Friend of the Week

Danny. his license got suspended a while ago and since then he has been renting cars pretty steadily from Enterprise.

just the fact that he would go to rent a car, whether it worked out or not, without a valid license makes me extremely happy.

but it worked. which makes me even happier. just when you feel the world is impenetrably connected, you can rent a car without a valid license.

sure, eventually he got caught after he banged up one car and used the other to harbor a criminal. but then he just went to a different branch and did the same thing again.



thanks brother, you restore my faith.

-dr. honey

tittybuzz

i would live in a tree, inside its trunk.
i saw a squirrel jump into a trashcan and leap out, scrambling, with one french fry. i also have a photo of a squirrel eating a slice of pizza on a high branch, but its a couple of years old so it doesn't really prove anything.

most of all, i saw a woman wearing a low-cut tank-top with her cell phone sticking out. it was snuggled between her breasts.

this was the park today.

Dear Cooper

i wrote this email to cooper, i have forgotten what the hell i was talking about. i think it was a cry for help.
i wouldn't lick the times with the bottom of my shoe. you call that journalism?
i could make better copy in my work dreams.
wow. so um social darwinism. it's nice to see that rear its mug.
my dog had diabetes!! you bastard. oh, muffy. cooper thinks you died because you were weak.
muffy's crying in hell now cooper!
(she wasn't a very goood dog).

corn you eat is sweet corn, the kind they use for feed is #2.
like shit.get it?
got it?

coops, fishies are full of mercury and chickens are full of crap. they're liars. every last one of them.

i mean, my first food was steak.
it's hard for me.

nuts? i phtew on nuts.
double hyuck!

cooper, i eat cats.

with the spirit of aloha,
a.

to the one. and onlys.

i wanna do the drug. the one that forges connections between things in your mind that are unrelated ...and makes them relate. relates kitties and campbell's soup, matzoh balls and bird wings. i feel like then i might understand you better. i could do the drug and you could not do the drug and then we could talk to each other out of context. where you seem to exist every moment of your life.

-dr. honey

?

why can't mcdonalds deliver? what, is grimace too busy these days? i need like 3 hashbrowns.

d

gay

is there anything gayer than a pink polo shirt wit the collar popped? i guess if that pink polo shirt wit the collar popped could grow a moustache; that would be gayer.
D

Kevin is. Kevin lives.

kevin's birthday is july 3rd, which is todayish.

kevin, you're a darn fine fellow. so "eat some steak, have some chicken, but don't write that book". he's pretty much my favorite person on the planet. like i love kevin even more than randy newman.

tonight we're going to a meat restaurant at kevin's request. for his special birthday, kevin is giving himself the gift of alienating all of his vegetarian friends.


oh, kevin, i love you madly, i would never skin you and wear you, happy birthday bunny!
/>

update: i fried bacon all morning so kevin would have good dreams and wake up happy, folded his undies and put a long stem rose on them. and got him some blue flowers (because he's a boy, duh). and some daisies, because they're slutty.
tonight's gonna be insane.

i prefer jimmy page anyway

last night i was watching that led zeppelin concert (and beyond) movie "the song remains the same" on tv. i was pretty into it for several reasons, one being because i've never really seen extended concert footage of them before and, you know, they're pretty good. two being that the "and beyond" part of the movie is fucking hilarious- if you haven't seen it, it's them acting out dramatizations of some of their songs, and you know their songs are always about norse gods and the lord of the rings and knights and castles and shit- it's pretty high quality, lots of costumes and horses and candles and meadows and ships and maidens, even some slow motion bats in flight. and the third being that "this is spinal tap" was always funny, but now i see how fucking spot on it is. wow. i mean, i'm no stranger to the 70's "rock legend" concert films and all of the pompousness that they entail. i've seen pink floyd live at pompeii about a zillion times (david gilmour was such a fox) but parts of this led zep jawn seemed to have been parlayed into the hilarity that is spinal tap without any alteration at all. although, i don't know, maybe there was a lot of direct copying in that movie and i just don't know enough about the aging rock band concert film genre to get all the direct references, i mean ST's drummer is clearly nick mason. nyah. well, anyway. i'm watching this movie and i'm watching robert plant acting like some rock and roll sex god, all swagger and golden mane and bare chest and sweat and tight jeans and prominent cock bulge and moaning and you know, how he is. and the camera keeps cutting to these babes in the audience who are understandably eyeing him up like he was a bucket of crisp, tender fried chicken and they hadn't eaten in years. from a distance with that curly hair covering his face and a microphone covering his mouth and that stage persona, fuck yeah, it's an easy point of view. however, later in the film there is some footage of him backstage just shooting the shit with roadies or whatever and little robbie is talking and HOLY SHIT! his teeth are putrid. seriously, run a google image search on him, dude's mouth is always closed and rightly so. those things are jacked the fuck up. like, not even just crooked- which they are. and not even just missing a few- which he is. but also this thick brownish greenish yellowish color and presumably a sort of soft and gritty texture. just gnarly. i could immediately see flies buzzing around his mouth as he spoke. now, i'm not 100% sure the flies were actually there, but they were. this made me start to wonder about those women in the audience. you know that most of them were scratch-out-their-own eyeballs-dying to get back stage to go fuck the shit out of him, and you know that some of them actually got the opportunity to do so. and yeah, his face was never really all that, and i'm sure many of these ladies knew this going into things. whatever, less-than-handsome men often have better and more appealing attributes, a so-so face is not necessarily a big sex deterrent. however, i bet that every once in a while he would get some little eager beaver babe back there for a post-show fucking and she'd get up close to him without that mic in the way and he'd open his mouth to say something to her (probably something cocky and obnoxious) and she'd see those nasty shitpearl teeth of his and her starry eyes would bug the fuck out and she'd just take a quick step backward with a horrified look on her face- the look of all her youthful fantasies crumbling before her- and she'd slowly shake her head 'no' as she backed out of the room and then once she hit the exit she'd start sobbing and run like hell, the way the chick at the end of the original 'texas chainsaw massacre' did. yeah. and that's exactly how bitches get into smooth jazz.

