poem clothes

did you guys know diagram has a clothing line? i think there should be more poetry clothing out there. it could be like when i was a fundamentalist christian in high school and i had a different jesus t-shirt for every day of the week. i basically had no clothes other than jesus t-shirts. i had one that said "the next time the devil reminds you of your past, remind him of his future," and the word "future" was in flames.

other people are this way with disney t-shirts, especially winnie the poo. some people don't own any garments that are without a poo on them. maybe this only happens in indiana. oh also possibly i am thinking of the looney toons. i used to know a girl with tons of tweedy bird shirts.

i have friday and monday off of work. tomorrow my friend from indiana who does not wear disney clothes or jesus clothes is coming to visit. she is bringing her husband and toddlers. and then saturday megan and are going to alamo shoes!

it is raining. last night i watched things we lost in the fire. i only rented it because benicio del toro was in it but it turned out that i liked it a lot. he was fantastic. he has strange body movements and facial expressions.

Am I going to have to get a bird to catch the spiders?

I am posting this because I am tired of looking at that armpit. It makes me think of that one tattoo, you know the one.

My neighbor who jogs wherever he goes moved out. He lived next door to me for a week and a half. His arms hang loose at his sides and he hunches his back when he trots along. To clarify: He does not walk, ever.

I had an ant problem, but now I don't have an ant problem. I have a spider problem instead. Good ol' nature.

armpit cocoon

I just discovered while sitting here having a headache and a stomachache in unison that I am pretty sure I haven't shaved my armpits since Sarah left. This is some kind of protective subconscious action--subconsciously I believe that if the hair grows long enough it will wrap me up in a safe and furry cocoon and that I can just live in there protected for the rest of my life.

Speaking of cocoons, the librarian at the college where I teach, who is always bringing in animals in tiny enclosed containers, brought in some caterpillars the other day who are now cocooning. Before the caterpillars in this same container there lived a betta who I'm pretty sure lived on tap water and flakes of pastry, which came from one of the other teachers who brings in leftover pastries from his church in a brown paper bag which the librarian then gives away to all of the other charity case teachers like myself. The brown paper bag has greasy stains on it and I always eat the pound cake, even though it is questionable for many reasons, including the fact that it is lemon with chocolate frosting, which is just weird.

[Hand signal]

So hands-down the weirdest thing about being in my entirely new place is that old jokes work again. I am surprising. That feels all right. They'll get used to me soon enough, I'm sure.

I am reading Girl Factory now, because I only read things that the VL vixens tell me to read. Physically I love its jagged edges, its odd size. Textually, I love the main character. I keep wishing he could be transplanted into Samedi the Deafness. He would eff ish up.

I don't swear anymore.
Until I see all of you again. This very weekend. Hmmm...should we invite The Ball to our next meeting? Also, do you think that he'll be offended by my calling him The Ball, because after Kathy gently stalks him down, I plan to do this to his face.

I'll also make a special balled-up fist hand signal for him. I will say things like, "Maybe I shouldn't say this in front of...[hand signal]...but how much frustration can one reader take?"

Oh, poor The Ball. I actually liked Samedi. I almost bought it twice before I finally bought it for this purpose. I wish I had bought it instead of the other two books I bought. I am not telling you what those other two books are because I am extremely nice. I am just cranky because I have to drive four hours tomorrow.

today in correspondence

i am very confused about what is happening with christian bale. sarah has been helping me with it. we also talked about samedi the deafness for a second.

me to sarah:

i am excited for you to come here this weekend. i will be fully recovered by then. i will have interesting things to say.

dude what is going on with christian bale

k+

sarah to me:

I am excited for me to come, too. I am worried, though, because it is supposed to be thunderstorming from here to Chicago on Friday. I am an excellent driver.

Christian Bale got pissed off at his mom who forced him into show business at a young and impressionable age. That is my theory. Also, now that he's a badass, it's leaking into his personal life. Also, there might be a Batman curse.

