Saturday, October 24, 2009

So Far..... (AD)


So far, life is kinda boring, Ive seen 2 movies this month, Where The Wild Things are and The Invention Of Lying, BOTH WERE FUCKING AWESOME, especially The Invention Of Lying, I laughed and cried during both of those movies, god I am pathetic, what is it Cry-tober?
Peach cut me some bangs, So this means 2 things, 1. I lost bet number two but its okay neither of us really cared AND 2.I love having bangs it was torture when they grew out during bet number one
Isn't she adorable with her magenta infused Do?(she used to be a model, I shit you not, she used to do run way stuff and she was offered to go to Milan, but she didn't really enjoy it so shes happy being a normal wacko person like me) and for some reason my teeth look gnashed and crooked in this picture ALSO Brew is dating Peaches older brother!, SO THE YOU TUBE VIDEOS! I use a camera phone, and I can only send videos under one minute so that's why the videos are short, also I sound like a weird man, and etc etc etc excuses, TODAY I SAW THAT THEY SOLD TANK GIRL IN A REALLY FAR AWAY MALL FROM ME!!! for all three of the TG graphic novels it would of cost me 45 bucks altogether and I didn't even have a penny, AHHHHHHRRRRGG!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

WHAT ARE YO HALLOWEEN PLANS? (AD)


I think I just might dress up like Zombie Chaplin and get drunk, but the moment the hat falls off people will think I am zombie Hitler, So I just might be a mighty boosh character

A video for you Michael Jackson fans (AD)

this is for real, fur eel, Furry Eels!

Monday, October 19, 2009

What makes you unique? (AD)

well I am disappointed that no one commented on my last post, I was expecting everyone to have an opinion, I do have a counter on here, and out of those 40 views from the last 2 days none of them had something to say hmmmmm

well I made a YouTube video, can you guys handle commenting on THAT, seriosuly I thought people were dieing to share their thoughts, (yikes I sound like a dude) My name on YouTube is Panic Pistol, I made that account years ago so thats the reason for the fact that its not Alabaster Disaster


Saturday, October 17, 2009

"Fight Sexism In Our Scene" topic (AD)


recently ( like a couple of weeks ago) on the PRD forum a topic was posted called "fight sexism in our scene"
let me start by saying I don't live in Chicago, I am not a Feminist because I am more of a libertarian (I focus more on rights as a whole not really as a gender) nor have I ever come in contact or witnessed the "Chi-town 77" but this problem is universal, men having a problem with girls at concerts or in the punk scene solely because of their gender or opinions, it does need to stop, its obnoxious, juvenile, and completely fucking lame. here is what some of the posters had to say
IrishAbsinthe:"Chicago ladies, and ladies everywhere else.
I'd had it up to fucking here. I've had it up to here with girls being treated like fucking meat, with girls who aren't fighters getting punched by men who want to shut them up (Chi-town 77) and by fuckwads taking advantage of drunk girls at parties. I don't want to be subjugated in my scene anymore. I don't want other girls who might not know how to stand up for themselves to be. So what do we do? Maybe I have this mother hen instinct to protect young girls in the scene from this bullshit, no matter how much my personal ties might conflict with theirs or whatever, but I am just plain tired of all this bullshit. Maybe we should write a zine or something? Handing it out at shows it effective because I've never known a punk to just drop a zine on the ground. It's interesting and its memorabilia, so its effective.Maybe I should start handing out fliers at shows with this sweet ass hand drawn "fight sexism in our scene" drawing. Maybe I just start pulling girls aside and talking to them about their experiances and writing it down. Maybe we should start a fucking girl band like i've been wanting to do forever. Amanda, Molly, Meg, do any of you play intruments? I sing like a motherfucker.Excuse the late night ramblings but im kind of off my rocker currently and I am tired of hearing about another girl whos party got crashed and she got beat up or pee'd on just because she was a girl who dared to open her mouth."

MissVicious:
ugh in our scene almost any girl either has to put out, or be a bitch, to get in. Sometimes if you are awesome enough the guys wont taunt you :/yeah, it goes abot 50/50 because a lot of girls want the "quick way" in, and have no self respect. They also dont last very long... because they think being a slut is what it's all about.

Gia:"
I mean, honestly, girls ask for it sometimes. Either by saying some shit to a guy, or picking a fight with one, thinking that they're 'omgz tuff' because they know they won't get hit back. I'm not saying that these girls should get their asses kicked, but it's asinine to expect guys to take their shit. Pulling the 'sexism' card won't help either."