-creammunication breakdown

homemade mannequins

how long do you think it took them to find the ideal-customer mannequin(s) for these particular sunglasses? midtwenties ducky dyke and aging peruvian clubber turned poet? is that right? is that who thinks sunglasses with coccoons on the side are funky? i think these are home projects, the heads. like, the first one got a haircut and the second, some shading on the chin and pearlescent paint on the lips.

Kevin's Birthday is July 3rd

kevin's birthday is coming up.
i want to surprise him. last year, i got him a present on my birthday, because it's really the more important of the two. i mean seriously. everyone's birthday is in june/july.
but this birthday i want to surprise him like this:


wow him definitely. but more sinisterly than he's ever been wowed before. get primitive. so for kevin's birthday, i'm going to take him to the dark side of love. by fashioning a set of undies out of this:



at first i thought, let's be cute and funny about it, and use this pelt:


but this is an important birthday, and i no longer believe cute is my destiny (thanks, michelle, for wizing me up). maybe at some point i'll use two of those suckers to make a bra fit for a nordic queen, but not out of love, no, not out of love.

and this july, love is on the menu. it's time kevin and i take our relationship to the next level. and nothing says i love you scarily like your girlfriend flying to the rain forest of columbia, trapping and skinning an animal, fashioning lingerie from the hide, flowers and chocolates. sometimes you just want to stick your dick in something nondescript, but not on your birthday. i think you know what i mean by that.
i think i can figure out how to accomplish it too. customs is going to be a bitch, but, hell i have the know-how and make-do, some time on my hands, an internet connection, a will to win, some hunting skill, a wicked set of leather and embroidery needles, and that's just how much i love my baby.
i know what boys like i know what boys want.

p.s. you slackers, post some crap. i miss my ladies.

-dr. honey

the wonderful thing about hipsters

the wonderful thing about hipsters
is hipsters are wonderful things.
they look like one another yet
their style is made out of springs,
they're bouncy trouncy flouncy pouncy
fun fun fun fun fun!
but the most wonderful thing about hipsters
is i'm the only one,
yes i'm
the only one.

Ev'ryone el-us is jealous
That's why I repeat

We're jumpy, bumpy, clumpy, thumpy
Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!
but the most wonderful thing about wonder-cluster scarf dancers is
we're the only ones.

yes we're the only ones!

--lyrical adaptation of 'the wonderful thing about tiggers', dedicated to all my bitches, rub your titties if you love big pooh bear.
or "the politics of exclusion: love and radical plagiarism in low-income households" by Dr. Honey Pedestrian, Phd

happy birthday nisey and creamer

additional disclaimer: we're not the only ones. if you were offended by reading this, you're probably included in the scarf dancer's union.

happy birthday sara

a street washer near LOVE park once told sara and i that we couldn't rollerskate our way through life. we were rollerskating at the time. then, some 17 year old kids offered us wet and told us they could go buy us some beers. they must of thought we were 16. hanging out with sara always makes me feel like i'm the most grownup 16 year old there is. i love you, bitch.

happy birthday stunderpants

STUNNER! i miss groping you. i was sitting here trying to think of some great story about some time we did something fun or funny or wild but looking back i mostly get a montage of me drunkenly pawing you. yes, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and a little funny, you know, down there. like the first time we met in that hotel room and we were just screaming each other's name and humping each other on that bed with 18 other people sitting on it acting all disturbed because we were spilling their sparks or whatever. that party was boring, but you made it great. that seems to happen a lot. this is hard to write because you're pretty much my favorite person who i never actually hang out with, so on the rare occasion that i see you i'm always too busy being excited to see you and there's never time to make any crazy memories (and sitting here reminiscing about salt is pretty much gay as shit), so ok. i'm just going to say happy birthday and i love you and i miss you and just because i live out here doesn't mean you have to stop sending me random text messages and i expect everyone else to take it from here.

Happy Birthday Kristie!!!!!

