goodgravy

So my costume plan has changed, but I definitely think it will be an improvement. Instead having an awesome, slightly nebulous idea, I now have an awesome, totally concrete idea. Plus I will be getting nerd +1 points.

What is staying: the catsuit and the mondo large hair.

What is going: the face paint.

Subtract the latter from the former. Then add moonboots, alter the catsuit into a butt-creeping leotard, and carry around a space gun. Furthermore, add a hula hoop for when it is time to danse. You get:

YEEAAAH DAWG.  It is going to be fun, and I’ll be dancing around like pantyhose are itchy, itchy itchy itchy.

I met another excellent dog today. He was little and also kind of piggly, and he was all over my foot like flies on a barf. I got some good shoe kisses, and the little dude got some good head scratches. That is what I call plain old good business.

So it is probably not a surprise that I got my own business cards today, seeing as I am good at business. I forgot to leave a card with that dog though. However, there will be plenty of future meetings I am sure, and I will charm those dogs with my skills. Basically I go like, It’s a pleasure to meet you sir. Then the dog is all like, Please rub my belly! So then I give him a rub, which is like a business handshake for dogs, and the dog then slobbers on me to seal the deal. Then I leave my card and say, Thank you sir let’s do lunch sometime. And the dog goes, Oink.

Not to be redundant, but man! Business cards! I feel so excellent.

Sorry guys, I do not have too much time to write today. There are more pressing matters to take care of, you know how it is, like little poops that need to be cleaned and ice cream that needs to be eaten.

Anyway, today was a success for your old girl. I bitched out Blue Cross over the phone, got myself a refund, and cancelled my insurance. VICTORY. I probably should not feel as good as I do about going without health insurance, but hey, you gotta take your good moods as they come to you. Plus I am covered for car accidents. Let us just hope I don’t get cancer or get stabbed anytime before Christmas, because that is when I qualify for Healthy San Francisco (I <3 living in a socialist paradise).

What else do you need to know…hum. I met an awesome dog today. Meeting dogs is like my favorite thing to do, you know. Anyway, this dog was an awesome bulldog. He had a wicked underbite and bulgy eyes and made little piggly noises while he flopped all over me like a fish. He would have given me nightmares as a kid, but today I thought he was excellent and gave him an A+.  Plus he has to sleep in the closet with the door closed because he snores so loud, which only adds to his score. I would definitely meet that dog again.

Sometimes I wish the internet did not exist. Do you ever feel like that? I just have a headache and there is too much going on over here. Right now, I would really like it if computers could only be used to make Excel spreadsheets and MS Paint dragons. Then I would not have the facilities to deal with the things I have to deal with.

On the other hand though, without the internet I would not be able to tell you about the roller disco I went to on Friday night. It was a big affair in a small building, and maybe a little bit of a sketchy situation for all the drunks on roller skates. Being a roller blades kid, I was pretty terrified of the front brakes, so I didn’t use them. Neither did anyone else. So there were cool things going down, like this mondo large chick careening into everyone like some gigantic human bowling ball. Plus everyone was in costume, so I got to see some good ones like the guy wearing pajama pants and a sparkly button up shirt. In my opinion it was pretty good, whatever it was.

But, now it is time to get back to Monday a.k.a Get a Headache On. Hope you are having a good one.

P.S. On the subject of headaches, Blue Cross is the worst fucking health care provider. I used to think health care was a good idea, maybe even important. But now I never want a health care plan, ever. NEVER. I am shaking my fist so hard!

Remember when people used to say “that’s BAAAD” when they really meant “that’s SUPER GOOD?” I do. Unfortunately my brain was small back in those days, so I never fully appreciated the ambiguity of 90s slang.

But, let us pretend it is 1994 and I have my big brain on. I could like to go into an Arby’s and be all like, Yo this sandwich is BAAAAD. And the store manager will be like,  Right on it is super delicious right. And then I’ll be like, No it is BAAAD and this restuarant smells like a mondo cow patty! He’ll be all confused and upset, and then I’ll go, SIKE! (like the real way, not “psych” the lame way). How awesome would that be? Very very, is the answer.

Now that I think about it though, I’m pretty sure BAAAD was just a watered-down form of badass. The nineties were pretty lame like that. You used to be able to find tons of clip-on earrings at stores, because people were too wienery to get their ears pierced. And plus, stirrup pants? Those aren’t real pants. The nineties were for wimps.

I’m pretty thankful that we are living in the year 2000 now instead, even though I have a real need for a fanny pack. Think about that one too. Why fanny packs? Because people were too wimpy to hold purses. I am going to justify mine however, because I’ll use it when I run to the beach. Plus I will fill it with dumbbells.

My straightener went on the fritz the other morning. The timing was most unfortunate as I was rocking some very wild hair.  Other than that, not much has occurred that is worthy of noting. Well, maybe there is. Mrs. Frisby did pee on my blonde rat’s head.