JADED YOUTH:"
hmm.. i was raised up with it being almsot like a gang.. but i dont remember shitheads targetting girls. I mean im all for solidarity that came with being in our crew. more so than some lame kid suddenly professing themselves a punk and showing up to shows. It didnt happen like that you had to prove your worth.. but i never had to deal with straight up retardation like 77 bullshit... thats just yeah."

Geminta : "Something my Granny used to tell me was that "if the girls wouldn't, the boys couldn't." Essentially, if the females did not allow themselves to be treated in this manner, it simply would not happen."

MeritaViola: "It gets a bit difficult to push back when there are 10 or so of them.
And with club security.. what are they gonna do? Toss 'em on the street? Ok, sure. But then what? Then folks are just supposed to magically get home safe and sound?
As for protecting yourself... meh, there's only so much you can do beyond staying with your friends (particularly if they look strong, haha) They don't really target people who are smarter than them, or look like they can take care of themselves. Pretty typical of this kind of attitude, people being picked on are mainly people who are
1. new and eager to make friends in the scene (yes, there are brown nosers in punk, too)
2. small or otherwise unable to really do anything to protect themselves (drunk, alone, young, etc..)
3. stupid or have submitted to the idea that men can treat women like crap.
yea.... bullying is super manly."

wwwwwwwwwwwhat is your opinion on this? if you have anything to add feel free to comment and discuss, even lurkers and annoymous readers can comment and contribute.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Como se dice "sexual harassment" y "obnoxious"? (AD)


(we pretty much behaved like these guys, but instead of raping and beating people we ate pizza)
Jess asked me to make a post elaborating on Sunday night dinner, in short I harassed everyone, First I pretended I was on an episode of super sweet sixteen and told the waitress that I was a princess, luckily she had a sense of humor, before I saw my friend Ben come into the restaurant I saw that he was wearing a Tye dye shirt so I yelled "WHATS UP LIEUTENANT FAG!" to which he just laughed, I asked the waitress if the male staff would give us all lap dances for my birthday, she brought one waiter to the back room and told him to dance, he just looked horrified and left. also Sarah and Nick wanted to leave the She Male Porn DVD as a tip, but I liked the pizza there so I told them not to.

Monday, October 12, 2009

My New Tattoo (and other space oddities) (AD)


(sexy Bowie cake!) (very bad picture and the mirror reversed it but actually its upside down it says CCXXII)
yesterday was my birthday, me (mi?) madre gave me stamps and cardigans, I also got the following Items from the unbilogical clan: A sugar skull ashtray, A fine Cuban Cigar (we all tried to smoke it but it took forever so we stubbed it out and decided to save the rest for a rainy day), A bottle of Baileys, 2 Lotto tickets, Old Gregg water colors, A set of 7 Harmonicas, A she male porn DVD (yeah WTF guys?), Pygmy by Chuck Paliniuk (book), A pack of marlboro reds, 2 felt bats, A glorious tattoo (which I have a shitty picture of), and Brew made me a David Bowie cake

Friday, October 9, 2009

My favorite poem ever (its very long) (AD)