My bitch for life. There's too much to say man, I've known Kristie for 14 years now. I could tell you about the time i taught her to drive when i was 16 and she was 15 and i told her to put the turn signal on and she was all "how do i do that" i said "pull" so she pulls the entire turn signal out of the socket and is holding it in her hand and we just both bust out laughing yet im like uh uh fuck what do i do ahhhhh and she gets the oh no i peed on the carpet type look hahahahaha.Then there was the first time we ever talked, i called the superintendent of the school district at his house and pretended i was a teacher and asked about school closings and i found them out before everyone and called Kristie's house to tell Jen we didn't have school and me and Kristie got to talking and were on the phone for hours "hee hee im a cancer too omg our bdays are a day apart!!!" Once we went to go visit my friend Josh (rip xo) and i think it must have been the first time kristie met him and she was showing his big fluffy dog some love and she was like "YOU LOOK LIKE A LITTLE MAN!!" and he goes "RUFF" and bites her face and i start laughing bc you had to see how stupid looking this big fluffy ass dog was and kristie's little sad face after it happened "dennnnnnnnnnnnnise :(". Then when we left there we pulled over to the side of the road and we were looking for something in my car and kristie began to clean my car out on someones lawn, she's tossing batteries and lunch and all kinds of shit and the lady comes outside freaking out and we take off. I taught Kristie the removing ink tag secret and once she learned man she was the ink tag pro she had her little tool kit. hahahaha. i still prefer the removal of alarms over inktags, it's the rubberband involved that i love. We lost touch for a short amount of time while she lived in ny with aeaj and i was in the oc with weaj but the intensity and quality of our friendship has never changed. its dope as shit, so much history,amazing times, and an amzing sisterhood love that you couldn't ever take from us. city gardens baby!!! 108 forever, right kristie?! i love you baby, happy birthday!!!! xoxo love, denise

you bet your ass i want to smell like Prince

i am so excited for purple to reign! what do you think Prince smells like anyway? i think maybe violets, vanilla, sandalwood, PURE SEX, mimosa flowers, and damp moss...
seriously though, i am buying this even if it smells like shit (which it probably does)

-This is it
It's time for u to go to the wire
U will hit
Cuz u got the burnin' desire
It's your time (Time)
U got the horn so why don't u blow it
U are fine (Fine)
U're filthy cute and baby u know it

Cream Get on top
Cream U will cop
Cream Don't u stop
Cream Sh-boogie bop

U're so good
Baby there ain't nobody better (Ain't nobody better)
So u should
Never, ever go by the letter (Never ever)
U're so cool (Cool)
Everything u do is success
Make the rules (Rules)
Then break them all cuz u are the best
Yes u are

Cream Get on top
Cream U will cop
Cream Don't u stop
Cream Sh-boogie bop

Look up in the air, it's your guitar
Do your dance
Why should u wait any longer?
Take a chance
It could only make u stronger
It's your time (It's your time)
U got the horn so why don't u blow it (Go on and blow it)
U're so fine (U're so fine)
U're filthy cute and baby u know it (U know it)

Come on Cream Get on top
Cream U will cop
Cream Don't u ever stop
Cream Sh-boogie bop
Cream
Cream
Cream Sh-boogie bop
Cream
Cream Right there
Cream Don't u stop
Cream Sh-boogie bop

Boogie

The Perils of Having a Voluptuous Mop

i have always liked the idea of having long hair (and a set of weepers that could puncture your left ventricle, and gams from here to ya-ya). but never having any patience at all, i've had mostly babyhawks, messy boy hair, bobs, pixie head, and so forth. now the hour is upon me, the time of reckoning, and though i think i've become pretty damn zen in my old-er age, i have a lot of reasons to doubt. first of all, i never used to wash my mop. never. unless there was a cake fight or something. i dyed it. and it got rinsed. and that was about it. but NOW, my gosh, like a chaste girl from the fifties, i'm always washing my hair. because i have to. and those who know me well know i don't like having to do stuff. and when i do wash it, i find the strands that no longer feel like being a part of me have taken their exodus, due to bodily physics and gravity, into my asscrack. damn you, newton! hands to sky, physics, when are you gonna stop screwing me. for those who don't know, pulling a wad of hair out of your asscrack is like living your own personal horror movie. alienation from my body part 4.
plus i'm rivaling my cat in household shedding.
i keep running to the bathroom mirror with my wicked glinting shears raised over my head, a maniacal look in my eyes, and an evil grin on my face....but right before my most sinister laugh begins to curdle from deep within as i plunge into the cut, something stops me dead. i look at that hair. and i know i just can't kill what has taken me so long to grow. and yes, perhaps it's silly to be proud of something one does naturally, like grow hair, but if you take that away from me, i have nothing left to be proud of. and i think it knows. it's so close to my brain, how can it not?
a tumble weed rolls by. i grab my six-shooter, point it towards my hair and...
stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of Bobby Pins in the Dust when we return next week.
-dr. h
p.s. here is some art my hair made in the shower. i call it "The Cosmic Drama".

