Undead Molly

New Blog

2011-04-07T08:40:00.000-07:00

Hey! I'm starting to blog in new digs: www.Manglewood.com.

For my graphic design and typophile friends

2010-03-30T08:30:00.000-07:00

All of the pictures are links. Unless I fucked up.

Pic dump!

2010-02-25T08:46:00.000-08:00

Hi! I miss you, too! I'll try to be a better blogger. I've just been busy with things... painting our apartment, home repairs, researching grad schools, and making little bugs out of scrap metal for this art show.

Pygmy Marmosets

2010-01-20T14:10:00.001-08:00

I'm going to Florida for a few days. So don't freak out if I don't answer your messages right away. And now here are some pygmy marmosets to tide you over:

Undead Molly's Guide to Garter Belts

2010-01-18T07:00:00.000-08:00

As I get older, I feel my personal aesthetic choices getting narrower and narrower. Sure, sure, one can do anything one wants in theory, but in reality one doesn't want to be mistaken for a homeless person, soccer mom, or geriatric prostitute. I find myself turning more and more to the fashion and glamor of decades past for guidance. It allows me to be feminine and girly without misstepping into age inappropriateness, trashy Jersey wife-ishness, or trend victimhood. One hopes.

It's not always easy in Vermont, though. We simply don't have the boutique variety required for a dedicated vintage look. One item I have a lot of trouble locating is the garter belt.

First of all, this is not a garter belt:

It's a garter. These are garter belts:

You can see that it really is a belt. It encircles Bettie's waist and has straps that hang down and end in a type of fastener called hose grips or garter grips. They look like this:

The top of the stocking lays flat over the rubber nub to be secured in place by placement of the metal bit.

Most women probably have never given garter belts a second thought. They're considered a pretty bit of history - antiquated, obsolete. Why would anyone want to fuss with an extra bit of underwear when we don't have to wear thigh high stockings any more? Well, I know that not everyone agrees but I find tights and pantyhose to be the most itchy, absurd, uncomfortable, unsexy, unfeminine creation of modern hosiery. Add to that unhygienic - wearing panyhose can contribute to the development of yeast infections, bladder infections and bacterial vaginosis because they trap warmth and moisture, creating a perfect environment for bacteria and fungus to flourish. So no, nobody HAS to wear thigh high stockings, but since I have the choice I strongly prefer the more comfortable and feminine option that does not turn my crotch into a cootie incubator.

Aside from all that, they're just plain unflattering on pretty much everyone. Except maybe her:

The most common type of thigh high you'll find in stores in the "stay up" variety. These feature bands of tacky silicone inside the top which are, in addition to the stocking's inherent elasticity, supposed to keep the stocking in place and eliminate the need for a garter belt. While the silicone does help a lot, I think that the manufacturers are blatantly overselling. They'll stay up well if you are wearing them for a very short time, indoors, not moving around much. Many factors can contribute to the silicone losing it's hold on your skin: friction, gravity, skin oils, sweat, dead skin cells sloughing off. The tops of thigh highs are not just in danger of slippage, though, they can also roll down. If you're wearing stocking with a seam up the back they end up slowly twisting and migrating around as you wear and readjust them until you end up with a sloppy, crooked line. Quel dommage!

A garter belt eliminates these worries. You just put it on and go! The only trouble I have with garter belts is finding them here in Vermont. Actually, I can find loads of them, the trouble is finding good ones. There are specific things I look for:

1. Solid construction. Most of the belts you find in department and lingerie stores are decorative and intended only for special occasion rendezvous, not long term wear. They're flimsy little bits of cheap elastic and lace that will not be comfortable or stay in place.

2. No three dimensional details. The little rosettes, bows, and lace ruffles might look cute in the store but they don't look very cute at all making mysterious bumps and ridges under your dress. You want it to fit as smooth and invisible as possible.

3. Metal hose grips. I have never encountered a plastic grip that wasn't an infuriating waste of time and money. They bend, they break, they end up in the trash.

4. A true belt. I often see garters attached to corselettes or girdlettes.

A corselette (AKA corselete, Merry Widow, or Basque)

A girdlette

These are often very nice and quite comfortable, but they can make it quite difficult to pee. If you can't picture why, well, I don't know how to explain it without a series of diagrams. I wear these fairly often but never if I know I'm likely to be drinking and therefore peeing a lot.

If I can't find a true belt I'll look for something that at least has a very high "skirt".

5. Non-white. I have plenty of white garter belts because there are plenty of vintage ones around. What I have great difficulty finding are decent garter belt in other colors - especially black! There are loads of black garter belt available, but they are mostly of the filmy, froo-froo, non-practical variety. The solid ones I find (like those pictured above) are sadly way out of my price range.

Was this topic really worth an entire blog post? Maybe not. But more and more people are getting into vintage fashion, so who knows? Maybe it will prove useful to someone, somewhere. And maybe one of you has a lead on a secret source of good, affordable, black garter belts!

Things I want for Ecksmas

2009-12-20T07:25:00.000-08:00

Oh, hai. Sorry it's been so long. I was busy for awhile and I've been sick for the past week thanks to this plague-bearing motherfucker.

Here's what I want for Christmas (images are linked):

Grotesk Burlesque rocked my face off.

2009-11-23T08:43:00.000-08:00

It was a no-brainer from the start. Main Street Museum? Love. Grotesque? Yum. Burlesque? Yes, please. All three together in one event? HELL YES!

S. R. Wild booked us a room at the White River Junction Econolodge. Why there? Well, they have a nice, warm pool.

After a day of driving, sauntering around WRJ, food, and swimming we got ready to head out to the show. Sock garters, cuff links, and a three piece suit for him, fancy underthings and cocktail attire for me.

The door was being worked by these friendly, partially clothed slaves:

And a table brimming with nibbles awaited us.

Even the MSM buck was dressed up in his fur stole.

After a bit of schmoozing and listening to smutty Victrola records, the show began!

Our delicious hostesses, Sloppy Jo and Slow Lee:

The first musical act, So Sol took the stage. I wish I could have taken more video - they were so good! - but my little camera only has so much memory. I had to be judicious.

The dirty, dirty stylings of Pink and Harry:
A tap dancing starfish

Sloppy Jo had a very special assistant, a blind pigeon!

Our hostesses grew increasingly undressed as the evening went on...

There was SO much more that I'm not able to include here. Peelers, audience participation, a very acrobatic pole dancer, ukulele jams, music, music, and more music. You all must, must, must check out this show next time it appears!

The audience titillated and enraptured:

Rope bondage fashion show:

Good night everybody!

The only part I regret is that we missed breakfast at the Econolodge the next morning. :(

THANK YOU GROTESK BURLESQUE!

Zombie Weddings

2009-11-21T06:39:00.000-08:00

Dita Von Teese: inspirational

2009-11-11T09:44:00.000-08:00

What would you ask Obama?

2009-11-06T12:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I was listening to a call-in show on our local public radio station. The guest was one of our senators, Bernie Sanders. He's very accessible as are our other delegates, Senator Pat Leahy and Congressman Peter Welch. All three frequently submit themselves to similar call-in type shows on local radio and television programs, and they and their staff are good about responding to calls, emails, and letters.

I have not often taken advantage of their gracious recipience. I'm always surprised when I hear them talk about Vermonters coming up to them on the street to ask or talk about issues. I wonder what on earth I would say if trapped in an elevator with one of them, or worse: Barack Obama. The problems facing the U.S. are so huge and complicated, how does anyone know what to say when given the opportunity?

To be honest, I think I would just burst into tears. I voted for these men (Sanders and Leahy in multiple elections). I feel they do a good job. I trust them, but at the same time I have to acknowledge the terror and willing blind faith behind that trust. They stand between me and incomprehensibly frightening fates. I am on a boat in a vast, terrible sea and I need to believe that the captain and crew know how to keep me safe and dry.

I feel so scared all the time, and I think that's what would bubble up if I was ever face to face with my elected officials. I'm afraid because of all the more practical aspects of politics I don't have any hope of ever understanding - economic theories, bills that are hundreds or thousands of pages long, the intricacies of law in a constitution-based federal republic, the reams of scientific data that opposing sides present to prove or disprove anything. I don't find all of the simplistic similes, animations, and "in a nutshell" summaries comforting. Everyone talks about these issues, vomiting up little bits of rhetoric they picked up from the media. But nobody seems to sincerely and thoroughly understand.

I'm afraid of all the philosophical and personal aspects of government that have no legal explanation - public policy being based on Judeo-Christian beliefs, good politicians' careers being ended by politically irrelevant tabloid scandals, people on all sides lying and acting like selfish children. Why is it okay for some people to impose idiosyncratic religious standards onto everyone else?

I'm afraid about Iraq and Afghanistan. Why doesn't anyone know the best approach to these regions? Why does it seem like we just keep senselessly throwing troops at the problems without any viable plan or strategy? I think about all the men and women who have died overseas. They will never see their families again, or their home towns. I think about the people who have come back, some of them forever altered in ways the rest of us could never understand. It's too huge and terrible and makes me desperately afraid for them.

