I did things and then put the results on the INTERWEBS!
And not a one of you fucks are surprised.
Studio Z and DNA Lounge.
2006.02.24.
Important news! My brain twinsie Ed has started an lj. Have you met this wonderful man? He says words! Here. Here’s a picture to convince you!
Okay, I’m going to stop. Sleep at this point is that distant uncle nobody talks to who is going to arrive way late to the family reunion to pooh on the kitchen counter and throw the family dog through the window.
Yeah, I don’t go to family reunions anymore.
Because I have Ed. Okay, no, I’m lying there.
Seriously, your guess is as good as mine on this one. We’ll leave these posts in the crock pot longer, we promise.
jay
who drives a
mercedes
beeeeeee.
George and Lydia’s
and
Moulton Studios
2006.02.19
Yes, I really am this far behind on pictures.
On this night, Nic and I went to Mel’s at about 3 am. Girls from USC attempted to pick us up by sending Cokes over.
I didn’t know you could even still do that.
A hint, ladies. You want me you buy me a fucking MILKSHAKE.
n j l
MY MOTHER WAS IN A CAR ACCIDENT LAST NIGHT AND HIT HER HEAD ON SOMETHING HARD.
My father has the flu.
My grandfather needs to get his prostate shrunk by some sort of death ray. Because he has the prostate cancer, you know.
My grandmother needs to go to the neurologist tomorrow because her cancer ridden what have you has come up with something else that is wrong with it.
I swear to god, I am ready to fire my entire family.
Never take your recently concussed mother out to a quiet dinner. Inevitably she’ll start talking to the waitress and the waitress will tell your mom how she has a son too. He’s seven and she is already nostalgic for the way he was when he was younger. Mom then basically tells the waitress to walk it off because her son is almost twenty four and OH LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT NOSTALGIA.
Because, you know, Mom’s already certifiable anyway. In that really endearing way. Concussions at this point can only help.
Then this discussion happens:
Jay: “I’m just saying, maybe you shouldn’t have, you know, lectured the woman.”
Mom: “Well she’ll just have to wait until all she gets from her son is a text message! And he calls randomly while driving! And it’s the highlight of her week!”
Jay: “Maybe you should get out more.”
Mom: “I KNOW.”
Then her headache comes back and there’s a hilarious forty second delay between sentences. It’s cool, I pretend my conversations are routed through like four satellites all the time anyway.
n j l
The Isotope - 2006.02.06
IN WHICH:
- Grant Morrison talks funny.
- I get over a fear of jungle gyms.
- Ed and I make fools of ourselves in front of people whose work we admire.
- … and crying in public!
First Isotope party for us in a while, this was. Also possibly the first Isotope party in which I didn’t inadvertantly hit on the girlfriend of some creator I admire. Which explains our lack of recent attendence. But whatever. The point is, gin and tonics were served. In pint glasses.
That seemed like a great idea at the time. Everything seemed like it was something new to be done for the first time.
Which was also really hilarious the next day, when I had to remember how to breathe again.
Also! Quote from the last 48 hours:
"Why was it you decided to kiss me at that point?"
"I had just peed off a bridge, so I was feeling pretty good about myself."
That’s the Petaluma River I was talking about, folks. Not easy.
And I mean, there were other reasons too.
jay
who is wonderful
in a loathesome
sort of
way.
Old Ironside
2006.02.04
Hipster clubs scare the shit out of me, truth be told. I don’t care how much I like the music. If the chick next to me looks like an extra from a Bangles video I’m going to start laughing my Special Laugh and I’m not going to stop.
jay
whose got to
give it up
if he wants to
live it up.
I’m going to find whichever goddamn fairy that came into my room last night and sprinkled me with whatever dust it is you sprinkle someone with when you want their lungs to hate, you know, air, and I’m going to do horrible things to it. The fairy. Okay?
Ow.
Plus, you know, I’m already bizarrely sick, so doing the whole sick + ALLERGIC TO ACTIVITY REQUIRED TO KEEP ME ALIVE (breathing) is absolutely a joy. But I’m a go getter.
Of course, this also requires me to go actually walk around Target to try and find like five pounds of Claritin to imbibe. Plus every homeopathic remedy that’s ever been waved in front of my nose.
All I did was get out of bed this morning (and just barely). I did not plan for my body to become the main battleground of Eastern Vs. Western medicine. No I did not.
What else is funny about this is that nobody invited my actual fucking immune system to the party.
But that’s okay, because my nose is running and my decision making process has been turned over to my great grandmother Carmella. She’s doing a better job than I ever could and she’s been dead since 1985.
And that’s how I end up at Target, shivering for no good reason and sniffling while trying to count money so I can buy my damn Claritin.
Of course, to everyone else I just look like some fuck who’s crying to the underage girl at check-stand 8.
Happy Monday.
nathaniel j. laney
Witness my father and I, watching the log fire thing on the TV for like no reason at all. The two of us got really confused upon seeing a hand put another log on the fire.
A debate ensued as to whether or not we should call KQED and ask them to stoke the fucker.
My father sees a kitten and decides what he must do is get out the golf balls. Later, lemons are chased.
At my mom’s, the Easy Listening channel is playing whatever Christmas music you play when you are trying to kill your family.
A note, written on an envelope. Note: Diane is my mom’s name.
Diane- Mike found this at dog school school
when he went to potty the girls - is it yours?
Underneath, my mom has written PENCILS, underlined it twice, put a box around it, and a square around that.
Merry Christmas.
jay
The MAKE crew got custom printed Moleskines.
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This has driven me ‘round the bend with jealousy. In other news, Nic’s been home sick for a week.
At the very least, I know he’s much worse off than I am.