Love,

Sarah

me to sarah:

i didn't know that grieve really had a twin. my problem as a reader is that i don't really pay attention to plot. i am not following this book at all. i have to start over.

at first I heard that christian bale physically assaulted his mother and sister. then i heard that he just shoved his sister. now apparently he only verbally assaulted his mother. soon it will turn out that it wasn't his mother, it was a maid, and it wasn't christian bale, it was donald trump, and it wasn't a verbal assault, he just likes shouting "you're fired!"

christian bale can push me if he wants.

what what,
k+

sarah to me:

The funny thing is that I'm not sure the plot matters, except as a vehicle for The Ball's views. Which is okay, I guess.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure Christian Bale stabbed his pregnant wife. He can stab me if he wants.

xo,
Tee Minus

was that christian bale post annoying? look at shane jones' new fashion line then.

THE EXTREME DEEP V.

all the writers will be wearing them at the next AWP conference.

Lettin' my nerd light shine

Look ladeez, it's our old friend, Dr. Manhattan.

Last Night...

Meghan, Abby, and I got drunk and missed Sarah.

To distract ourselves from our grief, we went to Latin dance night at Stargaze. Stargaze on Latin night is definitely my new favorite place not only in the city, but the world. I got to sit there and watch other people dance and fantasize about how my life would change if I became a really good dancer.

I would definitely give up writing in exchange for dancing abilities. Also being a good dancer makes everyone hot. Therefore, I will never be hot and I will be a writer forever.

Hot or not: my beautiful loveseat

Sometimes I intentionally choose things because they are ugly. Maybe I feel sorry for them. Maybe I like ugly things.

I saw my new loveseat and said, "Oh!" like I was a mother. Specifically my mother. Later, Abby told me she thinks it is ugly. I think she thought I thought it was ugly and wanted it for that reason. But I think it is very beautiful.

i recorded megan reading from boom boom splat without her knowledge

but she said it was okay to post it. megan and i read at a thing tonight. megan read from the book she and sarah and i wrote called 'boom boom splat.' you can't see it, but the crowd went wild and many people passed out.

blog re-design and jesse ball gentle stalking

at the place of my employ, we offer all of our clients a "re-design" once a year. or like, maybe once every other year. whatever, the point is that i try to apply my profession to every aspect of my life. i am always looking for an opportunity to write a newsletter, proofread some copy, or re-design a thing. thus, i have re-designed our blog. what do you think? when i say "you" i am talking specifically to venom literati girls, but the general public is also welcome in this discourse.

also! samedi the deafness is our next book. i found out recently that jesse ball lives in my neighborhood. the hunt is on. i expect to be hiding behind many a lamp post in the days ahead.

One part depression forum, one part rare books

Today, after I typed a message to Kathy that said something like, "whine whine whine i was planning on going to this rare books and manuscripts library after work, but what am i going to do there by myself? wander?", it occurred to me that I was being pretty pathetic. Of course I sent it anyway because I'm used to her being privy to my every fleeting emotion. But then I went. I got lost, got a map, got lost again, realized I was holding the map upside down, and found it.

Inside there were many interesting things, such as a puzzle exhibit, where I learned of this thing called a Justice Cup, which was this hilarious joke easterners played on the greedy. It's a normal cup if it's filled up to one-quarter of an inch to its brim, but if you fill it any more, it all drains out this secret passageway into the bottom. Also, there was a hank of Sylvia Plath's hair. It said it was a lock, but this sucker was a hank. It looked like Ted put her hair in a ponytail and then cut it off. There was a handwritten manuscript of "Blackberrying," too. And a typewritten manuscript of "Goldfinger" with handwritten edits. By Ian Fleming, not Sylvia Plath. It was all very pretty.

summer reading list

I got two new books at The Book Cellar:

1. The Waitress was New / Dominique Fabre
2. The Girl Factory / Jim Krusoe
I bought The Girl Factory hoping that it was a do-it-yourself instructional manual on how to build one. It seems to be a novel. That's fine too, I suppose.

pictured: artist unknown, girl factory,not to be confused with the Sienna Miller vehicle, Factory Girl, which was totally boring

I have so many friends!