I'm afraid about health care. I have chronic, incurable health problems and without daily medication, access to lab facilities, and the attendance of physicians, I will die. My immune system will attack my internal organs and I will die. I can't possibly understand these voluminous plans that everyone is fighting about, not that I could do anything about them if I could. I just have to trust that Bernie and Pat and President Obama have me somewhere in mind as they move forward.

What else can I do?

Lamest Candy Substitutes 2009

2009-10-31T14:47:00.001-07:00

Every year at Halloween time I see lists of stuff you can give out to trick-or-treaters instead of candy. Every list introduction assures you that the kids will LOVE getting something other than those evil sweets. Yeah, right. Here are some of the crappiest tips I've seen this year.

Toothbrushes , toothpaste or dental floss
Packets of organic tea
Soap
Chick Tracts
Lupus Awareness wrist bands
Pennies
Rulers
Fruit
Shoe laces
Fake money
"small pads of paper"

Troll 2

2009-10-24T09:30:00.000-07:00

What are you doing for Halloween? A party? Come on... aren't you a little old to be squeezing yourself into the "sexy pirate wench" costume and drinking all night until sleeping on a complete stranger's bathroom floor seems like a good idea? Instead of embarrassing yourself and everyone else this year, come see Best Worst Movie!

Best Worst Movie is coming to Vermont thanks to ME! Okay, maybe it's technically because of the Vermont International Film Festival and the Palace 9, but I was the one who originally put the idea in Bill Simmon's head. And as if it wasn't enough that I've somehow dragged an entire movie theater and film festival into my Troll 2 obsession, I also got my graphic design genius beau, S.R. Wild to design posters! They came out awesome (but I think that's primarily due to me coming up with the original concept sketch, not the subsequent hours Scott spent working on the final product).

Original sketch:

Final product:
See? Clearly all me.

Anyway, you should come down to the Palace 9 Halloween night! Not only for the Best Worst Movie/Troll 2 double feature, but there will also be a costume contest. First prize is a year's free passes for you and a guest to the Palace 9!!! Yes, I do think that deserves three exclamation points. Second prize is a booklet of free passes!

It will be awesome! And all because of glorious ME!

Holy Halloween!

2009-10-23T07:58:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in over a month! What the deuce? I have no explanation. But I do have the kick-ass Disney Halloween special I taped off TV and watched over and over again until the tape deteriorated. It aired in 1987 when I was 10. Bless you, YouTube.

Undead Cupcakes

2009-09-16T09:32:00.000-07:00

Behold! A scintillating smorgasbord of spooky sweets
inspired by the seriously sexy e_to_the_m.

Photo dump

2009-09-07T10:00:00.000-07:00

Because I know how much you like rectangles!

That little cart is being pulled by dogs!

Polish horror movie posters

2009-09-02T08:51:00.001-07:00

If you care about movies, art, and/or graphic design you should really explore Polish movie posters. They are amazing and really make one realize what complete cookie-cutter shit American graphic design is*.

You wish to buy?

You wish to see more?

The Omen

The Exorcist

Christine

Aliens

The Shining

Critters

Alien

Gremlins

The Swarm

The Hunger

Angel Heart

The Fly

The Changeling

Three posters for Rosemary's Baby!

* No offense meant to graphic designers. I know it's the market and the retarded art directors and project managers, etc.. Not you as individuals.

Ten Ways to Set Off a Horror Fan

2009-08-20T08:08:00.000-07:00

Notice I wrote "set off" not "piss off". Most of the horror fans I know can rant and argue passionately for hours, but it's all in fun, not anger. No matter how snarky things get, at the end of the day we're all still friends and members of an affectionate and enthusiastic community. Please notice also that I'm not claiming these are the best ways, they're just the first ten ways that sprang to my mind.

1. Compile a superlative list. "Ten Best Horror Movies of the 80s"! "Top 25 Horror Films Ever Made"! It doesn't matter what the parameters are, everybody is going to disagree with your choices and let you know exactly why in a very detailed and vehement fashion.

2. Refer to 28 Days Later as a "zombie" movie. Oh. My. God. This has been one of the most hotly debated concepts in horror in the past ten years. When 28 Days Later came out, people started describing it as a zombie movie, and since then there has been this new wave of movies which feature "zombies" which are similar to those in 28DL: fast, acrobatic, frenetically violent, and not necessarily undead. Why is this a problem? Because for decades now the Romero zombie (dead, clumsy, slow) has been the classic standard.

This is one I personally don't get bunged up about. I do understand the argument, but until another word is invented for people who are so profoundly altered by a pathogen that they lose all traces of humanity and are driven solely by their desire to violently kill and eat non-infected persons, what should we call them? Infecteds? Besides, Romero did not invent zombies, nor did he make the first zombie film! He inarguably founded the zombie genre of films that flourished and became what we know today, but zombies existed way before movies were even invented. Look! I made a little chart to elucidate some of the differences:

See? They're all over the place. The only thing they have in common is the loss of humanity. Not to get all book learnin'y on you, but I think it's because zombies are a cultural archetype which exists to express a particular collective fear. As cultures change so do their fears, and hence do their zombies. You know?

3. Mention PG-13 horror movies. This is another bonkers one, but it's mostly the fans railing against Hollywood and very little debate actually occurs within the community. The sentiment is that PG-13 horror movies are inherently bad. They are produced by greedy studios who want to cash in on the current popularity of horror films without knowing or caring anything about the genre or it's history.

For the most part I think this is true and correct. However, I am not opposed to PG-13 movies in theory. I don't think that a horror movie is going to be necessarily good or bad based on which side of the stupid, arbitrary MPAA standards it happens to fall. In fact, I think the basis of great horror is not what is seen and graphically depicted, it's what is feared and left unseen. The horror which impacts me the most and lingers the longest is that which lets my own brain do the work for it - suggesting, flickering, peripheral glances. That's the stuff that really gets inside you and makes you afraid to be home alone at night. Great storytelling neither needs nor excludes gore and nudity.

4. Classic vs. modern. This conflict probably exists in every genre of not just film but also music, literature, art, fashion, etc.. "There hasn't been a good horror movie made in the past ____ years!". Fans can go back and forth endlessly naming quality contemporary films and crappy old ones.

5. Mention remakes. Another fan vs.The Man struggle. Why does Hollywood keep desecrating classics, remaking them into shitty, watered down versions of the original? Why? Because they don't care about standards, they care about money. No amount of message board wailing is ever going to alter that.

6. Fangoria vs. Rue Morgue. Fangoria and Rue Morgue are the two major magazines covering the horror industry. Fangoria has been around for decades and lovingly covers the film industry, focusing on mainstream releases but also devoting some attention to indie and foreign flicks, video games, literature, and horror cinema history. Rue Morgue's focus is somewhat opposite - foreign/indie first, mythology, history, literature, trivia, with new releases and mainstream efforts coming in last. Sounds like they compliment each other perfectly, right? Not quite. Each magazine has fans and detractors of their primary raison d'être (Fango is all Hollywood sell-out, Rue Morgue is out of touch, etc.), but my beef is more practical than philosophical. I trust Fangoria, I do not trust RM. I have found so many errors in every issue of the latter over the years that I will no longer spend money on it. And while I wish Fangoria would devote a little more space to indie efforts, at least I know it's been written and edited by loving, dedicated professionals. Tony Timpone is my co-pilot.

7. Uwe Boll. Uwe Boll is a director of admirable moxie and brilliant business acumen but disastrously poor movie making sense. He has made some of the most terrible mainstream horror films of the past decade which pissed off not only horror fans but gamers, too, as they were based on video games. There are anti-fan clubs, petitions, websites, newsgroups, etc. all devoted to ending his career.

While I can't stand his movies, I like what I know of him as a person. He is a feisty German vegan weirdo with an adorably fiendish gap-toothed grin.

8. Ask if they liked Twilight. Why would that set off a horror fan? Because it's not a horror movie. The inclusion of vampires does not a horror movie make. It's tweenybopper fangbanger pr0n.

9. Question the greatness of a revered classic. Don't tell anyone you didn't like Halloween, Friday the 13th, Nosferatu, Night of the Living Dead, Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, Suspiria, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or any other of the sacred canon.

10. Suggest that horror movies cause violent crime. This is just stupid. People have been claiming this ever since horror movies first began and there is no evidence to support it. Violence isn't cause by a single, simple trigger like a movie or a video game or metal music. It's easy to see the appeal of such simplistic beliefs, they identify an easy scapegoat that saves the speaker from critical thought and having to address the real causes of violence. Complex and pervasive socio-cultural factors you can't fix with a simple ban or increased censorship. Just ask the West Memphis Three what that kind of thinking (or circumvention thereof) gets you.

The magic of childbirth...

2009-07-28T08:50:00.000-07:00

Sunday evening I was reminded (by this person, specifically) that people eat human placentas. This lead me to Tweeterating this video...

... and I remembered that I had intended to post these photos of the cake from a baby shower thrown by some far away but well loved associates of mine. It gives me hope for the future of this planet that these genetic bastions of intelligence and pastry skillz are procreating.

So this is what baby shower cakes are "supposed" to look like:

And this is what baby shower cakes should look like in an ideal world:

Things I have seen (recently)

2009-07-22T14:56:00.000-07:00

Things I saw while stuck in the Pine Street construction traffic:

PELLET!