"Howl" by Allen Ginsberg

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machin-
ery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities
contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and
saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tene-
ment roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes
hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy
among the scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy &
publishing obscene odes on the windows of the
skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burn-
ing their money in wastebaskets and listening
to the Terror through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through
Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in
Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their
torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, al-
cohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud and
lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of
Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the mo-
tionless world of Time between,
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery
dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops,
storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon
blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree
vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brook-
lyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,
who chained themselves to subways for the endless
ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine
until the noise of wheels and children brought
them down shuddering mouth-wracked and
battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance
in the drear light of Zoo,
who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford’s
floated out and sat through the stale beer after
noon in desolate Fugazzi’s, listening to the crack
of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,
who talked continuously seventy hours from park to
pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brook-
lyn Bridge,
lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping
down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills
off Empire State out of the moon,
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts
and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks
and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days
and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the
Synagogue cast on the pavement,
who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a
trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic
City Hall,
suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grind-
ings and migraines of China under junk-with-
drawal in Newark’s bleak furnished room,
who wandered around and around at midnight in the
railroad yard wondering where to go, and went,
leaving no broken hearts,
who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing
through snow toward lonesome farms in grand-
father night,
who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telep-
athy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos in-
stinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,
who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking vis-
ionary indian angels who were visionary indian
angels,
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore
gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Okla-
homa on the impulse of winter midnight street
light smalltown rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston
seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the
brilliant Spaniard to converse about America
and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship
to Africa,
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving
behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees
and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fire
place Chicago,
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the
F.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist
eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incom-
prehensible leaflets,
who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting
the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union
Square weeping and undressing while the sirens
of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed
down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also
wailed,
who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked
and trembling before the machinery of other
skeletons,
who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight
in policecars for committing no crime but their
own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,
who howled on their knees in the subway and were
dragged off the roof waving genitals and manu-
scripts,
who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly
motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,
who blew and were blown by those human seraphim,
the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean
love,
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rose
gardens and the grass of public parks and
cemeteries scattering their semen freely to
whomever come who may,
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up
with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath
when the blond & naked angel came to pierce
them with a sword,
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate
the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar
the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb
and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but
sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden
threads of the craftsman’s loom,
who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of
beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a can-
dle and fell off the bed, and continued along
the floor and down the hall and ended fainting
on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and
come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling
in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning
but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sun
rise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked
in the lake,
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad
stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these
poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver-joy
to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls
in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses’
rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with
gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely pet-
ticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station
solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,
who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in
dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and
picked themselves up out of basements hung
over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third
Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemploy-
ment offices,
who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on
the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the
East River to open to a room full of steamheat
and opium,
who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment
cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime
blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall
be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested
the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of
Bowery,
who wept at the romance of the streets with their
pushcarts full of onions and bad music,
who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the
bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in
their lofts,
who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned
with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded
by orange crates of theology,
who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty
incantations which in the yellow morning were
stanzas of gibberish,
who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht
& tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable
kingdom,
who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for
an egg,
who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot
for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks
fell on their heads every day for the next decade,
who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccess-
fully, gave up and were forced to open antique
stores where they thought they were growing
old and cried,
who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits
on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse
& the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments
of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the
fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinis-
ter intelligent editors, or were run down by the
drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,
who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually hap-
pened and walked away unknown and forgotten
into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alley
ways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,
who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of
the subway window, jumped in the filthy Pas-
saic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street,
danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed
phonograph records of nostalgic European
1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and
threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans
in their ears and the blast of colossal steam
whistles,
who barreled down the highways of the past journeying
to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude
watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out
if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had
a vision to find out Eternity,
who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who
came back to Denver & waited in vain, who
watched over Denver & brooded & loned in
Denver and finally went away to find out the
Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying
for each other’s salvation and light and breasts,
until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,
who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for
impossible criminals with golden heads and the
charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet
blues to Alcatraz,
who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky
Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys
or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or
Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the
daisychain or grave,
who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hyp
notism & were left with their insanity & their
hands & a hung jury,
who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism
and subsequently presented themselves on the
granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads
and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding in-
stantaneous lobotomy,
and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin
Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psycho-
therapy occupational therapy pingpong &
amnesia,
who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic
pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,
returning years later truly bald except for a wig of
blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible mad
man doom of the wards of the madtowns of the
East,
Pilgrim State’s Rockland’s and Greystone’s foetid
halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rock-
ing and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench
dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a night-
mare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the
moon,
with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book
flung out of the tenement window, and the last
door closed at 4. A.M. and the last telephone
slammed at the wall in reply and the last fur-
nished room emptied down to the last piece of
mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted
on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that
imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of
hallucination
ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and
now you’re really in the total animal soup of
time
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed
with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use
of the ellipse the catalog the meter & the vibrat-
ing plane,
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space
through images juxtaposed, and trapped the
archangel of the soul between 2 visual images
and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun
and dash of consciousness together jumping
with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna
Deus
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human
prose and stand before you speechless and intel-
ligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet con-
fessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm
of thought in his naked and endless head,
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown,
yet putting down here what might be left to say
in time come after death,
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in
the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the
suffering of America’s naked mind for love into
an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone
cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered
out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand
years.

