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the latest waddle:

good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03

elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01

building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19

ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09

my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04

2002-11-16 ... 12:29 p.m.


1. I've been feeling all ancient Roman lately. Eating farro, building arches, wearing a toga, taxing the shit out of my city-states.

2. Crack is classy.

3. Lipstick and I have a difficult relationship. Sometimes I am friends with lipstick all day and then suddenly at the end of the night I feel like lipstick just has to go, NOW, and I start compulsively rubbing at my lips like a long-term speed freak who feels the crawly bugs under her skin. Last night I am out at the bar, patiently waiting my turn, and a very drunk man in a leather jacket hands me an empty shot glass and slurs, "Why don't you get some lipstick on that." Then he leans in all conspiratorial drunk and says, "Or you could put lipstick somewhere else, know what I mean?" "No. I don't," I say, and give him Icy Blank Stare #36 (I have 42 Icy Blank Stares in total). Although I prefer to solve most of my problems with violence, I think that went pretty well. Besides, if I keep busting fingers punching people all the time, I will have arthritis in ten years, minimum. Score one for maturity.

4. Actual quotation from Sammy Sosa, who I believe is a baseball player right here in Chicago: "We have to do what we've got to do. I think that's the only way we can get something done."

5. Tonight I am going to a wedding. It is a friend wedding and not a family wedding, so that makes it a little better, but I have to admit I often find weddings tedious. It's nice to celebrate your Major Life Change with your loved ones, but it's also a little strange, as in "Come focus all your energy and attention on us for more or less an entire day!" At least this one should have good food, and should bring up some intriguing memories, since I think I have had a little makeout session with the bride during/after at least two other wedding receptions. Do weddings get everybody in Slut Mode? Some classic bacchanalian fertility rite vibe? Hmmm.

6. I log huge amounts of time at Implosion World and I'm not ashamed to say it. This stuff is like porn to me. Check out this implosion of the Wolverine Hotel, and while you are at it reflect on how cool the name "Wolverine Hotel" is. A complimentary wolverine in every room! (Rrrrraaaaaarrr!) Free wolverine breakfast buffet! (For that last one I picture not an actual wolverine but the guy from the X-Men with different muffins and danishes on each one of his titanium blade fingers.)

7. OH BOY! POI! Well, if you had dis stuff in your cupboard den, no need go supa-makit. (What the fuck?) Here's the 2001 poi statistics. There will be a quiz tomorrow. And for god's sake don't let that bitch handle your taro.

8. Believe it or not, I started to worry. I wondered if I had enough class. But it was Saturday night, and I guess that makes it all right. You said, "Baby. Do you have enough gas?" (Also, you got an ass like I've never seen.) Did you know that the afore-quoted Prince song references having a used condom in your pocket? For real. Prince baby, that be nasty. Come on now.

9. Kat and I went out on Thursday and we are calling it our Less Than Zero night. We stayed out too late (I swear to god the hours between 8 and midnight DO NOT EXIST at the Goldstar), we saw Robert Downey Jr. sucking dick for dollars to feed his coke habit, Jami Gertz was there being all skinny, Elvis Costello yelped about the couple who traded their baby for a Chevrolet, we both (me and Kat, not me and the baby-traders) felt a little rough the next day, and Kat had to go to a funeral and was dreading everything that entails, so I suggested she go all the way with the Less Than Zero thing and swallow some tranquilizers at the wake. Also, for a while we talked to some U of C law school student. I was wearing a shirt with a kind of strange distorted near-plaid pattern on it, and one of the first things this guy said to me was, "You look like an Art Deco lumberjack."

10. So I haven't posted for the last two days or so and that is partly because (a) of real life and shit like that, (b) the fact that I feel half like an angry sullen teenager stomping around yelling "no one UNDERSTANDS me," and half like a 1950s cliché housewife who starts drinking vodka as soon as the kids leave for school and spends the day either robotically cleaning or staring blankly at the wall and wondering how she came to be trapped in her beautiful cage (note: I am neither of these things, these are self-created emotions that describe an ill-defined tumultuous inner state), and (c) what was I talking about again? Why I haven't been posting Diaryland entries? Yes. (c), because I have developed a weird and unfortunate obsession with that Foreigner song about being hot blooded. I downloaded it from somewhere and on the day after the Less Than Zero night I was sitting in my bathrobe trying to gather up the energy necessary to go to work, and I played it a few times in a row, which I am sure LT did not appreciate. I think what interests me about the Foreigner song about being hot blooded (and having a fever of 103°F [Foreigner don't fuck with metric]), is what a TRULY AWFUL SONG it is. It's very impressive in that regard. It is classic corporate rock and even features a guitar solo that sounds like it was ordered out of a catalogue. "Hot Blooded" could be used in a composition class about how not to write a rock song. I think Foreigner is my very favorite awful band. Other Foreigner songs you might remember are the one about it feeling like the first time, the one about urgent urgent emergency, and the one about being cold as ice, and willing to sacrifice (nice internal rhyme there) our love. I keep trying to proselytize to people about the magic awfulness, or the awful magicness, of Foreigner, but what I mostly get in return is a lot of blank looks. And that's why I haven't updated in a while The End.

11. The first in-flight pierogi.

12. Best "missed connections" ad ever: Christmas Eve, years ago on the train. You: rabbit fur jacket, short pink shorts, thigh high boots. You'd wet our pants and your makeup was messed up, maybe a bruise? I've never stopped thinking about you.

Or hey, free dinner.

Yeah, six is about the limit for a circle jerk.

13. Hey computer man check out my dinosaur.

(You should also read this particular Jack Chick tract. It has no flow whatsoever. A guy walks in your room and says "Hey computer man check out my dinosaur" and you suddenly launch into an anti-evolution rant? I'd be like, "Whoa. Dude. Hey. Computer Man. All I wanted was for you to check out my dinosaur. I'll just be going now."

14. I used to be real squinky about people I knew reading this web thing, but I think I am over that, and based on site statistics and a few pointed comments I am starting to suspect that some people who know me read it on the sly. Go ahead and let me know, this is like a one-week amnesty period. Like that thing where you turn in your guns to the police and they give you...well, I guess they don't give you anything. You just turn in your guns. What's with that?

15. We wouldn't want to end on fourteen. Fifteen is way better than fourteen.

---mimi smartypants hovers a few feet off the ground.


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