he has a sex story to share in a bit, but for now: mr smarty pants recommends the muesli toast from knead. in an act of massive personal sacrifice he offered me some of his. it was fucking gorgeous. they don’t call him mr smarty pants for nothing. he is smart and he does wear…
Sunday Times Column
throw money at this guy, he's clever.
this guy is so clever he should have been twins. his name is cardon copy (maybe his parents weren’t so clever, what kind of name is that?) he’s a designer i found somewhere on the internetweb. he goes around and finds the home-made flyers and posters that people make and put up all over the…
sorry jim, i didn't mean to piss you off.
‘jim’, my personal trainer is mad at me, and you know what that means, more sit up-lunge-hammer-curl-things. i didn’t mean to offend him, what kind of retarded idiot do you think i am? it was his birthday and i really thought about it. i mean, what do you get a guy who races sharks to…
oh for fuck's sake, will you just shut up already!
for those of you who are sick to death of listening to me rabbit on about dating and penises and such, here are some pretty pictures i had absolutely nothing to do with, other than copying them off the internetweb and pasting them here.
mother knows best.
my mother called me last night: MOM: i like your blog, it’s very funny. ME: oh good. MOM: you do get around quite a bit, don’t you? silence. MOM: i haven’t shown your father yet. ME: maybe you shouldn’t. MOM: no, maybe not.
the return of the big black guy.
i’ve written about my drug dealer; ‘big black guy’ before, but being a laggard i don’t know how to link you to that post, so if you want to read it you’ll have to scroll back to the beginning to check it out. (‘my branded life’ maybe you can show me how to do this…
an alliterative weekend away in worcester.
i had a perfectly lovely time this weekend at the golden valley hotel and casino in worcester.ke? what the hell were you doing there? i hear you say. (yes, sometimes your voice is in my head (and christopher walken’s) but not in a creepy-please-see-a-doctor-kind-of-way, promise.) worcester is a little afrikaanse dorp about an hour’s beautiful…
fail.
hey guys/men/boys, how are you? good? good.ok, now, i know i’m treading on thin ice here, because you and your species didn’t ask for advice from me. so let’s not call it advice. rather let’s just call this a hint or a suggestion, a little tip. and the only reason i’m doing this is because…
more friday fig crumbs
poetry doesn’t get much better. except for this gem, it’s one of my all time favourite poems, by Charles Simic (1938 – ) there’s nothing after the dash here in my poetry book, does that mean he’s still alive? awesome. i wonder if he will marry me? i will go immediately to the google place…
i am seonna hong's new stalker.
this is some of her work: it’s artsy fartsy friday, but even if it wasn’t i would still love you, seonna hong. even though i’ve never met you. http://www.seonnahong.com/seonnahong/