Let Us Do Some Shots!

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peasantlola:

This reminds me of a story I’ve been meaning to write.

Originally posted on zombie fights shark:

shots

Hey, Party Animal… why so glum? Is it because you’re tired of doing the same old shots at the same old bars, night after night? Tequila with salt and lime… Jagerbombs with the boys… Tuaca… Rumple… straight bourbon for when you’re feeling a little down in the dumps…? Well maybe it’s time you-

What?

You’re glum because your girlfriend broke up with you? She said it’s because, her words, “you have a smelly penis?”

Ah… well… hey, what say we talk about some new and exciting shots that are taking the nation’s watering holes by storm? That okay, buddy? You are really sobbing, there. Okay, well I’m going to to go ahead and do my thing. You… ah… you stay strong. Maybe invest in a loofah…? Anyway, here’s…

New And Exciting Shots For 2014

The Gravy Wiggler

Fill a shot glass rimmed with shredded American cheese up to the top…

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& i still do

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20140311-221733.jpgRobin Wright as Claire Underwood has a Draperian power over me that makes me want to obey because her voice is honey molasses and her hair is perfect. How perfect? So perfect that after twirling my own curls during a stressful episode I marched right upstairs and took the clippers to my head. If my hair can’t be perfect like hers then by god I’ll have LESS HAIR. 20140311-223636.jpg20140311-223646.jpg

it pleases me to obey

excuse me.

I want to be significant. I don’t know how to be. All I am is words & sounds with food and sun and no direction but lots of ambition and if only I had a camera to hold and regular access to a microphone and an audience and maybe a tripod and clothes that looked interesting on me, or a better face, or a way with words, or a singing voice, or even kleptomania instead of this short dumpling of a self insisting that words are a darling and WE ARE ALL ART because Fosse said so: it is known in the choreography of the limbs of his dancers, Khaleesi. I am a Degas. I don’t want to be an artist, I want to be ART

arte soy entre las artes

which is really just when in Rome, but Rome should be ME. Don’t you see? I am a darling, a word so sweet you won’t let it out of your mouth just yet because you are tasting it.

CLAIRE and DON and JOAN believe in me, so maybe one day I can be a poem?20140311-224246.jpg

put a fucking frame on it.

dispatches from my despair: portraits of the liberal artist an a young, unemployable misanthrope

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20140311-221341.jpgI was really excited to manipulate images with saucy, original copy for a job application.

I didn’t get the job, and I will never get a job, but I will never stop cleverly juxtaposing image and text.

Anyway, I guess my new hobby is to create better images to go with headlines.

20140311-220324.jpgSince When Don’t Dudes Like Ladies Who Drink Beer?

20140311-220343.jpgYou Are Not Too Anything For Anyone: A Dater’s Manifesto

20140311-220359.jpgHow Refusing to Celebrate Valentine’s Day Changed My Life

Old Indian Burial Ground

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peasantlola:

Last time I went to Word Night, at the end of that evening of literary arts spoken into a microphone, I asked to have more attention paid to me, and then breathily confessed that listening to everyone’s blah blah blah made ME want to have a blah blah blah, and that this last piece (I swore it would be the last) reminded me of everything everyone had read bout.

This is like that. I’ll have my own words on LCD in response soon enough.

Originally posted on Ignorant:

A sordid affair is the only kind worth having. Open the app, swipe to the right, ask a stranger if they want to see you naked. Take everyone, anyone, and make them yours. That’s how it’s done.

Don’t play innocent. This is not a rebuke. You are natural, au natural, unshaven, ungroomed, sparking with static in the winter months when you pull your sweater off your head. Your breath is tight in your chest, but that’s not the guilt. It’s just asthma. You smoke too much.

Drive down Lake Shore Drive in the little car you bought yourself with the last four semi-decent paychecks you got from work. Look at those waves. Remember, it’s not an ocean, even if it looks like it. Some of it froze this winter, and you remembered the times your father took you there to skate. He should have become less terrifying as the years…

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‘STEP INTO MY WIGWAM’ by Heather Christie

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Originally posted on thesewordsiwrite2012:

Every day I send the orphans a political message.

I say, Friends, you may be trying,

but you are not trying hard enough–

the ceiling is steadily lowering itself and one day

we will return home with our bags of frozen vegetables

to find ourselves utterly crushed.

At least we are living in ingenious times.

I have learned that it’s impossible

to smooth out a grave with a rolling pin

and anyway ecology dictates cremation.

I am so fond of this body, esp. my brain

which is full of bees attending

their convention on How to Tame a Nightstick.