DMX video of the week

Girl-Watching in the Tenderloin

Girl-watching in the TL takes a lot of stamina. it's like punching yourself in the face over and over and over again. and yet everyday i see some guys curbing it up on Polk Street, hunting. it makes the dude that goes around our block trying to sell nudie photos make real sense, despite the copyright infringement he is no doubt perpetrating. actually, now i'm not so sure. next time he offers i'm gonna take a good long hard look at those photos before i say no. maybe they're all of the same girl, maybe his girlfriend, or maybe he's a crazy voyeur and they're all originals. Or maybe they're just magazine photocopies with a white border. god's in the details, as they say. i'll find out for you.
not to mention that girl-watching in the TL can cause confusion and debate. Half the girls on polk street are not really girls, well i mean they're XY even if they happen to be XXX. so not only does it require stamina, but also probably analysis, even synthesis, before one can make the statement, "damn, girl!". unless it's all the same to them, and even in that case i think they deserve a sort of congratulatory awe and/or reverence for not feeling the need to distinguish transvestite from non-transvestite piece of questionable ass passing through their space-time. they're like heroes. heroes i don't want to particularly be near or talk to. ever.
i'm just saying. it's a skill. a skill that can't really be applied to anything else. but a skill, regardless.

-dr. honey
crappy neighborhood analyst

dear mad dog 20/20

sign me up

endorsement pt. 2

AMERICAN CREAM

dear cream,
we here at mad dog 20/20 have viewed your recent request for any wine and feel you are our ideal sponsor. please consider endorsing us in the future.
love,
mad dog liquor

i am endorsement quality: i want some free stuff

every morning i wake up and have a CLIFF BAR and a cup of coffee for breakfast. most of the varieties of CLIFF BARS are pretty good except for the carrot cake one, that one's nasty (do not send). after my champion breakfast i brush my teeth using AQUAFRESH EXTREME CLEAN WHITENING MINT EXPERIENCE and i wash my face with CLINIQUE RINSE OFF FOAMING CLEANSER MOUSSE although my skin isn't where i want it to be these days so i might switch to KEIHL'S GENTLE FOAMING FACIAL CLEANSER or something. i don't know, i'm open to other options if people want to send me stuff and i'll try it out and talk about it later. so then i put on some DOVE PROTECTIVE MOISTURIZING LOTION (with spf 15 please) and a little LANCOM DEFENCILS MASCARA, MAYBELLINE ULTRA BROW BRUSH ON COLOR, and any kind of EYEBROW GEL and that's about it. i like to wear ANNICK GOUTAL EAU DU CIEL these days. i have some odd obsession with ANNICK GOUTAL perfumes even though a lot of them are kind of 'meh', i don't know, i just like some of them. so, i wear LEVIS JEANS almost exclusively (size 0 or 1 please- i like 518s but i'm also into some of those premium jawns). anything else i wear is usually some stupid thrift store find (i'm not going to sit here and rattle off clothing designers, but if you send me something and i like it i will definitely wear the shit out of it) or whatever except my CLARK WALLABEES which are the most comfortable shoes i've ever worn in my life (size 5- the Chestnut colored ones area nice- i prefer the Oxford style). for lunch i often eat a GARDENBURGER PORTABELLA VEGGIE BURGER with some FIJI WATER and maybe a NEWMAN O or two. then it's off to do whatever all day until after 6, at which time i'll enjoy a MAKER'S MARK BOURBON with CANADA DRY GINGER ALE, or maybe a HERRADURA TEQUILA with GEROLSTEINER MINERAL WATER (or actually soda, but i really like that mineral water so fuck it), or else maybe a glass of wine (ANY WINE). i probably drink too much, but i can't help it, i'm shy and people seem to like me more when i'm acting like a jackass, so... it's a necessary thing. usually having a few drinks makes me want to light up a few CAMEL LIGHTS. the two just go hand in hand, you know? so then i'll head home and hop in the shower before bed. i like to use COTE BASTIDE VANILLA TEA CLEANSING GEL because it smells kind of warm and sleepy and it makes my skin soft. when i wash my hair i reach for the JOHNSON'S BABY SHAMPOO WITH NATURAL LAVENDER and finish up with PANTENE PRO-V ICE SHINE CONDITIONER. then i'll throw a little DOVE CURL AND SCULPT DEFINING MOUSSE and then go to bed on my TEMPUR-PEDIC MATTRESS.

the end (please contact my assistant to confirm my shipping address. thanks.)

-american cream team

Happy Birthday Handsome!

so keith handsome is one of the best people in the world. period. and it's his birthday today, apparently. i learned this when i tried to send him a joke text message 'happy birthday' because, you see, it's the other keith's birthday today. the plot thickened when he wrote back 'tanks lady'.

the story i have to tell concerns not the first time i met handsome, which was probably hilarious but i don't really remember it, so instead i will blog about the first time i met Steakhouse, keith's drunken alter ego.


we were in a cab, going home after a rowdy evening that was getting out of hand, and handsome, sorry, steakhouse, rolls his window down. well of course i think he's gonna puke but instead he yells at some sweet old lady, "I wouldn't fuck you if my dick was on fire!".

oh, handsome. happy birthday beautiful!
-dr. honey

tattooooooo

i am seriously blanking on what to get. i wanted a terracotta roof on my back and shoulder but tim aster laughed at me and told me i was retarded. i might get the one ass cheek 'kev' one cheek 'in' tattoo i've been considering for two years. my mull is long and deliberate. cream suggested i let him sign them and then just tattoo over kev's writing. but i don't know if i'm ready. suggestions? (little missiles) emily's face? fried chicken? a third eye over my crotch?
-dr. honey-o

The authors/bitches of this blog..

all smoke a lot of weed. That is why this works so hot and hard.

missing: CREAM

Last seen walking hand in hand (June 11, 2007) with Eric Bader thru Portland on their way to the Drag Strip Riot reunion show.If you have any information regarding this bitch and her sweet tits please contact us at: iamartblahg@gmail.com

Jabberwocky

Ahh... the popping of my tender, virgin iamartblahg cherry.