Flooding

Things I saw at the Salvation Army on Dorset Street:

Willy McWeirdBeard

And his girlfriend luau Fiona.

Things I saw at home:

A tie I made for my very kind and talented friend Ant
My own middle toenail bed
My whole toenail ripped off!
Yes, it hurts. Yes, I did have to get a big, juicy macro close-up for you.

My tortoise Chester looking ridiculously cute when he eats

Things I saw while out and about:

Is that what I think it is? No way.

ZOMFG. We are all going to die. Yes. Apocalypse. Yes.
It's a Hummer with AN AIRBRUSH PORTRAIT OF ITSELF ON THE BACK.

In the service garage at Heritage Ford and Toyota in South Burlington, one of the mechanics has made a fireplace out of cardboard boxes.

It was so funny. Apparently they even had family photos up on the "mantel" but had taken them down by the time my photos were taken.
That's all for now. You be good.
Okay?

Diner Dining

2009-07-01T09:30:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday S. R. Wild and I went to the Arcadia diner for lunch. I'd passed it many times and would think, "Oh, I should check that out some time..." but never seemed to get around to it. It used to be the Parkway Diner. It's on Williston Road across from Hooters.

I really like diners... they're so comfortable. I also like fancy restaurants where you have to have been a life-long Gourmet subscriber just to decipher the menu, but they satisfy an entirely different drive than diners, don't they? You don't go to the former because you're hungry any more than you'd go to the latter because you want to experience culinary innovation.

Isn't it sweet? It quite small inside, but didn't feel crowded. It's all lovely perfect diner decor - stainless steel and Naugahyde and ceramic tiles.

The booths are the perfect size for two - I'd think four would be a bit tight.

The view is...

... but who goes to a diner for the view? The menu is good - all the basics plus a number of Greek dishes thrown in - and cheap. I had the chicken gyro and it was great! The chicken was tender and flavorful, the pita was fresh and chewy and toasted like naan. Scott had the mushroom Swiss burger and reported it was good - juicy, not greasy. The fries were hot and crisp. Not a lot of vegetarian options, but there was a veggie burger and lots of salads and sides you could mix and match. Overall I'd highly recommend the Arcadia for a casual meal. They're open every day from 6am to 4pm.

Dessert?

Jell-O du Jour. That cracks me up.

Turn around...

2009-06-27T10:02:00.000-07:00

Photo dump

2009-06-23T07:27:00.001-07:00

Hi! How are you?

Sloppy Joenuts

2009-06-16T10:29:00.000-07:00

The Big Idea: Vegetarian sloppy joes.

The Twist: Thinking it would be funny to fill the buns like jelly donuts and coming up with the name Sloppy Joenuts.

The supplies:

Buns
Sloppy Joe sauce
Veggie sausage
2 ounce syringe

Where are you supposed to get a giant syringe? Here.
Why did I have one on hand? Hahahahahaaa none of your business.

........

Step 1: Brown the veggie sausage.

Step 2: Add the joe juice.

Step 3: Take the syringe away from S. R. Wild who is using it as a slide whistle.

Step 4: Fill your slop deployment device.

Step 5: PRACTICE SQUIRTING!

Step 6: Use a knife to gently make a bun opening and create a slit inside the bun without cutting it open.

Step 7: Fill and enjoy!

Step 8: Try to work the phrase "sloppy joenuts" into every conversation you have for the next few days.

Things I want for my birthday

2009-06-06T13:54:00.000-07:00

Pink mace

Pink taser

Pink glock

Other pink pistols/handguns
Pink rimfire

Pink shotgun

Pink AR-15

Pink AK -47
Pink tank

Vermont Personals Critic

2009-06-01T09:01:00.000-07:00

I spend a lot more time looking at Craigslist than I should. I mostly browse the free, collectibles, garage sales, and general sale categories, but when I'm seriously procrastinating I'll go through numerous other listings including the personals. I find them equal parts terrifying and hilarious, especially the 'casual encounters' folks. I've wondered if anyone else out there appreciated our deranged local lonely hearts in same way I do, and today I found out that the answer to that question is 'yes' (I should be cleaning the apartment but am exploring numerous paths of distraction instead of doing it).

If you go to Vermont CL's men-seeking-women category and search for the word "critic" you'll find episodes 1-6 of some clever single fellow snarking on the best lines from the local (VT and NH) women-seeking-men ads. Here's a selection of his work:

“GOOD EVENING GENTLEMEN!!! I AM A SEXY!! BRUNETTE.!!!! I CAN HOST, OR DO A CAR DATE. I AM A CLEAN, SAFE, DRUG FREE PERSON. FOR DONATION AND CONTACT NUMBER, PLEASE E-MAIL ME.”
Donation? Car date? Something tells me if you ask this chick if she’s free for the evening, the answer would be “yes and no.”

“The personality that makes me unique is my wacky personality.”
And I have multiple personalities, so it’s a roll of the dice whether it’s the wacky one that comes out or the one that tells me to snap your head off like a dandelion and drink your spinal fluid.

“Im not quite not too sure on where to start…”
Not quite not too sure? Start by attempting to diagram that sentence.. You’ll need a protractor and a crowbar.

“I am looking for a real man key word there”
I wonder how many different ways that sentence could be interpreted if it had just a little bit of punctuation. “I am looking for a real man key. Word. There.” No, that can’t be it. “I am looking for a real man. Key word: ‘there’.” Nope, that doesn’t work either.

“No vegans please.” Okay, this just fascinates me. No vegans? I’m a die hard carnivore, and always will be, but why would anyone give a shit whether or not someone else eats meat, cheese and eggs? “You will eat this omelette, and by God, you will enjoy it!” My next personal ad will say “Carbon footprint must meet or exceed my own.”

"Iam looking for a n email male single frined.to get to know each other over the internet first and then hopefuly more after that ,iam a bbw,i smoke cigarttes .well if interesed email me ,have a wonderful day to to you ".
I’m writing this ad in my word processor, and my spell check just exploded. Anybody who responded to this ad, give me your address, and I’ll personally go to your house and shoot out your porch light.

"I am italian and french, please don't respond if you are just looking for sex "
Do these two facts have something to do with each other? “We franco-italianos, we don’t a-go for the one night a-stands. Merde.”

I know that a number of attractive, intelligent, single females in the area read my blog. I sincerely think you guys should consider emailing him! And then email me and tell me everything.

P.S. Unrelated:

Spielpalast 2009!

2009-05-25T09:16:00.000-07:00

This is the Fenway Park equivalent to the seats we had.

I have to admit, my review after the first half of the show was going to read like this:

The show may have been good, or it may have totally sucked. I really have no way of knowing because we were stuck in the shittiest seats in the house and couldn't see what the fuck was going on. I have never payed $45 to stare at the backs of strangers in the dark for two hours, and I'll be damned if I ever do it again. Why did we end up in the worst possible usher seats? Because when the Standing Room Only people were admitted, they were told to sit in the aisles, but very few of them did. They filled up the seats and nobody was monitoring this. So suckers like us who went to the trouble of buying tickets in advance got fucked.

So, um, anyway... yeah. I don't actually get angry very often. Anyone who knows me knows that while I spout off histrionically at times, I'm really a very even tempered person who is rarely genuinely pissed. But when I do become irate, I'm like the living embodiment of rancor. No obstacle of time, distance, or hardship will stop me from extracting a satisfying conclusion from the object of my wrath. Why was I so mad over a stupid show? Because for one thing, it's not just a stupid show. We look forward to Spielpalast ALL YEAR LONG. We get all dressed up - it's a real annual event for us. Also, I did spend $45 on the tickets. That is a lot of money for me... that's like three days worth of food.

Anyhoo, the very beautiful hostess Margueritte noted my radiating virulence. I guess it was hard to miss as I was one seat over from her trying to sit up on the back of my hard plastic chair and then stand by the exit in order to see the show. She offered to switch places with me, but that would have been little improvement and would have left my date, S.R. Wild, still in the dark.

Margeuritte is the delectible confection on the right. As lovely as she looks here, this photo does not do her justice. (P.S. I did not take any of the photos in the post. Cameras were not allowed)

At intermission we went outside to enjoy the evening air. I wanted to leave but my more acquiecent companion wanted to stay so I agreed. Suddenly Margueritte burst from the building, "There you are darlings!" She informed us breathlessly that she had found us new seats that someone had reserved by accident. We should be sure to come and find her when intermission was over and she would escort us to out new digs.

Wow. What a fucking profesional. My wrath dissipated immediately and floated benignly off into the sunset.

Do you know where we ended up?
Front
row
center.

The show was awesome. This is the third time I've seen Spielpalast and I swear this is the best performance I've seen. The choreography was anbitious and tight, the girls were gorgeous and engaging (as always), the content was funny and beautiful, the staging was dynamic and clear. Everything was just purrrrfect. I liked their old venue better, but the Black Box Theater was not too shabby except for the seating irritation. One thing I really enjoyed was the increased participation on the band. They were not only great on the musical side of things, they were hilarious contributors to the action on stage.

