Sunday, October 28, 2012

Butts, Buts and a Questionable Sequence of "Although".

Me and my loving boyfriend.
          Lately has been a mess of theatrical teenage bullshit.  I just finished my School's production of "Cinderella" (In which I was the sexy stepsister.), and now I reside in that relaxing limbo in which I wait for the next round of auditions to start.  It was a pretty great show and I was allowed to make some really questionable life choices, like chasing after men because of my deranged, gold-digging Step Mother and my narcissistic older Sister.  But mostly Butts. 

Tina understands my predicaments.

           This weekend was eventful to say the least.  I went to a house show with some of my friends (A house show, for all you lame people out there is like a small gig for local musicians usually held at someone's house.  In this case, it was at my friend Jordan's house which is equivalent to twelve small neighborhoods.  I've had one at my house, although that was back when my friends actually had the desire to rehearse for hours until we gave birth to something that sounded like music.) 
          My friend Jordan's band is just fucking brilliant.  He's really into a lot of undergroundish type stuff, which, if looked at from a vantage point is probably going to be the equivalent of what early Punk rock was in the 1970s.   Sadly I didn't get to stay late enough to see them, (Whales), because I had to take some friends home and then head back to my own house.  My friend Molly was kind enough to pay for my gas money in quarters. 
         ON A MORE FASHIONABLE NOTE.  My good friend Tessa gave me some shorts a while back, of which I have been too lazy to fix.  But today I fixed them and the whole world was right again.  Birds were singing, my lawn was mowed, and most of all I felt pretty damn good about life, the universe and everything. 

Wow look at that I'm almost sexy.

                Those shorts are so damn cute.  I'm tempted to dye them blue, though, in order to satisfy my need for Homestuck. I'd like to thank Hendrix and my Mother for the grace of finding those shirts buried beneath age old clothing from the *gasp* 90s. (The top one is floral print, and they both include shoulder pads and ample opportunity to hint at cleavage.)  I need some white lace tights, though, and I should be set for this Texas winter.


Wednesday, October 10, 2012

The Ox


So yesterday, as we all knew, was      OCTOBER 9TH 

Also known as the BIRTHDAY
of our beloved John Entwistle. 
(Also John Lennon, but I'll leave it up to Tumblr to give tribute to the man.)


Don't hate me coz I'm beautiful
   OH JOHN.  We've had quite the history. 
My best friend loves the Who, and at the tender age of 13 I was due to have a favorite (as most Thirteen-year-olds tend to have).  And I picked you, John.  Because of dem sexy hands, dat sexy hair cut, and most importantly DAT BASS. 

          They called him Thunder Fingers; or The Ox with good reason.  Have you ever stopped to listen to the solo in "My Generation", or notice the sheer power of the bass in "Won't Get Fooled Again"?  It's the dexterity and control he's got in his hands and fingers.  It's like a fucking storm of pure energy that pushes the rest of the song forward, and i've always loved Entwistle for that reason. When I started playing bass I looked up to a lot of different players (like Geddy Lee, Les Claypool, Roger Waters, ect...) and I realized how fucking difficult it is to play using your fingers.  Using a pick is one thing, and a lot of really good bassists can pull that off, (looking at you, Noel Redding), but there's just something raw about using your fingers to play so expertly that's appealing.

                Here's a video that I personally love, which is the isolated bass track of John playing "Won't Get Fooled Again" at one of their shows in England.  I would have linked just the audio, but being able to watch somebody play makes all the difference.  For musicians, it's a chance to observe and learn.  For everyone else, it's still a hell of a lot of fun.  I always love seeing what different kinds of instruments they play, (for you gear nerds here's a list of gear that John used from 1960-66, 1967-68,  1971-74 and 1974-1985.  It's got some great pictures as well as descriptions.) 

          1.  Boris the Spider
 2.  Substitute
        3. My Generation
                    4. Won't get fooled again 
                                                                       6. Talk Dirty (solo, off of his "Too Late the Hero" album)
                                               7. Young Man Blues (Excellent performance from Keith Moon, also)
                     9.Summertime Blues

Some of my favorites. 
 I'm sure there are tons more, and if you have any to contribute I don't mind a damn bit.

         The Who was a powerful band, especially through their live performances.  There's a certain feeling to be had when you see footage like that (from what you can find these days), and you can hardly fathom what it must've felt like to see them live.  Perhaps one day, when I'm teaching Rock n Roll history, the invention of the Time Machine will have been brought into existence, and I'll take my students on a field trip to see the Who at the Isle of Wight (and maybe even stick around to see Hendrix).  
         So it is with this that the Electric Church of Rock n Roll gives it's thanks to Saint Entwistle.  He's changed bass playing throughout time, and left a standard and many lessons to be learned by future bassists and musicians alike. 


(The day before yesterday was Johnny Ramone's birthday, but I was too busy dying with this HORRIBLE COLD I have acquired to have written a decent post for the man.  I love you though, Johnny.  You gave a kickass name to all bar-chord guitarists with bowl cuts)

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Graphin' your stanky Youth

So this weekend was a good one, because I got to get shit done as well as hang out with my good friend, Tessa and take some photos.  Most of them came out rather nicely, and I'm glad I had a set put together this time (in the spare room) consisting of my Grateful Dead tapestry and some old strips of fabric I had lying around. 

Also some old girls, you know. 

I love all of Tessa's outfits.  (Well, most of them at least.  There used to be a poncho she'd wear and it made her slightly resemble a 60-something year old baglady.  I couldn't tell if the Pancho swallowed her whole and simply allowed me to imagine the rest of her body somewhere beneath it's thick fabric folds.  Sometimes I feared she was genuinely being eaten by a product of Old-Lady wear.  The thought of Talbots creating clothing designed to consume it's customers frightens me, although is not shocking because I've seen the inside of my Grandmother's closet.  I can only imagine the new methods of psychiatric evaluation they would have to develop in order to help the victims of these events.  Tessa's was more or less finding a new coat to wear instead of that hideous old one.) 

