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Monday, 16 November 2009

  • Imitation

    Perusing the aisles of a library. Carrying a stack of picture books about ecology. The phone rings, creating a struggle to keep a firm grip on the dozen or so books and suavely answer the call. Frustrated, disheveled, slightly self-conscious, "What?"
    "I'm at Longs."
    "Okay."
    "Do you need the coconut shampoo?"
    "No, I need conditioner."
    "They don't have coconut shampoo or conditioner. They have vanilla, shea butter, pomegranate..."
    "Shea butter is fine. I have the shampoo already. How much are they?"
    "Five bucks. So you want the shea butter conditioner?"
    "Yeah, and maybe the pomegranate shampoo. I want to try that next."
    "So, you want the pomegranate shampoo and the shea butter conditioner?"
    "Yeah."
    "Why not get two of the same?"
    "What?"
    "Why not get two of the shea butter."
    "Because I already have the shampoo. I don't need the shampoo."
    "But why would you get a different shampoo and conditioner?"
    "No, I already have a shea butter shampoo. I just bought a bottle. I'm running out of conditioner."
    "Oh, so why do you want the pomegranate shampoo?"
    "Because that's the next one I want to try after I run out of this one."
    "Oh."
    "Just get the shea butter conditioner."
    "You don't want any shampoo?"
    "No, just the conditioner."
    "Okay."
    "Kay, bye."

Sunday, 15 November 2009

  • Up bubbles all his amorous breath!

    "I am living today in yesterday: I was in a complete fascination all day. I feel myself at your mercy. Write me ever so few lines and tell you [for me] you will never for ever be less kind to me than yesterday. You dazzled me. There is nothing in the world so bright and delicate. When shall we pass a day alone? I have had a thousand kisses, for which with my whole soul I thank love--but if you should deny me the thousand and first--'t would put me to the proof how great a misery I could live through."

    And I haven't been writing anything creative. There is something about a toilet monologue. Internal. A short, maybe. A stream of consciousness type thing. On the toilet. I really need to do this and this and this. I should go there. I remember going there with him/her. I wonder what he/she is doing. I wonder when I'll see him/her again. I can't believe I said that to him/her. I can't believe I did that. Maybe I'll call later. I really should try harder. I shouldn't give up. I should keep going. I shouldn't hold back. What's in the fridge for dinner? Maybe I should prepare this. I'll need to go to the store for that. Do I have time? Do I have any time left? I really have to make sure I do this, though. If I finish half of it, I'll go. Just half. Yeah, half. Flush.
    Or a Paris, Je T'aime-esque profiling of 21st century youths in relationships. You know the whole facebook, twitter, myspace, comment, message, text, ignoring of calls thing. In a disconnected society, we still search for a spark.
    But there's this whole thing of academia and post-9/11 feminism and environmental studies that takes time away from strolls with talking walruses and chats about the fundamentals of oyster farming. Or comforting elephants about the lack of scuba diving equipment for their kind. But there will be justice. Eventually.

Thursday, 12 November 2009

  • Moustaches are the bee's knees.

    The facial hair on the upper lip of a man is quickly becoming the sexiest fashion statement.
    The market is buying into this, and so am I.

    1.

    I have this shirt. It's my incredibly comfortable, lucky shirt. And I may or may not have worn it in order to get a specific message across to certain mustachioed men.

    2.

    What would make me happier than a Christmas tree decorated with moustaches? Exactly. And during the off-season, the handlebar can be a nifty keychain! Thank you urbanoutfitters.com, for making my dreams come true.

    3.

    I want to disguise my boo boos with sexy mustachioed bandages. No one will ever know I cut my finger trying to make you dinner.

    4.

    Yes, I want this on my bed. Preferably alongside a real man with a matching moustache. Shirtless. Pants are also optional. Pillow found here.

    5.

    What do I want for Christmas? One of these mugs. I don't care that it's nearly thirty of my hard earned dollars to some man sitting in a run-down apartment in England. This combines two of my eternal loves: facial hair and coffee cups. Mugs found here.

    6.

    This is the only way I'll ever sharpen my memory. And possibly learn Swedish. Game found here.

    Note: I hold no prejudice against beards either. I am a lover of all facial hair... on men. Don't point me to that bearded woman teaching at Pratt Institute. Support your fellow man through "Movember," aka No Shave November, a month that promotes men's health. For more information, visit us.movember.com

Monday, 09 November 2009

  • kiss me between the bars

    Oh, what was I thinking to leave with such heated words?
    Meaningless, for there is no threat.
    And why, I still wonder what it is you think;
    Perceptions, ideologies, opinions are all important--are they not?
    I cannot take the entrapment in this room any longer.
    It's closing in on me. Suffocating me.
    Break me out, you damned man.
    Ah, but it's pure fantasy.
    My god, that's all it has ever been.
    It is a bore, darling. Such that I cannot begin to tell you.
    I await your return, if one will be granted.
    You must excuse my behavior at such an hour.
    Wherever you are, whomever your with,
    I send this with love.

    --20xx

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  • "I'm narcissistic, I'm pessimistic, I'm obsessive, I'm insecure and I am so afraid of intimacy that every one of my relationships is a journey of self-sabotage that inevitably ends in a black vacuum of shattered expectations and despair."