Thursday, July 26, 2007

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

beginning the end.

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featuring Sonic Youth, Love, Brian Eno, Talking Heads, David Bowie, Panda Bear, ABBA, The Cure, Black Tambourine, Julee Cruise, Women & Children, Final Fantasy, Donovan, Comus, Justin Heathcliff (a.k.a. Dr. Osamu Kitajima), Sam Cooke, Serge Gainsbourg


Tuesday, July 24, 2007

there's not enough room for all the bitches in this world.

this is taken from your daily awesome...

“This essay was written by an 8th grader in Pittsburgh in the spring of 2004. The assignment was to pick an enangered species, and explain why it’s important to save it. The typos and formatting are preserved from the original.”

I shouldn't do shit. I don't care about them they all
could die and it won't affect my life. I know a lot about them
but I don't need to think about them. They're just a waste of
time koalas are stupid they don't help me with shit so why
should I help them. If they all die there will be more room for
the panthers and all the other hard animals. Koalas are weak a
pit will get rid of their whole fucking family. That's why I
don't like koalas.
Koalas have sharp claws but they are weak. They all small
and fat and they be climing trees. I hope a storm just come
while theyjust chilling up in the tree thinking they is hard and
they're will all just fall off. They just break they neck and
shit. When they fall they claws are going to fall off and they
going to be crying like some little bitches.
Koalas aren't hard they some little bitches. They start
climbing up the tree soon as they see a deer from like 50feet
away. They stupid as hell they should put their brain in their
pouch and put the kid in they ten they're be able to think
better. They try to be in the fucking kangaroo family. They weak
as hell, talking bout they got a pouch a kangaroo so they their
cousins and shit. Kangaroo's have some big ass legs and whot do
a koala got? Some little ass legs, they tails is little and weak
as fuck kangaroo's got a big ass long tail that can kill a
fucking koala.
If a koala goes in the water it won't be able to breathe
with its little short ass. It'd fucking drown soon aas it take
one step into the water. While they at the river trying to get
something to drink a bear could just come to him and snatch its
ass up. It doesn't know protection because they don't have
protection. What they little ass going to do? It can't scratch
him. The bear will beat his fucking ass.
The important think about koalas is that just don't care
about tem and let them die by all the other animals in
Australia. They're not important just let nature do what it do
and kill them. Koalas do not have a place in this world there's
not enough room for all the bitches in this world. So let all
the koalas that's in the zoos and shit. Let them go and put them
back with their family. If you let them all go they won't
nothing except for that's what they was put in this world for.
Now you know why koalas aren't important. They have
nothing to do except for sitting around in the trees. It's like
they just was like they was sent have to die. Koalas don't do
nothing to help anybody. Thre would be just one more relative of
the kangaroo that will be six feet under. Now you know why
koalas are not important because there are dumb.

Thursday, July 19, 2007


belated birthday ode

Perilously positioned betwixt Lady Luck's loaded 7/11/07 and Urban Myth's cursed calendrical coincidence, Friday the 13th, Raina's birthday observations have been carefully considered to fend off the feint of heart and faith this year. Slot-machine enthusiasts have joined with numerologically inclined occultists in a rare show of solidarity to champion the position that such a contraposition of fortune is of no uncertain significance. A leading expert on unlikelihood suggested that anomalies of this sort were, indeed, unlikely to occur very often. Others have posited that a twenty-second birthday event occuring under these circumstances must have been the work of generously but mysteriously funded conspirators operating surreptitiously for purposes apparently menacing yet benign in actuality. But, armed with the evidence and a sense, however ambiguous, of divine providence, the faithful nevertheless continue to convene in order to express their appreciation for the boldness of heart, bounty of benevolence and incandescence of presence that is: RAINA!

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

speaking of 'P'...

i fucking love pie... obsessively so... like a fat kid loves cake (or pie for that matter...)...
i try, frequently and frantically, to coerce others into participating in this fetish like compulsion towards these amazing little pockets of love; commonly to no avail... text messages go unanswered, myspace bullitens commented on but never acted on... its frustrating. especially because i'm an overtly nuerotic person... i generally refuse to do things on my own (i have this thing about context and how things need to be witnessed to be valid... how horrible is that?)... so there in lies the problem, how the fuck do i get my pie if no one wants to come along?
mission pie is far and away one of the best things that ever happened to san francisco... and for a short time this guy is making it better.

Monday, July 16, 2007

an exercise in P

Rowan was given a list of words starting with "P" and 20 minutes later handed me this:

The pogrom served its purpose. With the pigfucker lying prostrate, ostensibly in penury, guilty as he felt over the pixelate polyps infesting his palacious undercarriage, the pistol-wielding pontiff, whose piddling improprieties were no secret, assumed the position. Which is to say, we all gathered reverently (in no small part in consideration of the pistol) in some prescribed polygonal formation, at which point our polygamous orator proceeded to circumnavigate the punitive consequences of his progesterone-induced pandemonium. Well if a night of parabolic and uncertain profundity desperately espoused to the tune of the most pedestrian prog-rock stylings doesn't ring as true as ptocin-fuelled contemporary birth ceremony, then friend you know nothing of a purposeful pogrom, and so your Paxil-pacified plenitude may yet benefit from a proper pillaging by characters of no uncertain negritude.

umm... ew.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

sea horse, sea hell.

for those of you that haven't seen this yet.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

maribou stork

christianity, sept. 11th, and the fed.

it's long, but you need to watch this.

Saturday, July 7, 2007

tampering with sweetness

by nicole hagen, currently on view at edo salon. she's amazing. go see it. click on the images themselves to see them larger, and see more here.

chloe desert mirage

brain eating quilt worms 8.5" x 11"

sleepover in the quilt cave 3.5' x 8'

Thursday, July 5, 2007


"Count Gottfried von Bismarck, who was found dead on Monday aged 44, was a louche German aristocrat with a multi-faceted history as a pleasure-seeking heroin addict, hell-raising alcoholic, flamboyant waster and a reckless and extravagant host of homosexual orgies."

Count Gottfried von Bismarck

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

the i-phone hates your freedom.

I'm riding on a train right now... Blogging on my pearl, listening to my ipod, flipping through images on my digital in the future.
Where the fuck is my hoverboard? And why isn't this train powered by magnets?

Sunday, July 1, 2007

i want you to dress up like a construction worker and...

please watch the whole thing.