Late Night Chalk Rants

This is the fun we have with the chalkboard of eternal anal-retentivism.

1) Those clouds look ominous. They must be up to something....



2) This picture, the less insane of the two, was actually fueled by booze. I suppose this says something about our mental states, but I'm not sure I want to get into that.
Translation: Batman's Head says "Where are the drugs going?" Another detached speech bubble says "I swear!" then Batman's Head says "Swear to me!". Then I put a caption underneath that says "The voice of cartoon Christian Bale is not gruff and/or douchebaggish enough. Try again."


3) This is the latest installment to the collection, gathered last night after watching "Band of Brothers." I'm not sure why Micah does it, but he gets some kind of sadistic joy out of pissing Dustin off. Dustin kept wanting to watch "Tom Goes To the Mayor" (I still have no idea what that movie's even about). He didn't get his way, as always, and pouted and left for bed. After we were done with the episodes of D-Day goodness, Micah took off with the DVD and put it somewhere in the kitchen. FJ then realized that he would probably die when morning came, so Micah left a note instead of putting the movie back.
Crappy camera translation: "I, Micah French, of sound mind and body, have taken it upon myself to hide your precious Tom Goes To The Mayor DVD. IVE done this to save the countless children of the world." Dammit, why does the man keep picking up my bad habits?

My Niche: Verbal Interruption

My graffiti is becoming bolder as time goes on. No one is safe from my questions when statements are posted. I don't understand why people decide to post statements, maybe it makes them feel clever. I take their words and twist them into something deliciously sinister.

Photo # 1: An honest question gone horribly wrong.



Photo # 2: An answer to a puzzle posed on paper long since forgotten. The people who originally wrote this out of frustration have moved on with their lives. Or died, I'm not sure.


Photo # 3: This is the chalkboard that will receive much mistreatment in future posts, as it is in the apartment of two friends, one of whom is kind of anal retentive and uses the board for his passive aggressive domestic needs. It's just too much fun. The cock was the boyfriend's contribution. The embellishments and the balls were mine.

Couldn't Resist

To get the full effect of how epic this picture is, you'll have to click on it, as my devious contribution got kind of blurry in the uploading process (translate of the pixelation "Opera: For those of us who like Italian Breasts".)

I would like to believe that our set designer est noot creesy, but I just saw her wander past ushers into the audience.

Fun With Paper

I guess these need some explanation. Although I have no clue why. 1) Happy accident, I think someone was just throwing all that paper away, and it grew arms and legs and tried to attack people.

.

And then the ice cream tried to get in on the act.


2) My contribution to the wasteland of humanity. I haven't checked, but I think it's still posted behind that damn trash can.

Did you see this coming?

The Boyfriend Does it On the Tiles

Earth Hour

I haven't really really gotten into a single cause for quite some time, but this one caught my interest. It's called the Global Earth Hour, and it's kind of a vote for the Earth, versus global warming, and the finds will be presented to the Global Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen 2009. All a person has to do is turn off their lights for an hour tonight. That's all. Easy, huh. And maybe tell someone about it, like I'm doing now, although it's a lesson in futility for me, as no one reads my site. But, still I will do my part.

Here is the website: http://www.earthhour.org/about/

Volcano At Rest

Whatever Is Eloquent

A black bandanna is all that protects the heart on my sleeve from the outside world. I could not hope for the lights on the dancefloor to sparkle in my eyes. You heal me with your feathered caresses. You ask me where I've been all your life? I've been here the entire time, a pearl among the stones. And I get to sleep tonight with your scent lingering in the sheets, my senses holding my longing heart hostage until you grace me with the presence once again.

Bath Tile Brain Cramp, Numero Uno

The Young And The People Who Watch Soap Operas

I tend to pride myself on being a free-thinker, someone who goes against the grain. Fads don't appeal to me, my personal sociological currencies are completely different from most people (theirs: money, sexual appeal, fame. mine: art, knowledge, the soul, storytelling abilities, talents). And I tend to surround myself with friends who are not in the mainstream, even if they are not particularly free-thinking. So, when I come into contact with people on the grid, (must I explain the grid?) on a personal level, it's usually a shock to my system, because I'm not used to dealing with conformists under the age of 40. Examples:

1) Last Thursday: it was a day of macabre celebration, the year anniversary of Assassins being canceled. My friends and I were in the fourth floor lobby of Caraway, preparing to make crepes and settle in to watch the DVD recording of the show. At first there was a bible study going on, so we were quiet and respectful, and waited for them to break up so that we could commandeer the television and be as loud as we wanted. What we didn't bargain for was Hall Government pulling rank and invading the lobby, sending a representative to tell Ian and I that they needed the television free because they were going to watch a video. We figured this had to be something important, so we relented. We waited for them to finish, while taking futile attempts to listen to the first song of the show. These so-called elected leaders of the dorm were loud, they were gossipy, none of the points that were made during the meeting really had any merit to anyone in the dorm except them, and then came the kicker. We waited for half an hour, in expectation, for this sacred video of instruction or leadership to be produced and watched in glorious awe. It was a fucking exercise video. Which no one in the group seemed to be taking seriously, and everyone kind of just half-assed, just for the sake of joining in. Seriously? Seriously! I watched the proceedings carefully, as a biologist would wander into the woods and watch the behavior of a herd of wildebeests. I noticed my friend Ian was watching also, with the same look of disgust as mine, so I leaned in and said something along the lines of "Um... you know, this isn't real leadership. People who are real leaders would not be at this meeting. They would boycott it, or start a riot. They would have more important things to do than cackle and shake their asses." When they finally left, I felt a relief I hadn't felt in quite some time.

2) This past Sunday night/Monday morning: Micah and I were hanging out in my bedroom, in my apartment. My roommates and their friends were trashed in the living room. Loud hiphop and country music, lots of yelling and running around. Lots of drama. There usually shouldn't be anything wrong with this, it's what people do when they drink. Not really, intelligent people seem to scream less and not throw girls into a shower for shits and giggles. But, this is me. The same feeling of watching wildebeests came back with a vengeance. And Micah seemed more agitated than I was. Why? Because we've both seen our share of parties. Not everyone acts that ridiculously. *sigh*

Seductress in Training.

I completely forgot this blog existed. I made up something about "seductress in training" about two years ago, posted, then walked away. This was back in the days when I, well, actually was a seductress in training. Then I got an email from some company wanting to know if I they could help me make money from this blog. Odd. Ten people in the past week have traveled to this site, in the hopes that they would find some wanton, moaning sex goddess. Well, you have found her. But she's not what you expect. I don't sell my sexuality, I own it. I am the embodiment of the sensual underbelly. I had an epiphany last night while in bed with my love interest. We had spent hours taunting each other with sex, but holding back. Neither one of us could let go because of something I had said a few days before, about being careful with sex because it was dangerous and the relationship we were building might become nothing more, being that we are both very passionate, sexual, individuals. But, in the midst of finally being naked beneath him, I realized that the problem isn't the sex, no matter how amazing it is. It's about my attitude towards it. I have been learning sex as the seductress, learning tricks to drive mere mortal men insane with lust. But I was detached from the actual experience. Now, I am experiencing sex from somewhere completely different. This time as a lover, as the beautiful, almost spiritual combining of flesh that I am partaking in, but somehow feeling ashamed to be craving. But there's no reason to feel that way.