Thank you Spielpalast! Thank you Maxi! Thank you Margueritte!

If you haven't gone yet, you have two more chances: May 29th and 30th. Check out FlynnTix.org to buy your tickets now, because the shows have been selling out and fast.

Recital/Buffet

2009-05-16T06:52:00.000-07:00

I know. I've been such a bad, naughty, neglectful blogger.
I'm sorry.
It's partly because I've been making a huge effort to stay away from the computer... too much of it is not good for my mental or physical health. It's also partly because a lot has been going on, it's been a very eventful year so far. But it's mostly stuff too personal and sensitive for me to want to blog about.
I hope you are all doing good and enjoying the oncoming summer! Here are some skeletons playing violins, followed by random nonsense. I miss you!

I am obsessed with this photo because I don't know who this person is or why the photo is on my computer. Do you know? Is she selling that dress? It is not a dress I would've been interested in buying - botanical with ruffles? No. What is going on here???

Mother's Day!

2009-05-10T09:47:00.000-07:00

Happy Mother's Day to all you great moms out there!

And I hope all you bad moms feel guilty about all the undeserved reverence and attention you're reaping on this "holiday" or whatever it is. You suck. Shape up.

This is the gluten- and dairy-free strawberry trifle I made for my own dear old ma yesterday.
She's allergic to wheat gluten and dairy.
The trifle dish itself was a gift to her as well because she didn't have one.

Here's a drawing I made for the #1 Mama in the whole universe!
Sorry for the bad photo... my scanner isn't hooked up right now.
I love you Nandita!!!!!

Where can I trade in cats for a slow loris?

2009-04-20T13:52:00.000-07:00

Update featuring gross photos

2009-04-20T05:59:00.000-07:00

My healing is progressing very normally. Swallowing is still slightly painful, especially if I do something foolish like trying to eat whole wheat bread with no liquid to wash it down. One of the most annoying side effects of the operation is that my sense of taste is all peculiar. I can smell everything just fine, but when I put it in my mouth - bleah. Flavors are diminished and distorted in a most unpleasant way. I seem to do okay with foods that are strongly salty or umami flavored, but sweet, bitter, and sour are all fucked up. I don't seem to have any taste reception towards the back of my tongue at all. Everything has a metallic hint and aftertaste. Even textures seem strange and alien. It makes eating an unpleasant chore, but I have to force myself to do it because I've already lost quite a bit of weight.

I'm told this is supposed to go away in a couple of weeks.

You want to see gross photos now? Yay!

This is what my throat looked like a few days after the operation:

I found it somewhat difficult to take decent pictures of my own throat. You have to concentrate on keeping your tongue down and out of the way while operating the camera and not obscuring your light source. While in pain. I got that second one by setting the camera on macro and sticking the lens inside my mouth, bracing it with my teeth. Then I accidentally swallowed the camera which is why it took so long for me to post this update.

The whiteness is scabs. That's what waterlogged scabs look like. Giant scabs covering the back of my throat from the electrocautery. You know what's really, REALLY gross? Coughing up bits of waterlogged scab. They're like dense little boogercakes. Nasty, nasty business.

Those mean tonsils can't hurt us any more.

2009-04-10T15:37:00.000-07:00

They're out! Came out Tuesday evening. Everything went well - they think they got out all the infection and the tonsil tissue. I can't see a thing - it hurts to open my mouth. I can just make out two big white patches on the back of my throat where the cauterization took place.

Everything's still pretty swollen and painful. I had a bit of a set back Wednesday when I woke up vomiting and couldn't keep any meds down. The vomiting/heaving went on for awhile until Scott brought me to the emergency room for IV fluids, nausea med, and painkillers.

I had been sent home with Dilaudid, but didn't really feel like it did anything except upset my tummy, so I just stopped taking it. Today I finally got around to mentioning this to my nice helper man whereupon he became a mean scoldy man and said I shouldn't have been sitting here without any pain medication. He obtained for me some different stuff this afternoon and made me promise not to be so silly about asking for help in the future.

So now I'm just sort of sleepy. Trying hard to keep fluids flowing in depite the swallowing trouble. Watching many episodes of Red Dwarf. Still can't speak... it can be frustrating to have to scribble everything out, but for the most part I kind of like it. I can't wait to eat again! I dreamed about popcorn last night!

I'm having my tonsils removed tomorrow...

2009-04-06T18:02:00.000-07:00

... so why am I smiling? Because for the past two months I have been in a constant, exhausting cycle of throat infection, fever, fatigue, peritonsillar abscess, earache, antibiotics, short period of feeling better, repeat. At this point I am in the beginning stages of my third abscess and it's clear to everyone that the infection is in my lymph nodes and the tonsils need to come out ASAP. The original plan was to wait until all signs of infection were clear, but we keep missing the window of opportunity. I was seen by three otolaryngologists today and the consensus was "Fuck it. We gotta take 'em out". So, whizz, bang, boom they did up all the paperwork and now I'm in the schedule for surgery tomorrow afternoon.

Doing a tonsillectomy with an active infection is not the favorable circumstance, but since this infection has been so persistent they're afraid that they'll never get a "favorable" opportunity so we should just do it now and break this tedious infection cycle. With the abscess the operation is slightly more difficult, slightly higher chance of post-op infection, slightly higher chance that some tonsil tissue will be left behind, slightly higher risk of post-op bleeding. But only slightly on everything. It's such a simple operation that this wee complication is like... peanuts.

The operation will only take approximately 1.5 hours. It will be done with electrocauterization by this guy. He is the chief fancypants of the whole department.

Yes, I asked if I could keep my tonsils to put them in a jar but they said 'no'. They said they have to send them to pathology and that 'I wouldn't want them anyway'. FINE. Jerks. Actually they're not jerks at all. I've had very little experience with the ear, nose, and throat department before this and I'm very impressed. They're responsive, expeditious, great continuity of care, etcetera.

I have everything I need for a speedy recovery: pills, popsicles, sorbet, juice, cats, movies, and a very nice helper man. I'm so excited to just get it over with! I've been so tired and sick all the time for the past two months... enough already. 23 Skidoo!

Photo dump pour vous

2009-04-03T07:22:00.001-07:00

This is an extra big one to apologize for being away for so long!
The usual: some cute, some beautiful, some funny, much grotesque.

VOTE FOR ME (please?)

2009-04-01T14:02:00.000-07:00

If I win I get $100 worth of restaurant gift certificates!
Please? You don't have to register or give your email address or anything.
I'm poor! I never get to go out to eat like you swanky fat cats!
Vote! Vote! Vote!

Thank you!
I love you!
XXXOOOXXXLMNOP!

Call to arms

2009-03-25T14:03:00.000-07:00

Governor Jim Douglas has said that he will veto the same-sex marriage bill.
Please contact his office non-stop starting NOW.

Douglas website
Online Contact Form

USPS:	Governor Jim Douglas 109 State Street, Pavilion Montpelier, VT 05609-0101
Phone:	802 828-3333 (toll-free in VT only: 800 649-6825)
TTY:	800 649-6825
Fax:	802 828-3339

Gay marriage

2009-03-19T12:29:00.000-07:00

Edit: Hi! Sorry I've been absent for so long, I've just been really sick. A bacterial infection in my throat has spread to my lymph nodes and I'm going to have to have my tonsils out in a few weeks. I did want to pipe up about marriage rights in Vermont, though, as it's a very hot topic right now. Here I'm re-posting mostly some old entries because I'm not well enough to write much new right now. The dehumanizing attitude opponents take terrifies me - dehumanization is the first step in any prejudice, and prejudice leads not just to social and legal inequalities but individual acts of discrimination and violence. Any student of history or psychology knows this. It makes me so sad.

The problem I have with opponents of gay marriage is not so much that are anti-gay marriage - honestly, I am not blindly intolerant of viewpoints which oppose my own just so long as they are least thoughtful and reasoned. I even respect people who admit that they don't like gay marriage because homosexuality makes them uncomfortable - at least those people are being honest and not trussing up their discomfort in erudite pseudo-Biblical and/or pseudo-scientific bullshit. This is what most opponents do. Their entire platform is built on obtuse logical fallacies. Philosophy professors could use their websites and propaganda as an extra credit assignment for their students: how many classic abuses of logic can you find?

1. Argumentum ad antiquitatum: This is the invalid assertion that just because something is old or traditional it is what's best. Not based on any other supporting evidence, just old-ness. If this held true then women would still be unable to vote or own property.

2. The Bogus Dilemma: Fabrication of dire consequences. If you do _____, X, Y, and Z will happen! It's a pseudo-factual declaration that by choosing the contested action you are also accepting the dreadful X, Y, and Z as consequences. Even though the speaker cannot furnish any evidence that X, Y, and Z will ever exist outside of his or her fevered imagination.

3. Cum hoc ergo propter hoc and post hoc ergo propter hoc: These are two ways in which loads of people, whether through ignorance or malice, misuse statistical data. The former is the false conclusion that two phenomena are linked because they occur simultaneously, the second concludes a link because of sequence - both fail to mention any explanatory relationships between the phenomena other than that which the asshole advocates. Here's an example:

Wherever Buffy Summers goes, murder, violence, and mayhem spontaneously arise.
Obviously Buffy Summers causes murder, violence, and mayhem.
Therefore, if we eliminate Buffy Summers there will be no more murder, violence, and mayhem.

