see, this one is great because it requires you to know who phil is and how the wall of sound applies to this picture. oh, and my sense of humour.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
spector cat
see, this one is great because it requires you to know who phil is and how the wall of sound applies to this picture. oh, and my sense of humour.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Woody Allen Cat
this cat's original caption has the only excusable use of "wif"; as spoken by infant versions of mammals
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
sinking cat
i use comedy as a cry for help, rather than suicide, because the medical fees would be too much to deal with if i was unsuccessful.
from the moment i wake up to the moment i fall asleep i am battling against the majority of me that wants to jump off the balcony
I lurk. I'm a lurker. There's a lot of stigma behind lurking and those who partake in the activity, and with good reason. We are a privacy-obsessed culture, and whenever someone tries to go around your privacy protocol it sets off a red flag. I'm not saying it's not creepy, I'm saying you're a massive hypocrite. let's get a few things straight:
a) you made a public profile. anythin you put on that profile is open to the public, and LOGGED in a database. forget what I know about you, you should be worried about the years of myspace stupidity that rupert murdoch knows.
b) I'm not masturbating to your photos, or selling your information. I'm worried about you. seriously. everyone i meet i become concerned for. there are very few people i know that i trust to be alright, and those people are surprises to me. James Mercer said it right, caring is creepy, so i keep a distance and never let you know. sometimes i'm stealing your bands, most of the time i'm trying read between the lines. I'm looking at your significant other, and your friends, and the language you and your significant other and your friends use throughout your profile. the poses in your photos, the groups you associate with, the events you go to. you have a game plan, whether you realize it or not. I'm trying to figure it out.
c) i'm about as shy and reclusive as it gets. truthfully, i'd rather NOT talk to you; I've lost just about all communication skills. I don't remember how to make friends. there was a time when i was good at it, and i could enter any room at any party and leave with 5 new friends. I think, the problem was that i became friends with someone who makes friends with everyone. so I thought i was one of those people, when in reality i was just part of a group that collectively acted sociable. i prefer to keep up with you this way, if for only that i'm naturally conservative. i need to have information about how best to deal with you.
d) i'm not saying i'm not crazy. fuck you.
if any of you have read or seen high fidelity, you'll recognize a fantastic truth about hipsterdom Rob points out: it's about what you like, not what you ARE like. it is shallow, but it is true. your tastes say more about you than most of your actions. if for no other reason than your behavior is often defined by your taste. bros act macho, goths act freaky, nerds act dweeby, and hipsters act like snobs. example?
if your livejournal has a picture of a golden girl, anywhere, you are a hipster. if you list any godard film and you didn't beat off to brigitte bardot when she was still hot, you are a hipster. if you list any godard film in english, you are a bad hipster. this is really why me and the scene, as it were, never really got along. as an english major, i had to distribute so much bullshit to my professors that to then have to do the same in my social life just became too much. it made sense at first, i'd be doing something i enjoyed all day, i'd get better at it, eventually, all the conjecture and grandiosity would synergize into a giant metaphor and we'd all get superpowers. i'd have mike kinsella twinkliness. or scott hansen ElEsDe-ness.
the reason i'm going on about this is becausei'm considering a move back to amherst for a while and i've been lurking all the people i used to know at school. this is, admittedly, a totally selfish act since there are only a few people that i can even be sure would be there by fall next year, and those people i'm already good friends with and don't really need to lurk. i'm really just scratching an itch, looking through old flings and girls who got away and any cute friends they have. I fell upon this one picture of a dilemma i was once in, or at least would have wished to be in. it was a picture of two girls i used to know really well. they each have the same dark hair and blue eyes and they just scream of being rich girls. i think am grossly attracted to money, or at least it's effect on pretty girls. evidently, they has a massive falling out, which is really not surprising. I'm kind of sorry i missed it.
i won't get into it, i'm just very sad. not about them, about everything. for every choice you make there is an entirely different path you miss out on. it's not even that i had a choice in that scenario, but there were things i let lie, things i settled for, things i made a judgment on. whether or not there was any other way it could've gone is up for debate but it's not really what i'm debating. billy pilgrim, for all his delusions of being unstuck in time, was really a slave to the same linear plot. I feel stuck. i feel like i'm reliving the same events over and over. i have been trying to be someone cool or desirable or respectable so many times over i don't know who i am underneath so many years of layers. i think this is why i respect trees so much. i don't care about art as much as i used to, or i don't care on the level that everyone else does. I would say i have a truer interpretation, but i'm an ass, so who knows. i think i'm losing a desire to live. or a feeling like there's a point. you know that beginning scene in annie hall where he talks about his childhood, and he's telling the therapist about how he's realized there's no point to life since the inevitable heat death of the universe would render all accomplishments into dust, given enough time? that's how i feel, at that huge of a level, i just don't see the point. i know that i won't ever see that day, nor will my children or even the human race, but i just don't see why we're trying if it ultimately means that it was never worth it. things are born, they live, and then they die, you see it all throughout the universe. stars and kittens, galaxies and molecules, even the universe itself, everything will die. i'm looking for some reason to look past that and enjoy myself while i'm here, but i'm beginning to think there's nothing. there is servitude to your debts, and there is fucking everything up, which can be both good and bad. either you live bored, or you live paranoid. i'm joyless with little chance of recovery.