Wacky things keep happening to them, like one of them is having an affair with his teacher's ex-wife, and--guess what--he was the reason she decided to get a divorce. And another one is preggers and just chose to get married and keep it. And another one is completely addicted to meth and speed metal. One of them is a total shrew (and flour pale), and another one is an equally big bitch (and flour pale). But they have different colored hair from one another, so that's okay. One is a total doormat. One is a rebel bajillionaire. I just love 'em. Don't know what I'd do without 'em.

In other news, I have read almost 100 pages of the 25th anniversary edition of The Princess Bride, and Buttercup just showed up. When will we get to The Bog of Eternal Stench? Wait, that's Labyrinth.

In other, other news, I am going to start my "Gently Stalking John Cougar Mellencamp" campaign this weekend, right after I go to the farmer's market. I am fairly certain he will give us seed money to fund top secret projects and also join me in a duet of "Jack and Diane." I will be playing the mouth drums.

Lindsay Lohan, still totally dreamy

Lindsay Lohan's sister Ali was on a re-run David Letterman last night talking about her micro mini Maltese. I don't want to hear about some 14 year old's micro mini Maltese. That is just disgusting and probably illegal.Can we please write a movie starring Lindsay Lohan and I? I will learn to spell her name correctly (a, not e). I will put on my dress Converse all-stars (they're plaid).

I feel bad for that moth but not as bad as my tooth feels

My impacted wisdom tooth is nasty right now and the size of half my head. Sometimes I go to the dentist when this happens, and they look at my tooth on a video camera and wonder how I can possibly still be alive. I'm pretty sure there's a Stacey Levine story about my tooth, or a tooth like it that puffs up out of control and looms over an entire village, shadowing the residents who labor to build a giant wheel of cheese. I'm going to ask her. Maybe cheese ages better in the darkness of my tooth.

Also, since I've been sitting at home with a Tofutti Cutie "ice pack" against my face, I've been catching up on magazines that I ordered and never paid for. There's an article in Tin House about this writer, Leonard Michaels, who seems really crazy and angry and also, dead, just like my tooth. Elsewhere, there's a quote from our favorite correspondent, Wayne Koestenbaum.

Rest in peace, mothman

He is gone. I examined the body closely, but still am unsure of his true sex. There are no owl eyes on his wings. Nothing is as others say it will be.

Now I have no friends here. I am forced to sweep up someone else's dried spaghetti. My air mattress has done something unexpected twice so far tonight. I ate a child's snack for dinner. I am going to run around the park median.

I have to read The Princess Bride tonight. It is work-related.

I Heart Iskoola Pota

After a long quest for a new font, I have found one--Iskoola Pota!

You can tell by saying its name ten times fast that there is no cooler font on the planet. I am pretty sure it was invented by inuit people while they were bored and freezing in their igloo.

Who gives fonts their names, and how do they think them up, and how do they create them? I am sad that I cannot find the history or definition of Iskoola Pota.

I am the only person on the planet who uses this font. Iskoola Pota is mine forever. All the resta ya'll bitches better back the fuck off.

"i have to find some bricks and then see sex and the city"

the new issue of we heart four things is up. it has work by blake butler, brian foley, zachary schomburg and me, and was guest edited by shane jones. we are like a football team or some kind of sports team that only has four players and we are competing against the first online literature issue, which featured tao lin, brandon scott gorrell, kendra grant malone and matthew savoca. since kendra and i are the only girls we will probably have to play each other. we will probably have to wear pink helmets so people will know we are the girls, like on the power rangers.

Ode to Borders

I'm pretty sure I have already created a post with this same title. But how can you not write an Ode to Borders every day? Yesterday I went to the one on Lawrence in Uptown. That Borders is like the only "ghetto" Borders in the world. It is also my favorite Borders ever because it is basically a transient hotel. Every aisle you go down you will find a homeless person sitting in the windowsill reading something. Also they are reading, like, War and Peace, and not just magazines, which is what I usually read there.