This is falsely concluding causality. We all know that Buffy is not the 'cause' of mayhem, she is reacting to it. But if you feared violence and mayhem and had no other information than that presented by the imaginary anti-Buffy person above, you might find their points persuasive.

There is a famous joke one encounters when studying correlational coefficients:

"Most people use statistics the way a drunk uses a lamp post -
for support rather than illumination."

If you know how to abuse statistics you can "prove" just about anything by falsely equating correlation with causation and extrapolating therewith to serve your agenda. Unfortunately most audiences don't know enough about statistics to demand context and follow-up when someone produces what appears to be an inarguable doozy.

4. I was once spammed by an anti-gay marriage group with this beautiful plurium interrogationum:

"I would like you to reflect for a moment on a simple truth which has not been much discussed relative to same-sex marriage. In truth, ALL same-sex parented families are defined by two primary characteristics - rejection, and deprivation:

1) By the rejection of one biological parent by the other (often by divorce, and often accompanied by rejection of the child by one biological parent).

2) By depriving the child of a mother or a father.

I am assuming that you support same-sex marriage. If so, then you would be supporting the legal enforcement, as a normative institution, of a family structure defined by rejection and child deprivation. We ask you to reflect on this readily observable fact, and ask yourself - do you truly believe that this would be in the best interest of children and society?"

Plurium interrogationum is a "loaded question". It's a question which is posed in such a way that the respondent must concede an embedded false presupposition in order to answer. In order to answer that last question there, you are agreeing to their original "simple truth" that "... ALL same-sex parented families are defined by two primary characteristics - rejection, and deprivation...". No family is inherently "defined" by a couple of simplistic characteristics. That makes no sense and forcing loaded questions from a false and malicious premise is dangerous, dishonest, and childish.

According to this particular false presupposition we should outlaw adoptions and single parent households, too.

Aside from the gross logical errors, they also conveniently ignore the separation of church and state by delving into Biblical territory. First of all, marriage as a relgious institution eqists separately from marriage as a legal bond. Your Bible must not shape laws! The founders of our country specifically forbade it! Second, the scant handful of mentions of homosexual behavior are all in the Old Testament along with a barrage of other nutso rules like:

Do not wear clothing woven of two kinds of material.
Do not cut the hair at the sides of your head or clip off the edges of your beard.
If anyone curses his father or mother, he must be put to death. He has cursed his father or his mother, and his blood will be on his own head.
If a man lies with a woman during her monthly period and has sexual relations with her, he has exposed the source of her flow, and she has also uncovered it. Both of them must be cut off from their people.
No one outside a priest’s family may eat the sacred offering, nor may the guest of a priest or his hired worker eat it. But if a priest buys a slave with money, or if a slave is born in his household, that slave may eat his food.
Your male and female slaves are to come from the nations around you; from them you may buy slaves. You may also buy some of the temporary residents living among you and members of their clans born in your country, and they will become your property. You can will them to your children as inherited property and can make them slaves for life, but you must not rule over your fellow Israelites ruthlessly.

All taken from Leviticus. If someone claims that it says homosexuality is a sin in the bible, ask them if they are adhering to all of the other rules, too. Like never wearing cotton/poly blend clothing. Like being allowed to own slaves and will them to your kids?? Here's another heartwarming Leviticus tale (24:10-23):

10 Now the son of an Israelite mother and an Egyptian father went out among the Israelites, and a fight broke out in the camp between him and an Israelite. 11 The son of the Israelite woman blasphemed the Name with a curse; so they brought him to Moses. (His mother’s name was Shelomith, the daughter of Dibri the Danite.) 12 They put him in custody until the will of the Lord should be made clear to them.

13 Then the Lord said to Moses: 14 “Take the blasphemer outside the camp. All those who heard him are to lay their hands on his head, and the entire assembly is to stone him. 15 Say to the Israelites: ‘If anyone curses his God, he will be held responsible; 16 anyone who blasphemes the name of the Lord must be put to death. The entire assembly must stone him. Whether an alien or native-born, when he blasphemes the Name, he must be put to death.

17 “ ‘If anyone takes the life of a human being, he must be put to death. 18 Anyone who takes the life of someone’s animal must make restitution—life for life. 19 If anyone injures his neighbor, whatever he has done must be done to him: 20 fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth. As he has injured the other, so he is to be injured. 21 Whoever kills an animal must make restitution, but whoever kills a man must be put to death. 22 You are to have the same law for the alien and the native-born. I am the Lord your God.’ ”

23 Then Moses spoke to the Israelites, and they took the blasphemer outside the camp and stoned him. The Israelites did as the Lord commanded Moses.

Isn't that sweet? They stoned someone to death for blasphemy. I take it the same Holy Rollers who condemn homosexuality on a Biblical basis still do all this stuff, right? It's a Bible, not a buffet table. You can't just pick the parts that serve your agenda and ignore the rest. Doing so makes you appear nothing but an ignorant bigot. If you discard the rest of the Old Testment rules as being antiquated and culutrally irrelevant, than the bans on homosexuality go along with them. You foolish, evil, zealots.

For those about to hurl...

2009-02-12T12:05:00.000-08:00

How to select the perfect vomit bowl.

1. Must be deep with steep sides. Otherwise the vomit will just be deflected all over the damn place.
This bowl would be unacceptable. Too shallow, too wide and sloping. You might as well just puke directly onto the floor because it would actually make LESS of a mess. This bowl will send rivulets and droplets flying everywhere (including in your own hair and all over your clothing).

2. Must be large. Especially if you don't have a kind helper monkey to empty your vomit regularly and it may have to hold more than one deposit. But helper monkeys are really best because if you're nauseous, the sight and smell of your own puke can easily be enough to send you into more fits of heaving.

No. You'd think this one would be a no-brainer but I can't tell you the number of times I've said, "I'm going to throw up" and someone, even ER nurses, will hand some dinky cereal bowl. Boy, they won't make that mistake twice.

3. Must be made of unbreakable material like stainless steel or plastic.
It might make you feel a little better to gaze at something more visually pleasing, but don't use anything breakable like porcelain or glass. It is likely to get knocked over, kicked, dropped, etc..

4. Along those same lines: nothing expensive. If you're anything like me, your vomit bowl will have to travel with you to the emergency room, sometimes via cab. You'll end up leaving it behind somewhere at least once. And exactly how well do you think this phone call goes: "Hi! Yeah, I was calling because I left my favorite barf bowl in one of your taxis (restrooms, exam rooms, whatever) and I wanted to see when would be a good time to come pick it up. It was blue and filled about a third of the way last time I saw it,".

5. Nice wide, solid base.
No.
Now this might look like a great choice at first blush, but bump it around a little first to make sure it doesn't have a small, rocky, tippy base footprint. For obvious reasons... our goal is containment here.

6. Lightweight with rim lip to hold onto.
That's a pretty cool bowl, but not for hurling. If you're perched on the edge of the bed all weak, shaky, possibly sweaty, sick, in pain, experiencing fluctuating consciousness, this fucker will slip right through your hands and onto the floor.

7. The rim of the bowl must be small enough to fit within the rim of your toilet. Why?!? Because this way you can slip your deposit from the bowl straight into the toilet water gracefully. If your have to drop it from above the seat-line you'll get crazy splashback all over the floor and your legs/feet and the toilet itself.

8. Have one dedicated barf bowl. After you toss your cookies in it, you probably won't want to serve salad out of it ever again.

9. Don't use flimsy plastic or a permeable material like wood. Stomach acid is strong and it will eat into the surfaces of whatever you put it in! Especially if it gets left overnight, God forbid.

10. So what is a good bowl?

Large ice buckets
Many popcorn bowls
The Stanley Cup

P.S. If you have pets you might want to have some type of covering device nearby. Unless your puke is pure bile and acid, most dogs and many cats will try to eat it.

What did you do last weekend?

2009-02-10T06:14:00.000-08:00

I don't actually want to know what you did last weekend, I just wanted an opening to tell you what I did last weekend.

I was lain up a peritonsillar abscess (AKA Quinsy)! It's like a giant boil in your throat. Here's a boil:

We've all heard of tonsillitis - most people get it as children whether it gets officially diagnosed as such or not. And many of you must have had your tonsils removed due to tonsillitis, though that standard was discarded for all except the most severe, advanced cases.

I had noticed a little sore throat starting last Monday, February 2. Then throughout the week it got steadily worse:

Dysphagia. Difficulty swallowing, especially without stuff going down my airpipe.

Change in voice. I sounded congested, even though I wasn't. It was all just inflammed tissue pushing up into my nasal cavity, smooshing everything, and my voice was soft, high, and scratchy.

Headache. Holy cow. I headache so bad on Friday I though I was going to weep blood. But I conquered it eventually.

Malaise. Yes, like when you have the flu. Lots of sleeping, resting, napping, dozing, siestas, etc..

