we don't love you anymore, and that's why we don't write.
not really. actually, everyone is at fucking fire island except for my sorry ass. and i don't care, because i hate to travel to places like that.
also, i randomly wish to observe that i miss the أَذَان (ađān) (call of the مؤذن muwwađin "muezzin"). this is random, especially since they can come quite early in the morning. i also randomly miss the songs from shabbat services from when i worked at hillel. on fridays, i find myself humming them as sundown approaches even though it's been a loooong time since i was in a hillel - say, eight years.
i've been sucked into the zine project called quench. issue two should be out soon.
so i'm not at fucking fire island like ems 1-2, nor am i gallivanting round hawai'i like that goddamn henry; but i am happy. girls make me happy, and there are now many of them in my life.
but i'm still a firebrand. i'm still angry about a lot of things, and i'll be sure to spill my venom on this website soon enough.
and share great links as well.
i'm just re-upping right now: recharge, recover - and reread transmetropolitan. spider jerusalem is my hero, and so is warren ellis.
i'm cleaning the firing chamber of my attack womb. look out.
4 comments:
thanks for holding down the fort. and what do you mean, you hate to travel to 'places like that?' fire island is lovely. all you have to do is drive, park, and ride a ferry.
there's a decapitated doll head garden on the island of which i have photos.
AHHHHH! DRIVING! PARKING! TAKING A FERRY! AHHHHH!
those are, in fact, part of the things i hate.
also, i hate people (too many of them!), crowds (see people re: too many, plus in one place), groups, babies (too tasty), men (too ass-pinchy), new yorkers (i'm a rhode islander, it's genetic), anti-weasel legislation, the notion of virginity, the state of connecticut (particularly old lyme - you bastards!), the state of new hampster, actual hampsters, and mexican oompa-loompa music. (actually, if there are tubas involved, i prolly hate what you play.)
THAT IS ALL.
ooh, and i want to post the creepy decapitated doll head garden photos. goody goody goody! share!
uh, people? the beauty of fire island is that you can rent a house, sit with your friends and not have to deal with another person (except your landlord, who is a lovely tiny little sixty year old italian lesbian and her generous wife) for the entire week. that's why i go there. ignore the idiotic documentaries you see on television about it being a gay club mecca. it is a lie and the most ridiculous thing i've ever heard.
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