...So I was thinking this morning that the pretentious professors and stuffy scholars who transcribed Through the Looking Glass had it all wrong. Carroll wasn't talking about monsters, not in the mythological sense anyway.

I think every one of us has met a Jabberwock. These are real, flesh and bone people. I don't know about you but I've shunned many a jub jub bird in my day and I've made damn sure that the bandersnatches in my community knew damn well not to get frumious with me. I'm not sure about the mome raths but I think he was talking about about crackhead.

In further news....
I wish I could say this was me as a child. This little beasty rocks my cotton socks and that's a lot of possum stew.



Ok. That's enough. Pull out! It hurts!

~Kimmortal

Happy Birthday Keith!!!!!

It's 15/F's Birthday!!! Smooth ass motherfucker. I puked all over his car, he doesn't care and forgets that i ever did it..he thinks it was Marie. Last year on my birthday we sat and drank wine in the park. Keith has one glass and was like yo stunner did you put pcp in my wine, im so fucked up!!!! Wasn't Keith the one to pay our bill that we skipped out on with a huge crew years ago? yeah he was. i just found that out the other day. Also this guy is the best person to crank call when you're hallucinating. I love Keith because he's that dude who's so mellow but so ridiculously awesome.

End of the night at a party:

(Keith looking real bent)

keith: hey stunner!!!

me: yo keith do u need a ride home man im taking jp home anyway.

keith: i have my car outside, hey do you know who i came here with?

me: um no, this is the first im seeing you all night but come with us we'll help you.

keith: ok

so we walk outside to wear marie is laying on the ground making these loud "AYE YAYE YAYE YAYE" noises so we get her a ride home and me and jp aredriving Keith around to find his car.

Keith: i def parked on cobblestones. Are you sure you don't rememeber who i came here with?!?!

Me: No but Keith this is the only cobblestones around and I don't see your car

(so we drive around for about 15 minutes)

Keith: Curve i came with Curve!!!

Me: How about i just take you home and you'll find your car in the morning you shouldnt drive. so i drop keith off and hear from him after that his car was parked outside of his house, he never drove anywhere. hahahahha keith i love you happy birthday!!!!!

xo stunner.

aka: denise huxtable (deluxe burger)

yet another nother reason to love dicks

trees have them. and trees are awesome.
although...
trees have more vaginal qualities than phallic....i mean well redwoods anyway. still i loved this gnarled tree spirit dick for its novelty of form, so much so that i shouted at kevin, "yo! get a picture of me jerking off this treeeeee!" right in front of all the summer tourists at muir woods (where the ewoks were filmed). i didn't even care about their stunned faces because i was gonna get me some drus cock.
i'm making myself sick, goodnight.
-dr. honey,
more than a tree hugger

my sister, the jew lover: part 1 hell and gone from cartagena

my sister, loren, the one for which i have a shoulder tattoo, is someone i could talk about for hours. she's done so many ridiculously wonderful things, she's told so many bad jokes, she's been out there achieving and believing for so long, she's really like an old friend. the oldest friend. the oldest friend that i know the strangest dirt on.
right now, she's in guatemala. she...went there to learn spanish but i'm not sure she's actually taking any classes on that. i'm pretty sure she'll come home with a sweet guatemalan accent at least. which can only make her more endearing, obviously.

here's what she had to say:

yes a bus ride in the rain through guate city and the only seat available was just behind the busted open back door

so it was very exhilarating and damp

then it went from sprinkling to pouring

and i actually thought about romancing the stone

then line that michael douglas gives kathleen turner right after they meet up and thunder rumbles

something like, '...and everything i own is gonna be wet in about 5 minutes, lady'

shit, everything I owned was gonna be too.

so i rummaged through my backpack a little precariously, trying not to fall out the door in the process, so grateful i'd packed the garbage bag near the top, and yanked it out. i pulled it over my bag and poked holes through so i could use the straps.