Momentous events aside, I have noticed laundry day is when I get hit on the most. I’m not sure why. Is it the scent of fresh Tide, hovering in the air, that is so stirring? Is it the alluring call of anti-static Bounce sheets? Is it my tendency to wear old ass clothes? We may never know. At least today I did not get groped by Old Man Grabbins who, incidentally, made an appearance the other week. I saw him lurching across the street and trying to give old ladies some lovins. He also patted my friend on the belly and told her it was very nice.

Nope, no Grabbins today, thank goodness. Just some bros passing by. One dude was all like, that is a really hot dress! But I was mostly focused on getting some frozen yogurt, so I wasn’t paying attention. He sounded kind of offended, and was like, Yes I was talking to you! Well sorry bro. But you and I both know my snakeskin print sack dress just would not fit you, no matter how flattering you think it is. That’s life.

So the moral of the story is, move here if you want people to hit on you. It doesn’t matter what your race or gender is, because we’ve got equal opportunity creepers. However, beware. Times are rough now and you can never be sure if a dude is going to try to take your dress for himself.

My fellow Americans, I cannot tell a lie. My Halloween getup is going to be AWESOME!

I’ve got the best catsuit/pantsuit/whatever, ever! It is super foxy like a hot grandma. Then I am going deck my hair out in AquaNet and rock some awesome make-up like that pretty kitty dude from KISS. I’m also going to make some party heels, but I think I am giving too much away at this point. Just rest assured, my outfit is going to be top dawg.

Think yours is going to be better? Chut up! Not even. Perhaps you can tell I am way hyped for this October 31. I totally am. There are like, parties you go to, and then there are parties. I don’t even know what the deal is yet, but I know for sure I am going to party. Believe you me, it has been awhile for your old girl. It’s not like I’m lame or anything. There is like a six pack in my fridge. Let’s just say I’m distinguished and attend only the fanciest events, and I’m pretty sure dressing up is guaranteed fancy.

Not that you can top my style, but I still totally want to hear what you dudes and lady dudes are going to be up to. Holler.

Sometimes I peep out the window and draw whatever is parked across the street. Unfortunately for you I am just doing cars, and not the guys in the building opposite me who walk around 100% naked (they’re in the “hot tranny mess” building, in case you were wondering).

I know if I spent 30-40 minutes I could draw a decent looking car, but damn. To me that feels a bit like cheating. So lately I have been working on some SPEED CARS, which means, 15 minutes or less. It reminds of that Buzzcocks song, where they are all like, “I HATE FAST CARS.” I feel the same way, because they are frustratingly hard to draw.

Doing this whole car thing is kind of fun though. It makes me laugh when I step away and take a look at my work. I mean, some of these cars are living in two different planes, that is how wonky they are. Additionally, it is fun to stereotype their drivers.

Anyway, here are some fast cars, earliest to most recent.

“I don’t want to cause a fuss, but fast cars, are, so, dangerous!”

I finally figured out how to give money to hobos and not feel like I am just helping them get sloshed on Mad Train. Because, I honestly feel super mean when a nice old homeless man comes up and acts all nice and I just give the dude a fat cold shoulder. I know there are times when it is better for me to act like that, like if business owners have problems with specific hobos it is not good to go and give those hobos money and encourage them to stay. And, living in the city of love, I know there are many programs out there dedicated to helping people off the streets, and I am already helping to pay for that when I buy mad expensive groceries. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to give my pocket change to those who are asking for it.

As I may have mentioned, I’ve met some super nice hobos, and it’s just in my nature to want to be nice back. So I’ve decided that it is A-OK to drop dollars on those nice folks, despite the fact that one is not supposed to. Like, there was this old man lounging on the sidewalk by the drug store and he was all “HEY GIRL I LIKE THOSE BOOTS!” And I was like, hell yeah you do! And then he made pleasant conversation about nice evenings and sparing some change, all gentlemanly in his nook, and his name was Roosevelt. I quickly put two and two together and realized that a man named Roosevelt would be worth his salt. I flowed him some pocket change and was like, It was a pleasure sir now go buy yourself a nice cocaine. Then he said I had a wonderful smile, even though I wasn’t smiling at all, and that was the end of that.

So the moral of the story is that you shouldn’t feel bad giving $$$ to a gentleman of the street. Dudes, let us all just party on and be excellent to each other.

Ohhhh man, it is so nice out today. I want to take this opportunity to say “Thank you” to SF for not being a fog pit, and also “Fuck you” to Davis because I am past due on that.

Anyway, today is the kind of day where you can be riding with your top down, with your jewelry on. Too bad I drive a Hyundai, but I did at least crack open the sunroof, plus I was decked out in my old lady bling. People know I am thug life for sure when they see my gigantic beaded flower ring all twinkling and shit.

Speaking of mad jewry, I am 100% interested in starting up my own line. It’s lame that I don’t have a lot of money and I don’t know how to solder shit, but man, if I did…Let me just say that you would be seeing a lot more than upsidedown crosses and upsidedown babies in the Fancy D. S/S 2009 Collection.

I am serious about this though like I am serious about good cheese. If you think you would be interested in some totally boss jewry, like gangster chain/floral necklaces and things, let me know.