halloweene'en

Tonight I planned a little Halloween eve party, so to speak. I figured everyone would be busy Halloween proper, so I planned it for tonight. I'd hoped to finally use my little courtyard. I'd decorated it up and gotten everything set...and then the rains came.

So, instead, we all had to huddle into my cramped little apartment.

(Here we are. Such a shame no one came in costume.)

(here I am. Doesn't my hair look fabulous?)




We spent most of the night watching movies. I'd rented "Shaun of the Dead" but, unfortunately, my projector is cheap and the picture was kind of jerky. I figured it wouldn't be too noticeable, what with their being zombies and all. I was wrong.

Later on Marshall managed to get a streaming version of (all but the last four minutes of) the 1974 classic "Black Christmas" (which is rather disappointingly white, I'm afraid...I'm talking Canadian white.)

But it was very fun, just the same. Any movie with Margot Kidder swilling liquor in every scene she's in and then getting killed with a glass unicorn is magical! (and thematic too!!

Plus a young Andrea Martin...with a fro that's scarier than anything else in the movie. It's all too wonderful.

Sadly, we'll never know who the killer is, since my internet connection went out before the last four minutes were up. Probably because of the rain. I guess we'll just have to use our imaginations or something. Sucks.

Anyway, here's Pedro, my zombie unicorn pinata. I'd planned to hang him outside and have everyone have a turn. Unfortunately, because of the stupid rain, we couldn't. I realized that swinging a bat in a crowded room is probably not nearly as much fun as it sounds.

I figured the second most fun way of getting the candy out would be to take turns fisting the unicorn.

Much more fun than a bat anyway, right?

I bought a pillow

That, sadly, is the most excitement I've had in the past few days. It was pretty, it was on sale, and

I've always had a thing for peacocks (go ahead, cue the jokes).

A few months ago at the zoo, in fact, I took my first digital photograph ever....of, you guessed it, a peacock, a particularly nasty one too.


Immediately after I snapped his picture, he rushed forward and tried to peck my leg. That's what they do, it seems. There's a metaphor there, I'm sure.

Anyway, too bad it was the zoo, or he'd be decorating my couch right now...and not that pillow. That's all I'm saying.

The pillow also reminded me of one of my favorite rooms of all time, Whistler's famous Peacock room, which I've long dreamed of seeing in person. I figure if I start with the pillow maybe I can work my way up, right?

It also reminded me of 5th grade, when our pretty new art teacher, Miss Martin, (from some foreign land called "Connecticut" or something) initiated us into the mysteries of papier mache.

Our assignment was to create a "favorite animal".

Amidst the sad lumpy teddy bears and boring kitty cats, the crosseyed puppies, the pedestrian turtles....and an elephant that looked like a giant turd with a tusk...

was mine---a near life sized peacock, painted up in iridescent acrylic, lacquered with about twenty two coats of polyurethane, complete with three dimensional wired tail feathers.

Oddly, I was ridiculed. Apparently nothing screams "fag!" like a peacock.
Whatever.

Somewhere in the intervening years it dry rotted and had to be thrown away, despite the twenty two coats of polyurethane. There's a metaphor somewhere in there too, I'm sure, but I'm too tired to care.

happy hallowpeen!

By way of the wonderful cakewrecks, of course

remind me

Oh Patrice....such an underrated singer and musician....with one of the prettiest voices ever.
I never tire hearing it.

I checked out a copy of this cd a few months ago from the public library (that's how I roll: poor old school, baby).

The broken jewel case was held together with a rubber band. It hadn't been checked out in five years. I ended up having to pay a dollar late fee because I'd kept it on constant rotation in my car too long. Totally worth it.

Glamourshots

So, who would you rather clean your rifle?


Barb

or


Shernice

heartbreaker

Garçons - "French Boy"

I stumbled upon this clip a while back. I'd never heard of

Garçons before. Since, I've become a bit fascinated. But why wouldn't I?
French? Disco?! I'm there.



(they almost out-Junior/Senior Junior Senior, n'est-ce pas?)

neo Brazzi

So I'm minding my own business, doing an innocent google search for "Rossano Brazzi naked" (thanks to the ever fabulous TJB of course)

when where do I find myself?

Nowhere else but an Aryan Nation website....

specifically the "Do you prefer younger men or older men?"
topic thread at the "Stormfront Ladies Only: Sugar and spice, and everything nice" bulletin board.
The ladies are all fired up over this one, it seems:

"Sweet Spirit" writes:

"I've always been drawn to older men and that still holds, though I now am "of a certain age" myself. I respect the wisdom and stability of an older gentleman and appreciate the patina of age, so to speak. :)
__________________
Your white race is you. It is unnatural not to love and be proud of it.

Remember the Alamo ~"

"Brunhilda" prefers men her own age, but has a boyfriend who's ten years her junior.