(mind you, i was the only gringa on this cheap bus and i had to rely on the family sitting behind me to mime when i'd reached my stop. they were lovely- two little girls, the older of whom was reciting her homework to her mother. all of them tried their best to help me).

when they signaled, i forced my way off the bus to treck about 5 blocks to where i thought the antigua bus stop was, but ended up one block short (cursed lonely planet maps!) and eventually relinquished my search because i was drenched (save for the upper area my raincoat shell covered- at least my sneaks got a good washing) and everyone looked at me like i was hell and gone from the antigua bus when i asked in broken spanish and mime. so i took a taxi for about a 5 minute ride, and i'm almost certain the driver told me to just walk one block further before he took me in, but he was sweet and dutifully brought me to the terminal. i'm told i was charged a reasonable rate for the duration of the ride, however unnecessary it may have been.

antigua feels like paris, lined completely with cobblestone.

i slept like a rock last night (for nine hours) in an adorable room with its own 'bathroom', that epitomizes the idea of a water closet. there's hot and cold water, but not simultaneously, which necessitates that my showering be skillful and inevitably end intensely. all for about $8 per night. i took a lot of pictures of my room because i was too shy to whip out my camera outside. yet.

i will climb a volcano tomorrow at 6 am. yikes.


romancing the stone is a great movie. we were iming for a bit or gchatting i guess is more accurate and i was all como estas ren? and she was all 'please no more spanish' and i was all 'TOTAL IMMERSION BITCH'.

before she left she'd joined an online dating service called J-Date. for jewish people. she doesn't do myspace or blog because she's kind of awesome like that, like has a real life and stuff, but she signed up for jdate. the thing is...we're not jewish. not technically. 1/2 on the wrong side of the mitochondrial heritage. we're jewey, at best.

she showed us a picture of a guy she might date. he really really looked like a serial killer. but my sister is a smart little cookie and was convinced that he just had bad teeth and didn't want to smile. but i mean still.

she was really nervous about her first j-date and i was like, "seriously? really? because you're a really cute girl and you're smart....has anyone you were interested in ever, i mean ever, not wanted to date you?" and she goes "hmmm. no, now that you mention it".

so anyway, knowing she was going to guatemala, she cancelled her jdate subscription.
the conversation went something like this:
d: hello!!!! this is david!!!!! here at j-date!!!!! how are you today!!!!
loren: hello. i need to cancel my subscription.
d: how terrible!!!! why??????!
loren: well. i'm leaving the country.
d: can i ask where you are going?
loren: guatemala.
d: we have j-date in guatemala!!!!!! problem solved!!!!!!!
loren: no.

one of the things i want

not for my birthday or anything, well maybe, but i want to hear a country song about odin. or ascending to valhalla.
the other day we went to a show and the opening...uh guy ...was playing a guitar and jerking up his mouth over to the left and he covered "oh death" and then he sang a song he wrote about jesus. he wrote a song about jesus. great. awesome. and i was like you little jerk you don't believe in jesus, just because there are a lot of country songs about going to heaven doesn't mean i can believe your pearl jammin ass when you write one.

just be honest or funny or interesting...that's really all i want. choose one or i'll choose for you. and i will always choose Einheriar.

so now i want to hear a country song about valhalla and i won't be able to be happy until i do. i want to hear one about you dying and coming face to face with this:

with a southern twang.
-dr. honey and her orchestra

votes

okay. can we please please please be The Jayson Musson Cover Blog!?! i love me. and you too.
or maybe the Jayson Scott Musson Cover Blog...
instant hit, ladies. let's steal some thunder.
jayson musson can be found here
http://www.philadelphiaweekly.com/articles/14791
and here: http://jaysonmusson.com/fuckyourblogson.html
and here:

why i believe in the english language

sometimes it's almost like the english language was made up by johnny cash, like 'jail' and 'bail' rhyme. jail and bail! coincidence? let's put our heads together and think of more words that rhyme because they're SUPPOSED to be in songs together.
i have to be more calculating with the slang i come up with, like boyonnaise hardly rhymes with anything.

hardly rhymes with anything.
-dr.honey

things i tell me

i was talking about stokley carmichael which, in a very rhythmic, rhymey way, took me to tookie williams. i always felt that tookie didn't deserve to be executed and today i put some reason to it. gang violence is like vernacular war. in cases of war soldiers are not considered murderers or held accountable for their kills, even if they kill a civilian. gangs are at war with other gangs. so, gangs, you should call your war, outloud, to an audience. have newspapers announce it. or, make states take sides, or cities or whole countries or groups of countries, coalitions and have them fight on your gangs behalf.

that, or the government should play mercenary. capturing and giving p.o.w.s to the opposing colours.

things people tell me

i was walking up classon, towards myrtle, today, when one of those motorized bicycle scooters passed me by. then, another one. but, they weren't together. they were followed by a guy on a bmx who turned to me, as he was cruising by, and said, "and i still gotta pedal!"

on sunday my friend melanie brought a funny book to the park for us to read: why men love bitches. then, tonight, my exboyfriend called me, just wanting to talk so we could be friends. he said, "you are the sweetest girl i've ever dated." it was the worst thing anyone's ever told me.

our new medium

let's hang, witch.

what the crap.

