Dirt don't hurt

Things:
*This is not my fav DP song. Not by a long shot.
*This post is mostly for my Schnarfy. (Did you see their hoods???)
*I like awkward white girl Supremes-like choreography.
*I like trees.

I thought you'd like this.

Was I right?

I'm trying to decide what today's focus should be. I was thinking it would be The Completion of Tasks Left Undone or maybe How To Be the Ball. Now I'm thinking something more along the lines of Just Don't Do Nothing Because of the Rain and Your Own Apathy.

Silly With Straight Faces

Isn't that a wonderful title? I made it up. It will be my new album or my new novel. I'll let you know. I thought of it when I was watching this video and thinking 'I like people who act silly with straight faces.'


Karl Blau. Do you want to be friends?

Stoned to the bone

Dan Deacon is really weird.

I like him.

I'm ticklish right here:

Google is my best friend.*

I googled Raccoon Orphan and this is what I got.







*Except you guys, of course. PitV til I fuckin' die.

I guess it's only right

Jay Reatard. It Ain't Gonna Save Me.


He was right, huh?
Sorry, kiddo. Better luck next lifetime?

On the way to a brand new day.

What I want from 2010:

*A more minimalistic shantyville for a bedroom.
*At least 3 good roadtrips.
*Some things that are embarrassing and therefore won't be listed.
*To join one of the following: A scrabble league, a book club or a sewing circle, though probably not a sewing circle.
*Validation, as always.

And now, three photos that are vaguely related:

Best first date, ever. Might end up married.


That's my nigga, though.


If you could have sex with scrabble... um...everyone would win?

Have I said this before?

I heart this man and his weirdo brain and his weirdo voice and his weirdo drawings. I have recently decided to begin writing fanmail. I am starting with him.

My baby blogs about me.
I blog about him, too.
If I ever told you bout Boo Boo,
You'd only say I don't know what I do.

I am watching When Harry Met Sally. I do not know what exactly, but I know it means something. Something about my mental state.

I fall to pieces.

I am getting sick again. This is bullshit.




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What is not bullshit? NYE was legit. I didn't see everyone, but some people saw everything, if you know what I mean. Here's some free association about said last day of the year:

Champagne
Peter-Pan-haircut-having-bitch
Overly hoe-like dancing in the windows of said Peter Pan's house
Bernard the elf
Barefoot walks
The psychology of low self esteem
Magic Gas


Thanks.

Oh, and here's how we looked:


You can't see it, but I'm wearing the last croptop of the year of our lord two thousand and nine.

Things I said I'd leave behind in oh-ten:
Beards
Booze
Facebook
Anything smokeable
My overwhelming attachment to stuff

Can you guess how I'm fairing?