"Cartman" reviews a Tatum O'Neal film

"Buttercup" writes that it "just felt more right to date someone older. "

"White Camellia" writes:

"the 57 year old was from the Alto-Adige region of Italia (also known as the Sud Tirol). He was so handsome...he looked and sounded very much like the late actor, Rossano Brazzi! he is deceased now, he died 9 years ago. We remained good friends even after we parted ways."

Her lovely memory is followed by a poignant tribute to an "INNOCENT VICTIM OF BLACK SAVAGERY, 2009 (age: 2 month"

and a picture of a kitty cat.

It's all I can do not to create a profile myself, oh, something like "Aunt Pittypat69" and write an anecdote about the hot black janitor I met in the Sud Appalachians when I was just a young virgin white edelweiss of, oh, 12 or so, and the hot sex we had in the middle school cafeteria refrigerator.

Or something.

You see yourself here if you care dare

Why?

How can one not love a Skeeter?
Or a bouffant side ponytail?
Or a dramatic spoken word interlude?

beautiful

by way of Vincent by way of Daily Kos

recent purchases

A big honkin' plastic Madonna. I love anything with a crown. Can't help it. I got it at the thrift store for a steal. Of course, I got the evil eye from the tiny Mexican grandmother who also wanted it but couldn't reach the top shelf. How do you say "¡Losers weepers, baybee!" en español anyway?




My new Dr. Martens boots...purchased at one third off the retail price. They are perfectly new, by the way, pristine, overstock. I wore them the first time today, now that we have a bit of a nip in the air.

It's like I'm back in high school, wearing my Doc Martens again!

They're not fashionable, I know, but they've always honestly been the most comfortable pair of shoes I've ever owned. My last pair was lost in Katrina's flood, alas.
These chafe my ankles but, hey, the heels let me reach that top shelf, right?

Six things heard from my bed tonight...

since it's finally cool enough to turn off the constant roar of the air conditioner:



A frantically ringing church bell.

A ship's horn (I'm miles from the river).

A live band playing Bel Biv Devoe's classic "Poison"

A plaintive train's whistle

A marching band's tuba heavy rendition of "Lady Marmalade"

Twelve million police sirens screaming down Canal

melanie

Just heard this the other day on the radio for the first time in a million years...and realized just how utterly filthy dirty it was.

stuff I kind of need right now

A George Barbier
Penguin classics in hardcover

A lego camera

A nice ice cream (and a jaunty sailor suit)

Pin up wrapping paper




Another treehouse


Young Sean Connery (or at least that tam)


(at least) some fun around here.

Two of yesterday's local news stories. Compare and contrast (and compare)

By The Associated Press
October 16, 2009, 6:15AM
"A Louisiana justice of the peace said he refused to issue a marriage license to an interracial couple out of concern for any children the couple might have.

'My main concern is for the children,' said Keith Bardwell, justice of the peace in Tangipahoa Parish.
Keith Bardwell, justice of the peace in Tangipahoa Parish, says it is his experience that most interracial marriages do not last long.

"I'm not a racist. I just don't believe in mixing the races that way," Bardwell told the Associated Press on Thursday. "I have piles and piles of black friends. They come to my home, I marry them, they use my bathroom. I treat them just like everyone else."

Bardwell said he asks everyone who calls about marriage if they are a mixed race couple. If they are, he does not marry them, he said..."

rest here

Obama visits New Orleans:

Just saw

the first roach in my apartment in three years.

Horrors!

Must be those dirty carpetbaggers from Colorado downstairs....or maybe Obama.

pre Halloween

I'm still trying to figure out my costume for Halloween this year. Here are some options off the top of my head:


A.

Something chic.

Advantages: I'm sure I have everything needed already.
Disadvantages: All those
sedity, bourgie bitches out there.

B.
Something sacred.

Advantages: I'll score some change from the crowd.
Disadvantages: I'm an autumn. Pink is a bad color for me.

C.
Something classic

Advantages: I won't have to shave (much).
Disadvantages: PETA

D.

Something to honor my astrological sign (Largeblackgayius)

Advantages: Lots of white boy phone numbers.
Disadvantages: camel
toe.

E.Something to honor our valiant forefathers.

Advantages: available at Woolworths
Disadvantages: vinyl burn.

F.Something patriotic. (like Popeyes chicken)

Advantages: The smell of chicken grease. mmmm
Disadvantages: I'd have to
shave.

just cause.

It always cheers me up.

pita party

Here's our beloved Julia making pita with...uh...


what seems to be a tranny pita chef.
God I miss her.


(is all this redundant? maybe just a little)

decoration

I found this Kennedy era book at a local book fair a few months ago, and had to buy it.
It's in near perfect condition and in both French and English.
I don't have a scanner and the plates are too big to scan anyway, so I resorted to taking really bad photos.
These really don't do the book justice. It really is beautiful.
I like to imagine Jackie poring over such a book, planning to redecorate the White House once she moves in.

The cover, chic, no?





Here's a home in America, geodesic dome and all. I wonder if it still exists?