They have miniature boxes of corn flakes.

You can eat as many as you’d like.

 

 

- taken from The Difficult Farm (2009)

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Nicole Vaunt and Her Sunday Strips

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Originally posted on Sex with Timaree:

vaunt Let’s get this out of the way: Nicole Vaunt is disturbingly good looking. It takes a good solid 10 minutes to acclimate to the fact she’s n ot only a real person but also an incredibly sharp, insightful and ambitious businesswoman . Consider yourself forewarned.

We chatted about everything from the Sunday Strips that put her on the map- every week she puts together a new striptease for the world set to a song she’s currently digging- to her ethically-sourced, sustainable fashion line and maybe gossip a bit about Jared Leto.

SPECIAL EXTRA NSFW AWESOMESAUCE: Not only can you check out this episode in podcast form, but you can also WATCH IT! Holy cats!



Daily Motion Video of Nicole Vaunt Interview

Listen to it here or on iTunes, Podbay, or Feedburner, where you can subscribe and get all the episodes even sooner!

Questions? Comments? Violent reactions?…

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an open letter to amy glass

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Hi Amy,

This is just to say that I understand and appreciate your point of view, and offer you another.

I spent the majority of my early adulthood basically hating women and worrying that I was some sort of weird male chauvinist. After some research and soul searching, I realized that empowerment is my favourite, and I had totally been a closet feminist all that time that I was saying anti-woman things to my friends that are boys like “put away your giant, gaping vagina,” as if there was something disdainful about possessing a vagina. Like the vagina I have.

I’m saying this because there’s an uncomfortable discussion happening on my stupid fb wall based on your article on young mothers. I’m glad to say that instead of out rightly calling you a misogynist like I wanted to, I read all your TC articles to see if I could get more context for what was published, and I totally did, and I’m glad.

Obviously some people are more equal than others, and I’m okay with that. Clearly more women need to have the tangible power that is universally acknowledged and respected. But I don’t know that we need to entirely discredit those who bump their heads on the glass ceiling as they pull themselves up by their bootstraps.

I have the suspicion that your views on women and power are pretty similar to mine: that women shouldn’t wait for empowerment to be allowed to them; women should seize it for themselves and not simply settle for their prescribed gender roles. That we should be bored with what society expects us to be excited about, and reach for more.

Interestingly enough, I’m typing this with a sleeping baby on my chest and an engagement ring on my finger. The baby isn’t mine, I’m a nanny. My fiancé didn’t give me this ring, I inherited it, and when I finally accepted that loving him wasn’t some sort of massive failure to every single one of my values, I surprised him by having it on when I came home from work one night.

I’ve been flouting my gender role and societal expectations of a young black female from a poor family since I was born. I just happened to have a mother that spent all of my life in college, and a grandmother who rearranged her schedule as a nurses’ aid to be the one to shoulder the minutiae of two bratty, snot nosed kids so my mom could make something of herself teaching young adults how to teach small kids instead of raising her own. That was pretty cool of them. And now that I’m older, I can stop resenting my mother for not spending as much time with me as I always wanted her to. And now I help other women raise their children because at least I had a really nourishing foundation with my mother before my brother was born and she went to school. And these mothers have the freedom to go do their jobs. And I feel like I might be contributing something.

As for the ring, there just happens to be a boy that I love dearly and he seems to love me too and together we just about can afford our lives. I totally miss being single sometimes, but he makes me smile involuntarily. I can live with that I guess, until we aren’t happy anymore. That’s what marriage is as far as we are concerned.

Now, my dreams for myself are to learn to live off the land so I can ensure my own food security and be entirely self-sufficent. I grew up in kitchens where women prepared the meals they waned to eat themselves; the men could come home and eat if they wanted to and no one cared if they liked what was on their plates.

The version of feminism and the American Dream that I am seizing for myself is to do whatever I want when I want. I hate going to work but I love to stay at home and eat whatever I want whenever I feel like it. I like to work for my food and know where it comes from. So, for me, digging up the earth and and baking and fermenting what comes out of it is success.

What I’m saying is that there is a surprising amount of power that can be seized from staying at home and making sure you live in the kind of space that you idealize. Perhaps the women we view as weak have realized this in not so many words. Surely it’s not as powerful as running an entire country or company, but maybe they view their families as their share hold, and have exactly as much influence they personally need in the world, turning people into the sort of people they would be happy to respect, and having a home they are proud of.

I just wish it were easier to say what we mean and that everyone tried harder to understand everyone else.

Cheers,
Cherise