dear denise,
what the crap. the sopranos blackout?
straight stupid.
love,
allison

rockrockrockrock rockaway beeeeaccccchhhh

i rode my bike to the beach today. i'm not so sure about the waves part. one slapped my ass. a wave was coming, i ran from it, it passed, so i slowed my step and then came a smaller, sexier wave with a wet smack, SMACK, flat on my ass. that was cute. but, aside from that, waves are scary. not as scary, however, as a guy swimming in the ocean really far out. what was he doing out there? at first i was scared for him, then i was scared of him. like, how was he doing it? maybe i was just skiddish because i was hanging out on the beach in my underwear. i rode to the beach today to read. yeah, well, it was hot down there and there was me without a swimsuit (but two books!). so, i just took off my pants and my teeshirt and hung out, doubly. i liked it. there was a girl there though, that was not into me. the couple to my left giggled i think, and the old lesbian couple didn't pay me any mind, but this young girl who also rode her bike to the beach to.... do yoga at the ocean, like, in the ocean's face, kept walking by me all upset. she couldn't stop looking. i would have guessed that she was christian, but, christians don't do yoga.

on flatbush avenue there is a wig shop called, "buy buy hair." that's cool, too.

signed,
socs

The Solitary O: As Satisfying As Putting Out Your Cigarette in Deviled Eggs

in answer to your recent query, the cursing, of that sort, on the internet? no probably not. but hauntings happen every day. let's have our own online ghost town. in the form of collaborative blog.


shhh. the wind.
-dr. honey homunculous and her orchestra

sexy right numbers

so i own this lingerie shop. our whole thing is that the store isn't all hot pink and marabou and we don't sell dildos and lube and shit. it's supposed to be a "classy" place to pick up some fancy panties or whatever. there are other places here that do that leather/fetish shit, we do not want or need to fill in the niche. anyway, one of the ads we run in one of those free weekly papers features a girl wearing this romper thing and she's got a little bit of side-boob showing. the side-boob is pretty hot, but in a nice tasteful way... or so i thought. apparently it's more of an invitation to masturbation. since we've opened we get, about once a week, phone calls from random men. sometimes they'll be pretty to-the-point. i'll answer the phone and they'll pause for a minute and then ask "h-hhh-hhhhhhhey... d-d-do you mmmmmind talking to me while i i i jerkoff?" and i'll chuckle and politely say "yeah, sorry. i mind" then sometimes they'll try to be a little more tricky and say "hello. i was wondering if you sold any [pause] g-g-g-girrrrrrdles?" (yeah, they almost always stutter) "uh, no. we don't. sorry" "what about st-st-stockings?" "haha-uh. well we have some knee highs" "can you descriiiiibe them to me?" "let's see. some of them are blue, and some of them are grey and we have other colors too. they're nylon socks.. what else can i say?" "CAN YOU PLEASE HELP ME?!? MY GIRLFRIEND IS [sob] FORCING ME TO WEAR GIRDLES AND STOCKINGS. GIRDLES AND STOCKINGS!!!" "that sucks dude." my favorite one, however, kept me on the phone for about 10 minutes sounding totally normal and kind of timid. he said was trying to find something for his new girlfriend and he was unsure of what would be appropriate to buy her etc etc and i was honestly trying to help him and then he goes "s-so, oh... how do i say this... this is rather odd. um. see. i want to buy this gift because i really want my lady friend to give me... ANAL. what would it take for YOU to give me ANAL? how about an ANAL VIDEO? do you LIKE THAT? do you want to see some ASS FUCKING? DO YOU?!" "well, actually, i think seeing someone else's stretched out gaping asshole would make me less inclined. good luck with that though"

oh man. it makes me laugh every time. my partner freaks the fuck out when it happens to her, but i kind of love it. it's entertaining as shit and it makes the day just a little more colorful.

men are so funny. i love men. hey guys, never change... but don't actually come INTO the store, that's not so funny. seriously, i know kung fu. that's right bitch, i know 7 ways to kill you with my bare hands, so DON'T FUCK WITH ME.

-girl 6

DMX video of the week

classic.
enjoy your week
-stunner

return of another reason to love dicks (and possibly big noses)

when you break up with a guy, girls telling you to forget about it doesn't work. a guy giving you a list of all his friends and what he considers their attractive sexual attributes, telling you this is your new list of candidates to fuck, this works. and is funny.

"yo, seriously, my friend pete. he is puerto-rican italian and has a big dick and a big noooooooose."

the year i became a smoker

i was unpacking my stuff today. i moved all my stuff, everything i own, to philadelphia two weeks ago. i called up my exboyfriend of three days and said, i have to move, today, to philly. can you come and get me and my stuff? and, after a thoughtful coffeetimebreak, he called me and said, "i'm on my way." and then, a week later i said, i have to go back to new york and we spent three days trying to move my stuff, sadly, back to my brooklyn apartment. we just couldn't do it, i guess. we had the van packed on the very first day. i've been very reluctant to unpack because it means this stuff is here to stay, at least for the next week.

well, when unpacking some of the boxes, i found an old journal. real old! from when i was sixteen! i didn't like the stuff i was reading. i refused to acknowledge it as something written by me, at any point in my life so i threw it out. dumped that shit. then, i realized that it would end up in someone's hands like all the journals and notes and diary entries that i've poured over and possessed after finding them in otherpeoples trash. so, i decided to burn it. i tried to burn it in my sink but it was taking awhile. lots of relighting and waiting and relighting. so, i lit it up really good and just let it go. like, left it in the sink and went and got dressed, checked my email, danced around to some blondie. when i checked back, the kitchen had filled with really toxic smoke, and the bathroom, too. i put it out but it was barely burnt. everything was still readable and the air in my house was burning my eyes out. so, i soaked it, to put it out and then threw it out. now, its soggy but still very readable. fuck. it took forever to get the apartment aired out. i was out all day and upon returning could still smell some of my sixteen year old memories hanging about, heady.