Another home in "le sud ouest américain"

a glimmer of the soon to be Victorian revival of the later 60s? Who knows.

The Airconditioners of Chernobyl

The past week or so I've felt just awful. It all started last Thursday or so.
It seems to be nothing more than my biannual fit of allergy-related severe coughing, etc.
At least I hope that's all.
I seem to be just shifting the mucus around my body, from chest to head to ears to head. It's all pretty disgusting.

It's an ugly inheritance from my father (who also gets it the same time), but it's been exacerbated lately by a few other things. One is the ridiculously humid weather around here lately. It's October ferchristsakes! These should be the one and only few weeks that are nice here, and yet they're oppressive. If this is what October has become, there's no hope for us this coming summer.

Book me a room on the sun, please.

The other is that my classroom's AC has given out yet again. It started smoking on May 1 and went out and, except for a few blessed weeks in September, it's been out ever since. This is UNACCEPTABLE! I've told the administration at least 10 times about it and they've half heartedly attempted to fix it, but it never quite sticks. It's been out for a week now this most recent time, and they've yet to follow up on my demands for someone to even investigate.


The last two days, from a combination of the heat and the dizziness caused by being sick, I nearly passed out.
(That'll teach me to lace the corset too tight again, I guess, huh?)

Anyway, I'm not even kidding about the passing out part.

I talked to the assistant principal again today, complaining, and she was sympathetic, but who knows if anything will get done. Our maintenance man can't quite roll himself out of the gutter this week it seems.

Meanwhile, I've been doped up on my father's purloined codeine and any number of other drugs for the past few days. Monday, I'd awakened feeling much better, but since then the combination of stifling heat, overwork and frustration got the better of me.

Anyway, I just got home today to find a welcome movie in my mailbox, one of my favorites, "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg." It's the prettiest most depressing all-French musical ever.
(Or maybe just one of them. Who knows.)

I like to think of it, however, as a movie about wallpaper.

That's what hypnotized me the first time I saw it...fabulous upon fabulous scene of wallpaper.

Oh, and there's the impossibly beautiful Catherine Deneuve, of course....and the equally beautiful Nino Castelnuovo.

It's a lot of pretty.

Sadly, tonight I think I'm too tired to even listen to it.
I might just have to put it on mute.

But that'll work.

from the window

I heard about this on the ride home from work today.
Like any girl, I suppose, she wants to see the bride.

Kind of amazing, isn't it?

un-Lucky

A while back, I subscribed to Domino Magazine.


I'd been offered a super-duper-offer-you-can't-refuse "professional rate," because, well, as we all know teachers and decorators are in the same profession. I mean, we're both all about safety scissors and being smart assed, right?

I had checked Domino out a few times from the public library and I was kind of excited.

Unfortunately, the magazine went out of business promptly upon the cashing of my check, it seems.
In lieu they sent me "Lucky". (yeah, irony anyone?)

This has to be the single suckiest magazine I've ever seen. Seriously. Even if I were in its target demographic (shut up.), I'd hate it.

I mean it's nothing but ads masquerading as "articles" sandwiched between ads not masquerading as articles.
It's like a catalogue you have to pay for, but without all that pesky "pricing and shipping help" nonsense, you know.

I can't even give the copies away. I've tried with every female I know. No one wants them. My mother used them for the cat litter for a while, but then the cat died.

Tossing out today's issue, I see a sample of Ed Hardy's "Christian Audigier's" new perfume ("available at Dillards"). I'm not even going to sully my garbage can.

I just need to think of something useful to do with those "mark your favorite" sticker tabs.

Which will it be?

Bacon Ice Cream


Or

Bacon Lube
Thanks (?) to Sam

Or is that a bit repugnant redundant?

good news

The Health Department has finally allowed the Korean restaurant to open again!

Went tonight.
Dol-Sot-Bibimbap.
Yeay!

Waitress tells us, "We on vacation."
Yeah, right.

missed connections

Found this by way of towleroad. They're from Missed Connections. It's
the site of an artist, Sophie Blackall, who illustrates Craigslist Missed Connections ads (always my favorites) ever so winsomely.

Monday, March 23, 2009
-m4w (Harlem)
Remember? Uptown A train. Sunday at around 9pm. I was the black dude reading Bukowski's Post Office. You were reading the Arts and Leisure section. You passed wind rather loudly and started chuckling. I'd like to see you again. The flatulence wasn't a turn-off.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009
- w4m - 23 (Hoboken, NJT station)
I just wanted to say thank you for offering to help carry my little orangey/pink suitcase. It really meant a lot because I was having a really terrible day.
-Half asian girl in the green shirt

Saturday, September 5, 2009

- m4m - 29 (astoria)
we were both swimming around 5-6 in astoria pool. we ended up walking the same direction in the park for a while but didn't talk. i wish i had said hi...so i figured i would on here.
worth a shot.

________________________________________

I shudder to think what she'd do with some of the gems I've found there. There aren't enough colored pencils in the world to depict some things.