in the end, i didn't want either of the girls in that photo. I was always after the really fucked up beauties. brunettes are girls you marry. the red heads and blondes are all the fun.
a) you made a public profile. anythin you put on that profile is open to the public, and LOGGED in a database. forget what I know about you, you should be worried about the years of myspace stupidity that rupert murdoch knows.
b) I'm not masturbating to your photos, or selling your information. I'm worried about you. seriously. everyone i meet i become concerned for. there are very few people i know that i trust to be alright, and those people are surprises to me. James Mercer said it right, caring is creepy, so i keep a distance and never let you know. sometimes i'm stealing your bands, most of the time i'm trying read between the lines. I'm looking at your significant other, and your friends, and the language you and your significant other and your friends use throughout your profile. the poses in your photos, the groups you associate with, the events you go to. you have a game plan, whether you realize it or not. I'm trying to figure it out.
c) i'm about as shy and reclusive as it gets. truthfully, i'd rather NOT talk to you; I've lost just about all communication skills. I don't remember how to make friends. there was a time when i was good at it, and i could enter any room at any party and leave with 5 new friends. I think, the problem was that i became friends with someone who makes friends with everyone. so I thought i was one of those people, when in reality i was just part of a group that collectively acted sociable. i prefer to keep up with you this way, if for only that i'm naturally conservative. i need to have information about how best to deal with you.
d) i'm not saying i'm not crazy. fuck you.
if any of you have read or seen high fidelity, you'll recognize a fantastic truth about hipsterdom Rob points out: it's about what you like, not what you ARE like. it is shallow, but it is true. your tastes say more about you than most of your actions. if for no other reason than your behavior is often defined by your taste. bros act macho, goths act freaky, nerds act dweeby, and hipsters act like snobs. example?
if your livejournal has a picture of a golden girl, anywhere, you are a hipster. if you list any godard film and you didn't beat off to brigitte bardot when she was still hot, you are a hipster. if you list any godard film in english, you are a bad hipster. this is really why me and the scene, as it were, never really got along. as an english major, i had to distribute so much bullshit to my professors that to then have to do the same in my social life just became too much. it made sense at first, i'd be doing something i enjoyed all day, i'd get better at it, eventually, all the conjecture and grandiosity would synergize into a giant metaphor and we'd all get superpowers. i'd have mike kinsella twinkliness. or scott hansen ElEsDe-ness.
the reason i'm going on about this is becausei'm considering a move back to amherst for a while and i've been lurking all the people i used to know at school. this is, admittedly, a totally selfish act since there are only a few people that i can even be sure would be there by fall next year, and those people i'm already good friends with and don't really need to lurk. i'm really just scratching an itch, looking through old flings and girls who got away and any cute friends they have. I fell upon this one picture of a dilemma i was once in, or at least would have wished to be in. it was a picture of two girls i used to know really well. they each have the same dark hair and blue eyes and they just scream of being rich girls. i think am grossly attracted to money, or at least it's effect on pretty girls. evidently, they has a massive falling out, which is really not surprising. I'm kind of sorry i missed it.
i won't get into it, i'm just very sad. not about them, about everything. for every choice you make there is an entirely different path you miss out on. it's not even that i had a choice in that scenario, but there were things i let lie, things i settled for, things i made a judgment on. whether or not there was any other way it could've gone is up for debate but it's not really what i'm debating. billy pilgrim, for all his delusions of being unstuck in time, was really a slave to the same linear plot. I feel stuck. i feel like i'm reliving the same events over and over. i have been trying to be someone cool or desirable or respectable so many times over i don't know who i am underneath so many years of layers. i think this is why i respect trees so much. i don't care about art as much as i used to, or i don't care on the level that everyone else does. I would say i have a truer interpretation, but i'm an ass, so who knows. i think i'm losing a desire to live. or a feeling like there's a point. you know that beginning scene in annie hall where he talks about his childhood, and he's telling the therapist about how he's realized there's no point to life since the inevitable heat death of the universe would render all accomplishments into dust, given enough time? that's how i feel, at that huge of a level, i just don't see the point. i know that i won't ever see that day, nor will my children or even the human race, but i just don't see why we're trying if it ultimately means that it was never worth it. things are born, they live, and then they die, you see it all throughout the universe. stars and kittens, galaxies and molecules, even the universe itself, everything will die. i'm looking for some reason to look past that and enjoy myself while i'm here, but i'm beginning to think there's nothing. there is servitude to your debts, and there is fucking everything up, which can be both good and bad. either you live bored, or you live paranoid. i'm joyless with little chance of recovery.
in the end, i didn't want either of the girls in that photo. I was always after the really fucked up beauties. brunettes are girls you marry. the red heads and blondes are all the fun.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
dead cat
making these keeps me sane
i think i am better at this than the guy who does mayihaveacheeseburger.com but he's pretty good at it too.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
i'm not gay, but my boyfriend is
look at this fucking painting. jesus. literally.I'm getting really into klimt and picasso. in my search for inspiration and ideas, stumbleupon has led me to a lot of graphic design and paintings. i'm obsessed with the work of this british guy, oliver polanski.
seriously. how much acid has this guy done?
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