Fever

Neck pain. The whole right side of my head hurt. It just fucking hurt. All along my jaw, inside my ear, and especially down through the myscles and tendons on the righ side. Like I'd been beaten with all up and down that side with a nail bat. It was painful to turn my head or do an effective pigeon impression.

Otalgia. That just means earache.

Odynophagia. Painful swallowing.

Difficulty breathing. The tissues in my throat and sinuses were so swollen that they were making my airway smaller and smaller and smaller.... It was scary.

Anyhoo, my primary care doctor called me last night and told me to go to the ED. Since she had called ahead for me, they were able to get in touch with the ENT on call and he came over to take a look. Oh my goodness, he said, "that's an abscess all right. We've got to drain that and put you on antibiotics right away". So he did this! He took out syringe after syringe of dark greenish-grey nasty fluid. It's unbelievable how much better I felt immediately after the drainage - I even declined all pain meds, just took some Advil when I got home. Today I feel even better.

The ENT says that if this ever happens again I will have to have my tonsils out.

Thank you S.R. Wild for attending to me so kindly!
He brought me to my appointment and to the pharmacy after, then checked on me regularly while I slept to make sure I had not stopped breathing. And since I was asleep 20 hours of the day, he busied himself by cleaning my apartment. Il est un marveilleuse ami.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

2009-02-01T08:13:00.000-08:00

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies features the original text of Jane Austen's beloved novel with all-new scenes of bone-crunching zombie action. As our story opens, a mysterious plague has fallen upon the quiet English village of Meryton—and the dead are returning to life! Feisty heroine Elizabeth Bennet is determined to wipe out the zombie menace, but she's soon distracted by the arrival of the haughty and arrogant Mr. Darcy. What ensues is a delightful comedy of manners with plenty of civilized sparring between the two young lovers—and even more violent sparring on the blood-soaked battlefield as Elizabeth wages war against hordes of flesh-eating undead. Complete with 20 illustrations in the style of C. E. Brock (the original illustrator of Pride and Prejudice), this insanely funny expanded edition will introduce Jane Austen's classic novel to new legions of fans.

Good night, Mimi Bear.

2009-01-28T07:59:00.000-08:00

Some of you may remember my hamster Demetria (AKA Mimi, Mimi Bear, Baby Bear, Hamsterina, Hamsterella, Hamsterific, Princess Ham Ham, etc.) or even have met her some time when over at the apartment. She was a queen among hamsters, truly. Her fur was so downy soft, like cashmere, and a unique rich brown/organge/black brindle color with a little white marbling on her belly. Her teeny paws were so pink and perfect. She was the most beautiful and adorable hamster I've ever seen, anywhere.

Look at her little pink tongue!

But even more beautiful was her disposition. I'm sure many of you are thinking this is retarded because hamsters don't have personalities - they just chew on shit and die. I'm not going to argue with you - just know that if you cannot appreciate a little thing like the individual character of a hamster, then there's probably a lot of other wonderful, subtle things you're missing out on in life, too.

Mimi never, ever bit anyone. Sometimes she would test a tiny little test nibble to see if you were made of food, but would never actually bite - just very gently touching with her teeth to see if your hand was made of wood. She was a joy to hold, just a warm little blobule of softness. She was like a creature from a Miyazaki film!

She loved coming out of her cage to visit. She would stand on top of her purple plastic igloo and reach her little arms up, asking to come out. She liked to be held and run around on my arms and lap, but also loved rolling around in her ball. I'd call her Demolition Mimi as she rolled around the house, crashing into walls, door, cats. She would actually follow me around while in her ball - contrary to what you'd think her evolutionary psychology would drive her to do.

Demetria was approximately two years old - I'm not exactly sure because she was already full grown when I got her. I have had her for two years. She was always a very healthy, robust girl. She was so big that we had to upgrade her Syrian hamster-sized supplies to a larger cage and Guinea Pig ball! She did have a bit of a booze problem for some time, as you can see in this video where she showed up lit to a tea party and tried to eat the table cloth.

I have never known such a good little hamster and I rather doubt I ever will.
Bye bye, Mimi Bear. I love you forever.

Edit: The last photo I will ever take of her...

Photo dump!

2009-01-27T07:02:00.000-08:00

I made you a mixed tape.

2009-01-20T12:08:00.000-08:00

Does anyone know this man?

2009-01-20T09:30:00.000-08:00

Because I'd really, really, really like to be his friend.

P.S. If you don't know him, do you know of any advertising awards I can be nominated for?
P.P.S. Produced by Maggot Operations, Inc.

What can you do to stop gay marriage?

2009-01-12T09:51:00.000-08:00

Phoho dump

2009-01-10T11:49:00.000-08:00

I mistyped "photo" in the title, but phoho is so much better. Faux Ho. Especially for a mostly silly, stupid dump like this one.

Kirsten Dunst vs. Kirsten Dunst

I left my heart in White River Junction

2009-01-05T09:54:00.000-08:00

Ever since I stayed in White River Junction last summer, I've been trying to convince people that they should visit the town. "Oh, that's that place I drive through on the way to real places." seems to be the stock reply when I mention WRJ. I try to explain why they should go, they feebly feign interest or openly resist. I remind them how I'm always right about everything, they roll their eyes. I despair.

Okay, that's not entirely true. Last Friday I had to travel down to Dartmouth-Hitchcock hospital in Lebanon, NH for medical stuff (AKA anal probing) for the third time since last summer. S.R. Wild kindly accompanied me for the whole day to keep me company and see the alleged wonders of WRJ. We went first to my two testing appointments (into which he was not allowed, despite his tenacious pleading) then hopped over to WRJ, a drive of maybe 5-10 minutes. There he almost vomited with excitement in the Main Street Museum, scored a dapper black cotton shirt with rare French cuffs at the awesome, awesome, awesome Revolution (vintage clothing boutique and espresso bar), and we had a really lovely dinner at an Asian restaurant walking distance from the museum, on the recommendation of it's friendly curator David Fairbanks Ford. As we meandered around the awe-inspiring wunderkammer discussing our plans to move into it, Mr. Ford paused in his bustling to and fro to direct our attention to wreath he is in the process of making entirely out of human hair. It took my breath away, like the most beautiful and elaborate mourning wreaths I'd seen in photos but never in person.

This picture makes it look gross. It's not.

Also, I managed to convince my beautiful and talented bosom friend Eva that the little junction perfectly embodies the spirit of her popular vlog, Stuck in Vermont. People who like living in metropolitan areas do not understand why anyone would want to live in Vermont. Harsh climate, nothing to do, nowhere to go, crushing boredom. It's all true, but the part they don't get is that to live contentedly here you have to be an appreciative connoisseur of contrasts. An embarrassment of riches leads to ennui, apathy, and spiritual death. Though we complain bitterly at times, we like the contrasts here. You can't experience the fullest joy of smelling the spring mud and seeing the first crocus shoots in April unless you are taking them in for the first time after six months of bleakest winter. We like being Stuck in Vermont. It sort of enforces a way of life that requires never taking anything for granted - not a friend, an art show, or a single day of our fleeting seasons. I know, I know. You're either nodding your head in understanding right now or shaking it in pity because you think I'm delusional.

What was I talking about? Oh, right. Eva. So Eva went down and covered the 7th annual Gory Daze parade last November.

Did you see that? That's so many things I love about Vermont rolled into five minutes of finely crafted, expertly edited footage. White River Junction is this totally overlooked town that people drive through on Interstate 89 on the way to "real" destinations like Boston. Hardly anyone is paying attention to them and they don't care! They just persevere, making their own fun and being quietly fucking brilliant. They're not doing any of this for press coverage or money or attention, it's out of the love of art, culture, and community.

Even though it isn't their primary motive, I'm really glad that WRJ is getting some recognition these days because there is a lot of poverty in the area. They have a lot of spunk, but spunk don't pay the bills. Unless you're a tall, handsome Nobel Prize winner making a spunk/sperm bank double entendre.

Boston Globe article
Budget Travel named WRJ one of it's Top Ten Coolest Small Towns!
Seven Days story on Revolution Vintage
Center for Cartoon Studies in The Christian Science Monitor...
... The Chicago Tribune...
... and The Washington Post.

Grosses bises, Rio Blanco!

Photo dump - Figure Study Edition

2009-01-03T07:52:00.000-08:00

Necrophilia Report

2008-12-30T08:52:00.000-08:00

I've been doing quite a lot of research into necrophilia recently. Why? Well, I'd like to blame it on S.R. Wild, but we all know that's a lie. No matter who else may ultimately end up involved, the root cause of such expeditions into perversion is invariably traced back to me.

Necrophilia (also known as necromania, necrolangia, or thanatophilia) is a recurrent, obsessive attraction to corpses, most often sexual in nature. The necrophiliac (or necrophile) may be so compelled by these thoughts that they are unable to suppress the urge to perform some type of sexual act on a corpse.

