Goo. I had some minor oral surgery last week and I've been whining about it ever since. Basically that tissue that connects my bottom lip to my gums was too short, so they fixed it. However, I hadn't anticipated that I wouldn't be able to eat anything but soups and oatmeal, and swishing with the same prescription-strength mouthwash that people with gingivitis use. Awesome.
I've also been unable to smile correctly, therefore rendering me equally as helpless when laughing. I just hold my chin and lips, hoping I don't pop the stitches.
I will say this once and I will never say it again: When I see feet in the dashboard of a car, I feel nauseated. I don't have an anti-foot fetish, but the way the toes poke out from the windshield of a car makes me want to throw up in my own hand and then throw it at strangers.
I don't like melons. Watermelons, cantaloupes, honeydew -- no, thanks. I always associate melons with summer, something I also detest. So when I'm forced to eat the pulpy, syrupy bullshit imprisoned in its deceptive rind, I can't help but imagine I'm eating fruit pulp infused with sweat. Melons are sweat fruit to me.
I hope this won't affect our relationship, because I treasure our friendship.
Enjoy your summer. I'll be crawling further into my fair-skinned-people cave. See you in the fall or the nearest patch of shade.
As much as I hate/despise/draw blood at the sight of "invisible theatre" or whatever you want to call it, I still love a flash mob. A flash mob is contained, brief, and doesn't really subject an innocent bystander to potential trauma; they just have to watch it or walk away. I mean, unless you call a group of people suddenly dancing to "Do Re Mi" in the Central Station of Antwerp traumatic. Then there's my all-time favorite. The Hammer Time Mob Dance:
For more of that related bullshit, check out Improv Everywhere's YouTube channel where they literally just fuck with people's days. Like "Best Gig Ever." They found a random band from out of town, grouped 30 to 40 members of Improv Everywhere, memorized the band's music, made homemade T-shirts with the band's name on it, conjured too much enthusiasm and tricked the band into thinking they actually knew who they were and gave a shit. After a year or two, the band got over it, but it kinda crushed their souls for quite a while.
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So, Friday begins the marathon traveling. This weekend I'll be bumming around Manhattan. That following Wednesday, it's off to London, to hopefully see The Black Atlantic, Keb Darge, and ride around in a paddle boat with Janine. I'm not going just for that, I'm just hittin' that G-spot of awesome coincidences, I guess. If you happen to be in either of these areas and would like a hug, a high-five, a beverage, or a culinary adventure, you know what's to doin'. Don't be shy. You guys are so shy.
Begin ignoring my texts, phone calls, and Facebook messages in 3 ... 2 ...
I've procured my ticket to New York in June for the World Science Festival and catching up with friends that can bear my presence for small periods of time. If you're in the area June 4th-6th and you've got some extra cash-cash, let me know. Here's a short list of the things happening at the Fest that weekend that I would love to attend:
Or I may just eat too much Indian food, drink too much, pass out while somehow still sitting on a stool, and then throw up in the water closet where we're staying. Over and over again.
I can't wait.
Oh, I've also been called for jury duty the week after I get back from London.
1. I sleep almost completely upright. Like the Elephant Man.
2. I take Mucinex for about three days in a row. You're not supposed to exceed 2 doses in a 24-hour period. I say, only quitters don't exceed the 24-hour dose period. (Side effects include insomnia, dizziness and hyperactivity. Check it.)
3. I turn into Mr. Hyde.
4. I don't sleep.
I've been getting sick 3-5 times a year since I was in elementary school. I've always grown immune to whatever wussy allergy meds I've been prescribed, so I've just gone rogue and miserable. So these days it's just whining, tissues, Emergen-C, and Mucinex MAX. STRENGTH.
Have you guys tried these new pretzel M&Ms? Seriously, pretzels INSIDE of M&Ms?
Also, if you could handle "Anti-Christ," you enjoyed "Delicatessen," and appreciated "You, the Living," you may be equally appalled/enthralled with Hungary's "Taxadermia." A true union of the grotesque and the divine.
I still can't stop watching this one. Is it weird that I wish I could be Julian Casablancas, minus the feathers-in-the-hair thing? Enjoy the "pixel-count-is-too-big-so-the-video's-all-cut-off" situation.