II

What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open
their skulls and ate up their brains and imagi-
nation?
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unob
tainable dollars! Children screaming under the
stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men
weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the
loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy
judger of men!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the
crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of
sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment!
Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stun-
ned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose
blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers
are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a canni-
bal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking
tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows!
Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long
streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose fac-
tories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose
smokestacks and antennae crown the cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch
whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch
whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch
whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen!
Moloch whose name is the Mind!
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream
Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in
Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom
I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch
who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy!
Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch!
Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs!
skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic
industries! spectral nations! invincible mad
houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pave-
ments, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to
Heaven which exists and is everywhere about
us!
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies!
gone down the American river!
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole
boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions!
gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! De-
spairs! Ten years’ animal screams and suicides!
Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on
the rocks of Time!
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the
wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell!
They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving!
carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the
street!

III

Carl Solomon! I’m with you in Rockland
where you’re madder than I am
I’m with you in Rockland
where you must feel very strange
I’m with you in Rockland
where you imitate the shade of my mother
I’m with you in Rockland
where you’ve murdered your twelve secretaries
I’m with you in Rockland
where you laugh at this invisible humor
I’m with you in Rockland
where we are great writers on the same dreadful
typewriter
I’m with you in Rockland
where your condition has become serious and
is reported on the radio
I’m with you in Rockland
where the faculties of the skull no longer admit
the worms of the senses
I’m with you in Rockland
where you drink the tea of the breasts of the
spinsters of Utica
I’m with you in Rockland
where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the
harpies of the Bronx
I’m with you in Rockland
where you scream in a straightjacket that you’re
losing the game of the actual pingpong of the
abyss
I’m with you in Rockland
where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul
is innocent and immortal it should never die
ungodly in an armed madhouse
I’m with you in Rockland
where fifty more shocks will never return your
soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a
cross in the void
I’m with you in Rockland
where you accuse your doctors of insanity and
plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the
fascist national Golgotha
I’m with you in Rockland
where you will split the heavens of Long Island
and resurrect your living human Jesus from the
superhuman tomb
I’m with you in Rockland
where there are twenty-five-thousand mad com-
rades all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale
I’m with you in Rockland
where we hug and kiss the United States under
our bedsheets the United States that coughs all
night and won’t let us sleep
I’m with you in Rockland
where we wake up electrified out of the coma
by our own souls’ airplanes roaring over the
roof they’ve come to drop angelic bombs the
hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls col-
lapse O skinny legions run outside O starry
spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is
here O victory forget your underwear we’re
free
I’m with you in Rockland
in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-
journey on the highway across America in tears
to the door of my cottage in the Western night

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Who would fucking hire you? (AD)


A daycare center thats who! it seems that I have a 75 percent chance that I will be hired at a daycare center in town, I think Ms. M really likes me, and the kids there like me, and the parents.....well fuck them not many parents of small children like teenagers anyways because adults are protective of the little ones, it sounds like a Bode job and I can't wait to have it! I was going to make a post on my Atheism but I am really not in the mood to type that much, I just ate a Kashi bar and I am lying in my bed and I am too comfortable to explain and pontificate. but If you are a creationist feel free to bitch at about ot to me in the comments box because even annoymous lurkers can post here, and I love a free argument! uhg I am going to have to dye my hair all black again for the job, well fuck I just spent a month bleaching it! whaaaateveeeer I can blow with it. Later I will add more music to the player because It mainly keeps playing all the ska I let Peach add, nothing against ska but I am tired of hearing it and I want more punk and fun stuff on the player. MY BIRTHDAY IS SUNDAY! fucking A, also Me and my Sister (I will refer to her as EMX) are going to get matching sister tats that say CCXXII those are the roman numerals for 222, The reason we are getting CCXXII is because we are 2 years two months and 2 days apart in age, also I think I will start crafting more next month if I get my sewing machine needle fixed and start buying more shit to make jewlery, I really want to make bone jewlery but I don't eat meat so I don't know where to find bones, I will figure it out, Over and Out, May God B. Less

Monday, October 5, 2009

Friday, October 2, 2009

YOUR VAGINA IS NONE OF MY BUSINESS (AD)