That is the only unique and lovely thing about this Borders. Otherwise it is business as usual: the salesladies who think they are so well-read but are really just bored housewives accost you about what you're looking for and remind the homeless readers that Borders isn't a library and that if they grub up any books they will be forced to buy them. The psychology section is 98% self-help. Religion includes a section divider for "Western Religion" which is really just a bunch of different-colored Bibles, but there is no divider for anything Eastern. And of course there are only four books of poetry, hidden in a dark passageway near the bargain books: Shakespeare, Nikki Giovanni with pictures of her plastered all over the covers, Yeats, and Chicken Soup For the Poet's Soul.

Modified hotel woman am i

I think the efficiency in which I am currently living used to be a hotel. There are burners, but no oven. The refrigerator will not fit a pizza box. Abby got me a superawesome automatic corkscrew. And a Pur water filter. And a bath mat. And a welcome mat from which I am learning many news ways to make people feel comfortable: Dobro Pozhalovat; Irashaimasu. I have a moth. He lives with me. I actually have not checked his sex, but I am assigning him male gender because he flies in many different directions without purpose. Also he likes lights.

Gays on Crystal Build a Pride Float

hancock totally kicks winnipeg's ass

Last night I was forced to see Hancock, that movie where Will Smith is an anti-Superhero. This movie kicks Winnipeg's ass for many reasons. Also, I haven't seen Winnipeg, I just thought it was funny to think about this movie kicking that movie's ass. Here are the reasons why Hancock is awesome:

1. I knew nothing about this movie before I saw it. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Hancock is a drunken superhero that everyone hates. Whenever he saves the day, he is drunk, and breaks people's houses and cars, all with a handle of whiskey in his hand. Also he is not afraid to kick kids' asses. I think that I am Hancock, or that Hancock is me; we are like that "Borges and I" story, or like the father and son in EB White's essay "Once More to the Lake."

2. Obviously Hancock is a very literary film.

3. When Hancock drunkenly flies around with his handle of whiskey, the special effects are SUPER bad, like from the '70's, which makes him seem even more drunk, and which makes the director seem drunk, too. Everyone in this movie is drunk all the time.

4. There is one scene where Will Smith's ass is totally visible. He has a really good ass. I had never noticed his ass before. I wanted more of it. That would be my one change I'd make to this movie: more ass.

5. Hancock's greatest skill is his ability to (literally) shove peoples' heads up other peoples' asses. This is how he fights crime, mostly.

6. Jason Bateman is in this movie. Jason Bateman is awesome. I have a gigantic crush on Jason Bateman. Also Charlize Theron is in this movie, and she is super hot, and also a superhero. You don't get to see their asses at all. That is disappointing. (See #3.)

watermelons are hot

Watermelons are super hot. So is Japanese watermelon art. What.

The frost. The lap. The fur.

Guy Maddin is particularly awesome because he manages to be one of those artistic types who can be totally goofy but still be taken seriously. I'm not sure how he accomplishes that. I would like to find out.

Abby and I saw "My Winnipeg" last night, in which the main character, "Guy Maddin," convinces his mother to spend a month playing herself from his childhood. His brothers, sister and dog are played by actors. His dad is represented by a lump under the living room carpet. He is dead. Acting shouldn't be much of a stretch for his mom because she plays the part of "Mother" in a daily Winnipegian drama, LedgeMan, in which a man threatens suicide and Mother talks him off the ledge. Except that she keeps botching the lines. Passive-aggressive!!

But that's just one part of it. Also, there are frozen horses' heads that poke out of the icy river that become a sort of lovers' lane. There are secret back streets and not-secret front streets and one hermaphrodite street (Lorette), which is both back and front. Everyone's got a severe case of seasonal affective disorder. No one can escape because they keep falling asleep. There is a medium who speaks for the dead with interpretive dance. Mother is always watching.

It's pretty awesome. You guys should all go see it, like, right now.