There is a useful umbrella term in psychiatry, "paraphilia", under which necrophilia is considered to fall. A paraphilia is "any powerful and persistent sexual interest other than sexual interest in copulatory or precopulatory behavior with phenotypically normal, consenting adult human partners." Isn't that a lovely sentence? So neat and precise. I wish I'd thought of it. It's from the Oxford Textbook of Psychopathology. Some paraphilias (those involving consenting adults) can be incorporated into a normal, healthy lifestyle, while others are illegal and/or culturally reviled for good reason. Examples of some common paraphilias inculde:
- Exhibitionism
- Frotteurism (an extension of exhibitionism in which the individual is compelled to touch or rub up against an unconsenting stranger in order to achieve sexual fulfillment. It typically happens in crowded settings such as a subway station where the assailant can quickly get away, disappearing in the throng)
- Pedophilia
- Masochism
- Sadism
- Transvestitism
- Voyeurism
- Fetishism

To be honest, I'm cool with most paraphilias. My reaction tends not to be "eew, weird!", but rather, "wow! Interesting...". However, anything involving a non-consenting party is NOT cool. Not remotely. You can only get off watching 2 girls 1 cup? Fine, God bless ya. You can only get off while diddling a little kid? I hope that kid's dad tracks you down and cuts your junk off with a rusty hacksaw.

"Fetish" has become one of the most colloquially misused psychology words I can think of. People use it emphasize how very much they like something -

Them: "I have a total Ugg fetish.".
Me: Seriously? You're sexually aroused by Uggs?
Them: "What? No! What's wrong with you?"
Me: So you have a non-sexual but clearly abnormal preoccupation with Uggs that interferes with your life?
Them: "Get away from me."
Me: No, it's cool. I'm not here to judge! Besides, rule 34, you know?
Them: (fleeing)

Fetishism is a type of paraphilia. It is the eroticisation of objects or materials not considered inherently or conventionally sexual in nature. Someone with a fetish has recurrent sexual thoughts or urges revolving around a particular object or type of object. Some of the more common ones are shoes, specific types of clothing, rubber, and leather. Many non-genital human body parts are commonly said to be fetishized (such as the foot or breasts) but for clarity's sake I prefer to refer to them by the more accurate subcategoric term of partialism, which serves to differentiate between animate and inanimate objects of stimulation.

All of that confusion is one of the reasons why necrophilia is so interesting to me. A human corpse - is it an incapacitated person or an inanimate object? Is it both? Is it fetish? Paraphilia? Rape? How does the necrophiliac view it?

The answer to that question is that it depends on the necrophiliac. They are first divided by the level of action to which their urges drive them.

1. Necrophilic fantasy. Persistent thoughts and fantasies, but no action is ever taken toward obtaining an actual corpse.
2. Standard necrophilia. The use of already dead corpses to achieve sexual gratification.
3. Necrophilic homicide (necrosadism). The individual commits murder to produce a corpse for subsequent sexual violation.

As you might imagine, necrophilic homicide is the most rare of the three primary types. The pathology of someone who "kills for company" is completely different from that of a standard or "true" necrophile. A homicidal necrophile is a sexual sadist deriving pleasure from absolute power and control, whereas most true necrophiles have other motives which I'll get to presently. #1 is also considered "rare", but honestly, how could researchers accurately guage the prevelance of necrophilic fantasy in the general public? A person who is aroused by the sight of the dead but never actually comes into physical contact with them is called a "platonic necrophilisist".

In 1989 psychiatrists Phillip Resnik and Jonathan Rosman published what is the only substantive modern analytical work regarding necrophilia in The Bulletin of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law. In it they broke down recorded cases of necrophilic activity by every concievable point of distiction. The overall conclusions they developed regarding the psychology and motives of necrophiles are as follows:

The necrophile develops poor self-esteem, perhaps due in part to a significant loss;
(a) He/she is very fearful of rejection by women/men and he/she desires a sexual partner who is incapable of rejecting him/her; and/or
(b) He/she is fearful of the dead, and transforms his/her fear — by means of reaction formation — into a desire.
He/she develops an exciting fantasy of sex with a corpse, sometimes after exposure to a corpse.

The authors also reported that, of their sample of 'necrophiliacs,':

68 percent were motivated by a desire for an unresisting and unrejecting partner;
21 percent by a want for reunion with a lost partner;
15 percent by sexual attraction to dead people;
15 percent by a desire for comfort or to overcome feelings of isolation; and
11 percent by a desire to remedy low self-esteem by expressing power over a corpse.

So that explains a lot. One question I had was whether or not there are female necrophiliacs, seeing as how there would appear to be some anatomical barriers to engaging in necrophilic activity. The answer is yes, there are. Pump apparatuses are employed.

An interesting legal side is that there are no federal laws specifically prohibiting sex with a corpse! Some states have laws in place, but most do not. This was brought to national attention last summer when three young men in Wisconsin dug up some poor girl and tried to have a necro gang bang, but all they could be charged with was misdemeanor attempted theft. There is no law in Vermont forbidding sexual contact or intercourse with dead people.

Here are some of the more famous necrophilia cases in modern history:
Ed Gein
Guido Henckel von Donnersmarck
Carl Tanzler (AKA Count Carl von Cosel)
Nico Claux
Karen Greenlee
Leilah Wendell

Mewwy Chwismas!

2008-12-21T09:56:00.000-08:00

This post is dedicated to Doctor Odd.

The Contrarian

2008-12-21T08:18:00.000-08:00

Casey wrote some things, and then some other guys did as well write things also. And then it moved here. It's politics and music and transhumanism and something about legislation banning pirates from stealing record players. Or maybe they want the pirates to steal the record players. I forget.

P.S. Do not give him your email address. He'll promise to send nude photos of his wife but then you get nothing but promotional bullshit.

Look, all you're getting is photo dumps for awhile.

2008-12-14T09:52:00.000-08:00

Sorry. There's just been a bunch of crap going on.

This is what I want Evan to grow up to be like.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVAN!

2008-12-09T14:11:00.000-08:00

Some of you may know that I dislike babies and children in general.
What you may not know is that there is one glaring and absolute exception.
There is one baby out there for whom I would do ANYTHING.
If ever in your life you run across a person named Evan Ghazarian, you'd better treat him with kindness because if you don't I will rip off your arm and beat you to death with it.

Happy birthday Evanito!
You are my #1 Super Guy, 100% forever!

(oh god not another) Photo dump!

2008-12-03T11:03:00.000-08:00

American Lung/Junk Association of Vermont

2008-11-28T18:37:00.000-08:00

Poor Mr. W

2008-11-23T15:51:00.000-08:00

Mixed Buffet

2008-11-23T14:41:00.001-08:00

Wee photo dump

2008-11-17T15:31:00.000-08:00

P.S. It's unanimous: Five Corners Antiques is the most awesomest place ever and you should do all of your Christmas shopping there.

I don't know art, but I know Evita.

2008-11-15T19:05:00.000-08:00

There is a store in Essex Junction called Five Corners Antiques that I just love. There is a ton of stuff there - from fine china, jewelry, and beautiful pieces of furniture to my favorite commodites: weird scary mystery objects, uber-kitsch, and disturbing taxidermy. The wondrous variety is brought about by the diversity of the 45 sellers who have booths there. There is one booth where I know I will always find rusty old farming tools that look like they came from the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre set. Another that usually has some kind of preserved animal parts. But the best fun is in finding that puzzling gem of grostequery amongst all of the nice, pleasant stuff. How did it get there? What's the story?

It is the best place in the world.

Anyhoo, I made a whole about it last summer, here. I could not resist making the suggestion that if anyone just happened to be looking for a gift for me, I had a very desirable candidate. A very large, spooky painting called (according to a little brass tag at the bottom of the image) "Evita". If I have to explain to you why she is so compellingly fantastic, then you will never understand.

Someone who did understand was my friend Leda who works at the Funeral Consumers Alliance. I volunteer there once a week. Apparently they were looking for something they could do as a gesture of thanks for my meager assistance and Evita manifested. When she was first revealed to me my first and only thought was, "NO. FUCKING. WAY." I felt undeserving, unworthy. But they insisted that I take her. Now she hangs in our living room, waiting for an Italian horror film to take place around her. My dad finally helped me put her up last Friday (she is quite heavy). Best gift ever.

She sits, so beautiful and confident, staring in a uniquely coy yet menacing manner.

Do you like apples?

Some people

2008-11-13T07:17:00.000-08:00

Some people should really answer their damn emails.

Hint: The people's name starts with M and ends with olly.

Happy pic dump

2008-11-07T15:18:00.001-08:00

Aw, man...

2008-11-02T13:21:00.000-08:00

If only I'd found this sooner:

"Product Description

I think constricting anus 100 times and denting navel 100 times in succession everyday is effective to good-bye depression and take back youth. You can do so at a boring meeting or in a subway. I have known 70-year-old man who has practiced it for 20 years. As a result, he has good complexion and has grown 20 years younger. His eyes sparkle. He is full of vigor, happiness and joy. He has neither complained nor born a grudge under any circumstance. Furthermore, he can make love three times in succession without drawing out.

In addition, he also can have burned a strong beautiful fire within his abdomen. It can burn out the dirty stickiness of his body, release his immaterial fiber or third attention which has been confined to his stickiness. Then, he can shoot out his immaterial fiber or third attention to an object, concentrate on it and attain happy lucky feeling through the success of concentration.

