funk dat

Oh but while I'm on the subject... this is extremely presumptuous of me, but after watching Control, it made me wonder if people really write better when they're experiencing some sort of emotional turmoil. Thoughts?



me: I just rented that Joy Division movie.

my sister: yeah i know it was a good fucken movie

me: But man. Ian Curtis was an asshole.

my sister: yeah he was, probably why he killed himself.



it's the little things.

noblesse oblige

I have had nothing to say lately. Nothing of importance, nothing of... unimportance. I'd really like a new camera, to be honest. I would love, instead of talking about it, to just document what I've been doing visually (make your joke, go ahead). I mean, the last time I was able to get pictures was (luckily) my San Francisco trip. And now my camera's basically busted. But there's no point in me posting pictures of the shiny, fancy new camera I want... I don't get why bloggers do that. "Oh, here's this new fantastic thing I want"... like we care? But then again, I suppose some of us do. Living vicariously through rich jackasses maybe?

In the words of Bartelby via Crispin Glover, "I'd prefer not to."

STILL, I'd like a camera that works.


one of several things that makes me less loathsome:

...more to come, whenever i feel like it.

'i wanna clamp michael's face in a george foreman grill'

There should never be enough time for you to stop and wonder, "what if". Just be. And do. Life is too short.

And if I wasn't hacking up a lung, I'd be out 'doing' and 'being'.

Being sick makes me extra loathsome of the human race. I've noticed this. And while some of it is admittedly irrational, trust me, I have my reasons.

Fuck you, San Diego.