Sloan was at the
Museum of Contemporary Art a few weeks ago with her stepmom and was thrilled to hear there was an upcoming exhibit about the works of "alternative cartoonist"
Chris Ware. She's been bugging me about going for weeks. We finally trekked down there yesterday. Turns out the exhibit was
last year. Oh, well. There was still lots of cool photography to ponder, and lots of video installations to make fun of. (Seriously,
Pipilotti Rist, you can shoot footage of your naked body underwater and set it to a dreamy/disturbing soundtrack of yourself screeching Chris Isaak...but maybe just post it on YouTube.)
I am awake! Then, after a month-long break of not feeling very funny, I did stand-up again at Pressure, followed by a late night Deluxe Diner chat with a cousin. At left is what I look like the morning after such a busy day. Super squinty and puffy, which is apropos, since one of my jokes last night was about disregarding doctor's orders to wear a sun hat every time I go outside, and waking up looking like "Renee Zellweger went on a coke-and-bulimia binge, conceived a baby with an Inuit, let that baby grow up, and then punched that baby in both eyes." Hot.
Decapitated mice! I woke up and found this on the floor by my bed. Apparently
someone who is normally very quiet and reserved worked out some pent-up aggression on her little toy mice in the middle of the night. If she were a child doing that with her toys, I'd have to take her to a shrink and have her evaluated for sociopathic tendencies.
I slapped this together for
breakfast. It looks like those nasty Bagel Bites things, but in fact is an organic Fuji apple smeared with peanut butter and cheese. Only about half as nasty as Bagel Bites. I ate only half of it, making my breakfast roughly 25% as gnarly as Bagel Bites.
Sloan was at the Museum of Contemporary Art a few weeks ago with her stepmom and was thrilled to hear there was an upcoming exhibit about the works of "alternative cartoonist" Chris Ware. She's been bugging me about going for weeks. We finally trekked down there yesterday. Turns out the exhibit was last year. Oh, well. There was still lots of cool photography to ponder, and lots of video installations to make fun of. (Seriously, Pipilotti Rist, you can shoot footage of your naked body underwater and set it to a dreamy/disturbing soundtrack of yourself screeching Chris Isaak...but maybe just post it on YouTube.)
I am awake! Then, after a month-long break of not feeling very funny, I did stand-up again at Pressure, followed by a late night Deluxe Diner chat with a cousin. At left is what I look like the morning after such a busy day. Super squinty and puffy, which is apropos, since one of my jokes last night was about disregarding doctor's orders to wear a sun hat every time I go outside, and waking up looking like "Renee Zellweger went on a coke-and-bulimia binge, conceived a baby with an Inuit, let that baby grow up, and then punched that baby in both eyes." Hot.
Decapitated mice! I woke up and found this on the floor by my bed. Apparently someone who is normally very quiet and reserved worked out some pent-up aggression on her little toy mice in the middle of the night. If she were a child doing that with her toys, I'd have to take her to a shrink and have her evaluated for sociopathic tendencies.
I slapped this together for breakfast. It looks like those nasty Bagel Bites things, but in fact is an organic Fuji apple smeared with peanut butter and cheese. Only about half as nasty as Bagel Bites. I ate only half of it, making my breakfast roughly 25% as gnarly as Bagel Bites.
4 comments:
You look like that (but somehow still beautiful) only because of your breakfast choice. It looks more like a poultice.
Hey! Actually, you're making me think, I've been advised that I probably have some food allergies but I've been too lazy and undisciplined to do the elimination diet and figure out what they are. Maybe it's cheese and not sunshine (and late nights) that makes my eyes get all puffy.
I grieve that the sad life of a mouse toy is short and filled with unnecessary violence.
Me, too, Dr. Z. Poor little thing has lived a safe (if mildly abusive) life for three years before this sudden and horrible end.
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