If you don't know concentration which gives you peculiar pleasure, your life looks like a hell."

Hello! Transparent blogging.

2008-11-02T06:30:00.000-08:00

"Nervous breakdown" is not a clinical term. Generally it is considered an acute attack of mental illness brought on by external stressors.

So guess what I had? Yep, I snapped. This year has been really difficult. Because of a surgery in February from which I was supposed to be fully recovered in 4-6 weeks I went from working full time and going to grad school to doing absolutely nothing. In addition to managing my lupus I now have another chronic, incurable condition on top of that. Twice the meds, twice the MDs, twice the symptoms, twice the aggravation. Chris is in England. I do not have enough money to live on. Very suck.

Anyhoo, about three weeks ago I had started feeling the effects of seasonal depression begin to creep into my body. There is a tension and weight in my stomach and chest, I begin to lose interest in things I enjoy, my appetite tapers off, I begin having trouble sleeping, concentrating, making decisions. Every year around this time my psychiatrist adjusts my meds to compensate fo the effect of diminishing light levels and for the past couple of years this has been adequate.

But not this year. The weekend before I was to see my psychiatrist for my annual med shift I had a major breakdown. I'd been sort of holding on by a few raggedy threads, but then a series of bad, discouraging things happened and the tensile strength of those threads just failed and I found that I had slipped suddenly sideways into a universe of intolerable emotional pain.

People who have experienced clinical depression will know exactly what this feels like, but those who have not... well, I hope you never know. Unless I hate you. It's like the most horrific pain you've ever experienced - childbirth, broken leg, burst appendix, etc. - except it is in your brain, your emotions. The word "depression" is misleading because you think the person is experiencing just sadness, but it is so SO much more. You do feel sadness, the most inky, black, poisonous sadness you can image that saturates every cell of your body. But you feel also desperation, senseless guilt, panic, shame, self-loathing, and a complete absence of hope.

The physical and psychomotor sensations are terrible as well. Have you ever had restless legs? Where your legs feel kinds of itchy/tickley/twitchy? Well imagine that magnified by 50 and all over your whole body. It feels like there is electrical current coursing through your muscles, making it impossible to relax or even hold still. You become extremely weak - I exercise every day so I'm in decent shape, but I was too weak to even take out the garbage. My hands shook so badly that I had trouble dialing the phone - your muscles get all quivery as if you've just tried to complete a triathalon. Thoughts are slowed, distorted. It's difficult to think, speak, react, complete simple tasks. Can't eat. Can't drink. Can't sleep.

The distorted thinking is perhaps the worst. Your brain tries to murder you. It tells you that you are worthless, that you are a burden to everyone - a parasite. That the people who "love" you do so only out of habit, obligation, genetic imperative. You're a failure, a loser, unlovable. Everyone would be better off if you were just... gone. Then you wouldn't be a burden to them any longer AND you wouldn't have to experience the overwhelming emotional pain and intolerable physical sensations by which you're being relentlessly consumed.

So anyway, appropriate intervention has been taken. Nothing bad happened. I was in the emergency room at one point but avoided being admitted to psych, thank goodness. I hear Fletcher Allen's psych unit is a horrible place to be. I am very fortunate to have very caring and dedicated doctors who swept in and managed me. Meds are adjusted and I'm thinking clearly and feeling normal again.

Underlying issues remain:

- my health is still complicated

- I will probably have to have more surgery next year

- I am so, so, so deeply sick of sitting around the apartment with nothing to do every damn day. I know this sounds like heaven to some people but it is making me insane.

- Chris is still gone

- Money is still fucked

- Nobody can figure out how I can ever go back to school

But now that I've had a major breakdown there are a bunch of people paying more attention to my mental health and not just the physical ailments. You can't just go from being a busy, productive human to a directionless blob without some mental fallout. You know? I had been coping very well, but I think a bunch of things sort of snuck up on me and then the seasonal depression provided an opening through which they poured in and drowned me.

P.S. I do appreciate any ideas anyone might have for improving my circumstances, but please do not comment with vague suggestions about "working from home" or applying for public aid or whatever. All employment options have been explored and I am ineligible for food stamps and fuel assistance. Unless you have a specific agency or opportunity in mind, please don't bother.

GODDAMMIT

2008-10-19T16:50:00.000-07:00

You know what it's like when you're having a really, spectacularly bad day, and you go to bed and think, "Finally! That horrible day is over,". Then you wake up the next morning expecting to have a normal day because surely all of your allotted bad luck was spent the previous day. And then you cannot fucking believe the cosmic unfairness when you go on to have YET ANOTHER SPECTACULARLY BAD DAY?

My past week has been like this. I just keep getting extra heaping helpings of bad, bad, bad fortune. Medical, emotional, financial. All fucked. I hope this is causing some nice, deserving person to get extra good luck because I would hate to think my extra bad luck is all for naught.

I needed to look at funny things today. Maybe you do, too.

So very tired.

2008-10-14T21:20:00.000-07:00

The Year of Very Bad Things continues to get more badderer.
I can't wait to see what will go wrong next!
I had my flu shot yesterday and am achy, fatigued, and feverish today because of it.
Right before I was going to settle in for my bedtime movie tonight, Victor started acting weird(er than usual) so I had to take him to the 24 hour emergency vet. $95 later he seems to be perfectly fine. I love Victor. It was very stressful. Tomorrow I have to get up wicked early to coordinate a visit to my specialist Dartmouth-Hitchcock hospital in New Hampshire on Thursday that I just found out about from my answering machine like five hours ago.

My life is very good in a lot of ways, and I have a lot to be grateful for. But right now I am tired and sick and cranky. Please feel sorry for me and say pleasant, encouraging things. Also send money and presents and gift certificates to the goddamned emergency vet.

There is cat puke on my bed. This is no fun.

Casket shopping

2008-10-09T06:24:00.000-07:00

Boring ass coffin

As they wisely point out at Bert and Bud's Vintage Coffins,
"You only get one shot at a last impression".
I think that with these words in mind you should really start shopping for your funeral casket now in order to get the best price on the coffin of your dreams. If you wait, it could be too late! And someone will pick out for you the boring classic seen above or, heaven forbid, a plain pine box like this one below. All of your funeral guests will leave saying, "Yawn! I can tell by the boringness of that coffin that s/he was a dud about whom nobody really cared." You don't want that to happen, do you?

For starters you could go GOLD like your beloved Cadillac Escalade.

Or pink! It's not just for infant caskets anymore. There are many classy pink adult options.

Are you a Big, Fat, Sinner? These models will surely get you shoehorned into heaven.

But why express your love of The Lord when you could use your coffin as a conversation piece? Get everyone talking about your love of NASCAR:

Or New York City...
... your cell phone...

... your tractor...

...Monet and/or waterlilies...
... PBR...
...or the University of Kentucky.There are hippie coffins, too. This is the Ecopod, made of recycled paper and silk - 100% biodegradable.
Or you can be buried in a basket-casket (also biodegradable).

A sleek little pod for you modern design fanatics.
There's something for everyone, even you jokesters.

If you don't see anything you like online, you can get these wacky carpenters in Ghana to make just about anything.

The population is aging!
Buy now! Beat the rush!

Best zombie comic EVER

2008-10-07T20:16:00.000-07:00

Three most recent drawings

2008-10-06T09:40:00.000-07:00

Photos of my sketchbook, because I told Dan I would.

Please don't be mean. I know I'm not an artist. As you can indubitably tell, I don't even use straight edges or anything. It's just for fun.

Vintage Weird Buffet

2008-10-02T18:04:00.001-07:00

Beeeeeansss, precioussssssssss.....

"G'night sweetie. Here's your dolly and papa's absolutely safe revolver."

Mmmm... juicy, flame-broiled love.

"Yes, I know he's dead but he's still MINE and I don't want anyone else sitting on him."

Happy Mustard Gas Day!

Children in rubber suits and an apron! Why?!??

I love that one sullen kid standing in the middle.

Begging your pardon

2008-09-29T16:17:00.000-07:00

I dropped Chris off at the airport two hours ago. He should be in the air to Dulles right now, then on to Heathrow after an hour layover.
Then a bus to Oxford - his home for the next ten months.
I am so sad. He is so sad. We both cried and cried and cried today.
Anyway, please do not be offended if I don't return your email or phone call in a timely manner this week. My mind screamed and wailed as I was driving away from the airport and realized I had just seen and touched him for the last time until December. It's inconceivable. I feel empty like I accidentally cut my heart out of my chest and left it on the airport sidewalk.

I have to go hide under the bed for a little while. This sucks.

Photos I've saved from Riot Clit Shave

2008-09-26T07:59:00.000-07:00

I want to hang out with this guy.

Also with her. At the same time.

Life without Siamese is an empty void.

Maybe me and naked dirty cigar guy and sword lady can hang out here!

He is invited to Fort Awesome, too.

Are they arguing ABOUT the dead? Did he get them lost? Did she spend too much at the gift shop?

(Oh, this is so obvious but I can't resist saying it anyway) MONKEYSHIIIIIIIINES!

She is emphatically not invited to Fort Awesome.

This is for Magister Paradise.

And they all lived happily ever after.