At the end of the day we were exhausted, but the rest of the shoot is up on my Flikr if you guys wanted to see. 

I've started really trying out my different apertures, and I think I'm starting to get the hang of it.  (I need better use of a tripod, though, and using a self timer will be the death of me, yet.)   I'm going to graduate to the use of 35mm film sometime soon, because recently I found out my Dad's Pentax K1000 is fucked up, although I haven't tried his Automatic Canon yet.  I think I might just buy a cheap Holga and see if my Dad's flashes will work for it. 

UGH PHOTOGRAPHY.  So rewarding when the images come out, but it's like pulling teeth getting things the way you want. 

But, like I always think, I'm getting better.  So that, at least, is keeping me from going mad. 

Saturday, October 6, 2012


Oh my gosh! I think I just accidentally deleted all of the comments I got on my posts. 
I'm so sorry you guys, I thought I was just clearing them out of my message box. 

I guess it's not such a good idea to have the "Remove Content" button right next to "Delete". 
Clear that shit up, Blogspot! 


Oh my! There are simply too many things in this fringed bag!

Her name is Eleanore.

1.  This girl needs her nail varnish

Got this shit at Urban Outfitters for $.99

I am genuinely surprised at the sheer quantities of nail polish I had in my purse.  I'm not sure if it's because I just put shit in there and forget about it, or if it's a genuine addiction to adhesive nail glitter.  Also, those two little twin bottles are SO CUTE and were on sale at the most expensive store in the world. They were marked down from a whopping 6$ to $ .99.  I feel that, sometimes, Urban Outfitters can be your sale oasis in a desert of expensive. 


Okay so that is a straight up LIE.  I do wear makeup, but minimally so if the mood strikes me.  Usually it's like... mascara or something.  But when I do wear it, I'll usually use 1 color, then the next day wonder where that color went (in my bag), shrug, and repeat.  Eventually it all accumulates into this giant pile of powdered, color affliction.  A constant that I do seem to have is my eyebrow shadow, a constant quest to ensure my expressions stay flawless. 

3.  Jesus Christ, if chapstick needed a Queen for their Empire of Moisture I would be a number-one candidate.  

Recently, and other than these pictured, I've found at least 3 different colors

How much chapstick do you need to get through the day?  The answer may differ, but apparently one is never enough.  I found (2) Blistex, (1) Spearmint Chapstick and these two motherfuckers.  
They came from Urban Outfitters along with my Nail Polish for .99cents each.  

 I may not know a whole lot, but one thing I do know is how fucking soft my lips are going to be for the rest of my life.  I'll probably be on TLC's "Hoarders" for this, some day.  Either that or in the Guinness Book of World Records for "World's Softest Lips". Someday, E of M, someday soon.  

 4. For those BRAVE enough to fight me. 



An especially cheap Swiss-army knife I got from Switzerland awaits you. 

I'm disappointed because the writing is falling off.  I really loved that thing when I got it from Europe.  If I ever go back, I'll get another one that's actually worth 10 Euro.  Also I'll have to find another Canadian, because the one I got was absolutely fabulous for as long as he lasted.  I'll have to make sure he doesn't find a girlfriend afterwards, though.  It was so fucking disappointing when that happened last time. 


A Woman's purse is like a black hole.  It will surprise you with anything and everything (including a small army of garden gnomes).  Look at those lovely erasers and Hendrix pin that Haka gave me, emphasized by the broken ACDC keychain I bought from Wal Mart a few weeks ago. The bracelet came straight from my wrist, aged and worn by my young and taut skin. 

I decided to leave out all the gum wrappers in fear that you might sample my teeth patterns and make a clone of me. 

Funny story behind this patch, actually. 
      I went to a store in Houston called Cactus Music, and saw the posters for the new Darkness album.  I begged the lady that worked there for a poster, but was shot down because, since the poster was new, she couldn't give me one.  I guess she felt sorry for me, because after my spiel of sobbing like a pubescent Beatles-fan and threatening to throw up on their vintage music magazines, she suddenly gave me this bad-ass-mother-fucking-kiss-ass patch.  So along with the 30+$ I spent on a Queen shirt and some CDs, I got this lovely patch to show for my hard work.  Now I just have to sew it onto the back of a vest and I will surely be the most excellent girl in the whole school.   

6. It's the PENPOCALYPSE. 

Pictured here is some Pentel .3mm lead for my architect pencil that I don't actually use for architecture. 
Also that is a refill for my ink-brush that actually works quite well.  I'm sure that if used correctly, you could do some pretty sick Chinese calligraphy with that pen. 

Ho-ly shit.  I had so many pens.  This is pretty much a small fraction of the sheer velocity of pens I had in my purse.  I'm pretty sure at some point you wanted to wonder whether it was the purse holding the pens, or the pens forming together an unbreakable steel bond to hold the purse together by it's sheer mass. 

I guess it may be because I'm an artist or a Junior hoarder.  (Also sometimes I'm afraid to use the pens I love most because I don't want them to run out of ink.)  Pretty lame, huh? 

Ahhhhhhhh! Purse times.  I've been meaning to do this for  awhile now.  I'll be sure to keep you folks updated with the wonders of what's inside a bag, because everyone is different.  Like for instance how I didn't have my MP3 player with me.  Maybe it's because I'm paranoid it would get stolen, ever since my phone got stolen last year I was quite angry to the point of never bringing my electronics out in public again.  You guys should let me know if you do this!  I wanna know what's in everyone else's purse!