On: that boy just aint right.

YOW. Here's some of the stuff I've made/taped together/slapped on other stuff and stabbed at recently (but not all that recently - the shirt I made last month, the DENTATA patch I made a year and a half ago, but the pins I made just a few days ago). I made a silhouette stencil of mein lieber drei hund and I've been going kinda nuts with it because I just love The Human Centipede so much. The pictures on the pins are all from National Geographic. The patches on my butt are to cover up big wear holes that began surfacing when I caught my butt on a nail leaving the Kodak factory - one hole is made and suddenly the whole ass gives out. The floral butt-patch says "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn" ("In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming") (source, wikipedia) three times, but I broke the stencil after the first one and so the last two prints only say Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn. I have a much more pristine copy sewn to the inside of that one jacket I wears all the time.

There is a good chance that I will nver grow up but maybe I'm just pooping.

On: therapist.

YEAH. I got some new glasses. Old man rapist glasses. But they don't look very creeper-y on me. I guess I'll just have to drool and breath harder whenever I'm in the bathroom.



School is almost over, spring is already here. I have been mildly sunburnt three times now. Yay! But I am unable to resist the draw of long walks in the sun which makes me a far less productive student. Luckily it is a beautiful foggyish, mistyish, moistyish day out today so I think I can go for a stroll without baking my grey matters.



Now if you, gentle reader, would peer to your right and scroll down you will see my links list. I have updated the comics and will continue to do so. I highly recomend that you read Funniest Man in the World: it's really good and an anarchist put it out, I guess. And then when you've read it peruse the other zines in the zinelibrary. And then read the Tijuana Bibles that I put up: Bathless Groggins, Flash Gordon on a Lark, Goof Butts and Plastic Man. All but Flash Gordon are by Mr. Dyslexic who is AWESOME and Bibles are AWESOME and you should read them. Most of the rest are still webcomics - I'll be updating this list periodically as I come across awesome shit. So if you're into comics keep checking, and give me some tips, yo.

On: subways.

Last year I didn’t have occasion to go downtown very often so riding the subway was a real treat. The experience was terrible and beautiful; equal parts isolation-melancholia and underground beauty. This year I commute to school and enjoy my subway rides without the sadness – I read, I watch the tracks behind me, and lately I draw.

I’ve been having strange emotions for the last month and that’s what this comic is about. Sometimes I’m haunted by a sense of guilt for something I can’t remember, or maybe didn’t happen at all. Being around people sometimes/used to make me deeply uncomfortable, but I’m getting over it. Cracking the hermit shell takes time, rooting out squirrlish tendencies takes time. If you read this please tell me; was the emotion of the comic clear? Vague but accessible? Did it have an effect? Was it effective?

Today I am hangovered, as T-rex would say. I will eat kimchi noodles and then wander about. Delight! Reading week has begun!

On: The clash.

I guess I can see why people mistake me for a hipster...

And this is me waking up.

On: Remembering dreams.

This is me going to sleep. Sleeeeeeeeeeep.

On: Distaining Men, and Oxygen, for Arrogance of them ---

I never spoke—unless addressed—
I'm here for when ever the club sippin buzz really drunk and I see a fat booty
And then, 'twas brief and low—
Got to have it I'm a grab it cause its a habbit automatic like uzi, with the sick flow
I could not bear to live—aloud—
Make a chick go crazy and plastered tatta its redfoo the dude a true party rockaaaah
The Racket shamed me so—



SORRY FOR PARTY ROCKING

NOTE TO SELF








FUCK YEAH

On: caught in act.

On: eyes like a frying pan, skin on fire.

ORP 2011

On: a night out. It was a night out...

On: 3 HUND

Oh life! You wacky substanceless wonder! You've tossed me again, like a salad, like other things that and tossed. Frisbees? I dunno man, I don't do a lot of sports.

So some guy (mommy, whats a landlord?) evicted the residents of the Wizards Tower, so no more Kensington life for me. I had planned to know every cranny, every nook, then get to know the crannys again, but t'aint gon be so. Where have I gone too you ask? Tis a glorious lang. A land where no man wears a shirt. A land where all tattoos are prison tattoos. High unemployment, slow pace, canals, cracked streets...no it's not Detroit. It's called Welland and it's AWESOME here. Buildings sit empty on Main Street, some look abandoned, some disused, and some just look derelict though they are still running. Empty factories, empty houses; it’s a playground!

It's kindof like home, actually, but the people are more "white trash-blue collar" where I'm used to "redneck and bible thumping". Either way it actually feels comfortable to be an alien again!

Ahhhh...rent free, a near zero chance of finding work (though I'm sure I'll start trying soon) and a town to explore. Thanks life! Wishes do come true!

Also: heading out to OM next week.
Also: been paintin.
Also: Wheeeee!

To your right you will see clouds over Kensington, ye olde tower (the blue/white window was mine) and...uhhh...me.

On: Towering pitfalls.

Good morning world, hows about a caffeine+smiles breakfast? Bacon flapjacks? Cat fuzz?

I’m waiting on another move now, waiting and reading quest stories and comics and reading cigarette papers and reading buds and reading reds. The death pit will be refilled without me in it and I’ll be living in a Wizards Tower instead. I’m camping in my own room now, almost everything is in a box. On Thursday I will retire to the country to paint Eastern Eggs and lie on the road at night. It sounds like I’m talking nonsense but actually this is all factual, except for reading reds. I’m not sure how that would be done…actually I am.

I can’t help but still measure years by school periods, with summer constituting some kind of glorious purgatory that isn’t really a part of the year. Then September comes and the New Year melancholy rolls in with the cool air. Three days until I enter purgatory and the most beautiful place on earth.

On: dropping.

On: blue gloved hands.

On: Old old old.

On: beltower lean.

Reading week has been/is being, as I type this, deliciously wonderful. I spent several days with my beautiful boyfriend; his name is Ian. I went to my parents’ house on Tuesday and spent more days having a lovely time with them. Dad made a horn from the spinner of a washing machine that he found in the garbage; it’s super rad, it’s named the Outside Agitator and I get to paint it someday. We have plans for a second horn that will be a collaborative project employing both of our talents. Mom and I spent lots of time hanging out, going to small towns and eating tasty things. My plan was to go visit Nox and B-Rad and others after that, but an invitation was issued that I could not refuse, and thusly it was accepted. I am currently sitting in a hotel room in Ottawa formulating plans and dreaming of future cuddles. Life is tasty!

On: no biggie, just my favorite self portrait of time thus far.

On: Do I have to?