i also quit smoking. i started smoking in paris so i wouldn't look conspicuous walking along the river alone at night. no one bothers a smoker. well, i switched to rollies (from faggy vogues, which were cute in rome and sometimes in prague but maybe nowhere else?) because i thought that the labor intensiveness of them would make me smoke less. i ended up liking rolling, crafting my own little cigarettes. now i'm fucked. can you curse on a blog? can you speak about a curse on a blog? allison did. i think that the internet is no place for spells or magic. not the kind we know about. not old magic.

i'm quitting tomorrow. for life.


also, today, at the thrift store, a guy was sitting in an office chair, watching the nutty professor on a tv that was for sale, lifting weights that were also for sale. maybe the chair was his own.

xo

happy brithday sizzle!!!!

I love sizzle, man do i love sizzle. dude is nicest to the biggest douchebags that i cant even be in the same room with and you have to just love him and give him credit for his incredible tolerance and good nature. he makes me better bc im an asshole apparently. he's one of my favs and its his bday today and its like just yesterday we were 19 and i was calling him "uh i wont be meeting you all at the movies at 9 oops i got arrested, youre my phone call ill call u back at some point." Then there was the time i was running and fell in some road mess and needed 20 something stitches in my knee and he met me at the emergency room, drove to the hospital and ran into the back all panicy and saw a bloody knee mess and the doctor scrubbing the street remains out of my flesh while jabbing me with a big needle ....he goes "ehhh ickkk yeah" and walked straight to the waiting room. sizzle used to come to my house on lunchbreaks to eat ramen noodles and watch the cosby show at 1. what a great squad, whatever all my squads are awesome ridiculous. i miss 1999 but ask me how much i miss 96....pbft please. i love sizzle i love the 90s i love this blog and all the bitches that are reping it. sizzle thinks that neds atomic dustbin were a better band than the beatles. i think that into another and rush are the same band. amazing theories. anyway happy birthday to sizzle. i love you - stunner.

ps: please start hating more people, you'll feel much better. xo

notes from way above ground

Shawn: i edited out the parts about john

me: ha

Shawn: i just, don't want everyone knowing my business

me: ok

understandable

so now it's just us complaining about how ugly we are?

Shawn: haha

yea

and masturbation

2:55 PM and how you like adam because he's "safe"

me:

thatthat isn't WHY i like him

it's just a perk

take it out

2:56 PM lets slowly edit it down to nothing

like an installation project

Shawn: haha

me: that no one is looking at

Shawn: good installation project

its our concept

only we enjoy it

i'll see what you take next

its like, what people decide to show to the public

2:57 PM actually, post this

i just bought tobacco and smoked and now i feel gross

i'm going to quite again

quit

but, i like it!

notes from above ground

Shawn: hey you

13 minutes

12:06 PM me: aw. hi

i didn't see you

5 minutes

12:14 PM Shawn: denise makes the best posts ever

they are really funny

me: they're so her

Shawn: i need to get my mind out of the doldrums so

me: am i getting replaced?

Shawn:

12:15 PM being single sucks

Shawn: i'm already tired of masturbating only and its only been like, since tuesday

me:

you just have to embrace it

and try to not catch anything

12:17 PM Shawn: yea

12:18 PM

like, girls like us

we are nothing

me: i know

Shawn: there are all these foreigners

me: you'd be surprised

12:20 PM Shawn: yea

me:

i'm a toad

12:24 PM Shawn: i've decidedd that its a stress i'm willing to deal with

12:28 PM me: how come your face has changed so much

what's your secret?

Shawn: i don't know

12:29 PM me: YES YOU DO

don't hold out on me

Shawn:

we are mutable

mutants

12:31 PM me:

my face hasn't changed since i was 4

12:32 PM Shawn: you aren't a mutant.

like serge gainsborg

bourg

12:34 PM me: character

12:41 PM Shawn: oh

oh well

well well well

me: you should have followed your gut

Shawn: my apetite is sort of back but, i'm unattracted to most food

appetite

Shawn: my apetit is back

me: you have ape tits?

Shawn: yea, now i do

sag

12:54 PM but just the one

the one apetit

12:56 PM Shawn: ha

its unfortunate that i'm sort of like a standup comic

12:58 PM me: let's post this chat

it's nothing special

but it's honest

Shawn: ok

yea

i'm down

12:59 PM me: are you going back and re-reading it right now?

i know you are

1:00 PM Shawn: haah

haha, yes

1:03 PM me: well, you got a lot more personal than me in this, so it's up to you

Shawn: i don't really care

who reads it?

me: i don't know

1:04 PM there are some annon comments that are most likely from stunner, but who knows

and maybe a few message board people?

and kevin

hi kevin

1:07 PM Shawn: sup kev

yea, post it