(Don't fall in the lake Narcissus)
yeah I am soooo punk rocck but I still like to bitch about A-listers ( Henry Rollins inspires me, YouTube his "Letters to people" so funny, sigh) Meagan Fox is like Chinese food, shes hot and tasty but she makes you want to vomit (I like Chinese food, I can't digest grease though so an hour after eating it I vomit like Reagan from the exorcist)
I really don't give a shit how attractive people thin she is, Her face looks like its about to receive a sweaty mans load, her voice is strung and annoying, and from what I can tell she is just a total bitch, also I read that RollingStone interview, all she did was bitch and gave us too much info, its funny how she said something along the lines of, "I hate publicity and attention" and then has photos of her in lingerie and heels hamming it up, She obviously thrives on attention, she also said something along the lines of "girls were jealous of me, I got my period when I was 10 and started masturbating" and something like "men are afraid of powerful Vaginas, I wasn't born with a special Vagina" good for you you fucking CuntTart! way to shame your self for future eons to see.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Fuck Sweeny Todd, Turquoise is where its at (AD)



after trying to platinum the blonde, some stands started to get stretchy and melty, and plus the blonde didnt compliment my skin tone, so I slapped on the Turquoise with zeal

top 10 reasons why cold weather rocks (AD)


1uno) LAYERS, if you do not like layering your clothes you are a damn fool!, Ive got the multiple shirts and jackets with Docs rockin in the fall leaves and winter snow!, Me and Brew decidedly agreed on this one without debate. (I am not much of a stocking girl but I whole heartedly agree on the over usage of them in fall, I saw girls in leggings during the summer and I just thought they were trying too hard)

2dos)brighter darker makeup. Whats that? all the lipstick and bright shadows you were afraid to use during the summer are still on your shelf? well lucky you! Fall is the time of year you can wear a bland outfit and plaster on some red lipstick and plum shadow! (man I am a nerd) but it is true!

3tres) DRANKS, mmmm cocoa, black coffee, (peppermint shnapps) in fall you can drink cozy stuff and also drink stuff that makes you feel cozy (wink wink nudge nudge) its awesome to sit on a freezing deck wearing your layers and dark makeup while holding a huge mug of awesome.

4cuatro) All the bugs die!!! I have eczema and sensitive skin, bugs make it all worse with their crawling and biting and ECK, I was watching a DVD once and heard a digging sound, It was a bug BURROWING in my ear, AHHHHH. yeah in winter those things are busy dieing heh heh heh.

5cinco) Blankets, sounds lame but in summer it takes me forever to sleep because I am all sweaty and it feels like I am lying on a bed of hot coals, In winter you can put on some socks and snuggle into your cozy bed and tunnel into the blankets, plus you can save money on the electric bill by turning off the heat and snuggling into bed with your sweetheart.

6seis) HALLOWEEN, look if you hate candy, dressing up, making fake blood, being spooky, partying and all things fun then you must not like Halloween, I like it better than Christmas, because I dont have to be with my crazy alcoholic family instead I get to look like a Loon with my crazy alcoholic friends, and when a kid rings the bell, you stagger to the door to give them candy and the look on their face is precious, "and what are you for Halloween sweetheart?" "A power ranger" "YOU ARE FUCKIN RAD, DON'T EVER GROW UP!!!" siiiiigh the memories.

7siete) Pale is the new tan, In the summer all the girls slather on self tanner and hit the beach in hopes of getting melanoma as I hide out in the Arcade portion of the Boardwalk (actually I love to body surf and swim, But usually in the wee hours of the morning or before the sun goes down so I dont burn) In fall the Pale girls become royalty with their creme, porcelain, beige and dare I say ALABASTER complexions ( no offense to girls with naturally tan and dark skin but your season is summer babe)

8ocho)Local Shows, they rock in winter and fall, you can get all hot and mosh up a storm inside then step outside into the brisk air and it feels AMAZAZING!!!, not to mention all the interesting people standing outside for a smoke, i once had the Bassist from Jaguar Love (some band from New York) bum a cigarette from me as I stepped out of 9:30 Club ( the Faint were playing that night they were Rad)

9nueve) Bonfires! sure you have them in summer, but Burning shit in the cold seasons is much more fun and nostalsic, drinking hugging, acoustic music, camping, burning old text books, etc etc etc, In fact I am going to my friend Travis's 22nd B day party tomorrow night, its basically going to be what I just described, and theres Beer pong and he has a dog, (I am a sucker for animals, I hope the dog sleeps in my tent) (also dont get the impression that all I like to do is Binge drink, I can drink responsibly plus I do have a personality, so Its not like I drink to make an impression on any one)

10diez) Hair! you can dye your hair any color you want and have it last the whole season! why? because there is no hot sun, salt water, chlorine to make the color fade, on the reals, fall and winter are the best seasons to have red hair, since it is hard to maintain and last ( trust me copper heads, I have had red hair before and I feel you)

Well Tell me your favorite things about the cold seasons I am interested In hearing about it!