we were just breezing right on through security in West Palm Beach with no one in front or behind...
the cyclist's lament
The unattended Chicago roadway patch neglected in the pitch ‘tis a loathsome quandary. Recessed hyphens and underscores creep into a Midwestern climate that follows suit precipitous fallen moisture to frozen harden swollen angry violent grown too great for a dirty little hole in blood pavement— who the fuck owns the roads here now anyway? Ice like welfare hermit crabs bustin’...