Monthly Archives: March 2009

I haven’t had time to watch this all the way through, but they seem like they’re both talking really slowly the whole time: kinda comprehendible!!

Oh, no, no, oh, no, no

  • I’m going out of town this week so I’m just gonna throw up a coupla memo to myself style links to tide over the hungry ghosts who kiss the greasy folds of this blog while I’m gone. I’m not talking about you, you’re a perfect little butter-bean, but I know you read the new york times and don’t need to see an update from this greasy blog every week to feel like the internet is doing its thing. I’m talking about the hungry ghosts. Don’t worry about them. They can’t touch you. They’re like IRC “bots”
  • I enjoyed the Ian Parker NYer piece on Iceland and then JB was like “Oh ho but have you read this Michael Lewis Vanity Fair one? It’s  better.” TBR
  • This blog post deserves some sort of award
  • — not too shabby — steve earle’s kid — does a righteous Replacements cover
  • stumbled across (NOT UPON) this dude’s blog the other day in a real ass-handed backward/-woods way. he’s got good taste and is a fun/fine writer. “whatever”
  • not too sweet, not too british, just right: the coral
  • what does “chips and chops” mean?
  • 4043636
  • when i get back to town on monday i will be a rabbi and a dog-owner

Noodles in the Morning

THE BELIEVER: Describe your typical day.

AI WEIWEI: My typical day is I wake up and appreciate that I can still wake up. If it’s possible, I will have some noodles in the morning and start talking to people, start to think about a few things in my head—the project or a few ideas which are not finished or if there are possible directions and what will lead into another game. It’s always like setting up some kind of game you can continuously play. I also spend a lot of time talking to journalists. If I really have nothing to do, I just watch my cats, take some photos, and go back to my personal blog.

(Interview with Ai Weiwei, the Believer, Nov/Dec 2007.)


  • better than party shuffle: just organize everything by “track number,” then listen to all the “track 12″s in a row. jammin’
  • try writing a book! pretend like you are the opposite gender! think about college, what was THAT all about?
  • books with “sex” in a list-of-threes in their subtitles, e.g. “sex, death, and the american strip mall.” snooze!!!
  • kafka’s “metamorphosis”-style short story where I am riding my bike to work and a Latino gentlemen wolf-whistles and says “¡Heyyy, mamacíta!” and I think, “that’s odd, it almost sounded like he was speaking to me“. Then a little further a young indie-rock guy pointedly oggles my butt as I’m rolling through the intersection of s. van ness and 26th st, and I think, “hmmm, that fellow didn’t look gay, I wonder if there’s something stuck to my ass”. Then I walk into my office and everyone stares at me with erotic unrecognition. Ronfred, the sassy robot receptionist asks, “Can I help you, miss?” I have woken up to find that I’ve been turned into a woman!! nightmare!!!
  • I’ve added Eugene Mirman’s Brooklyn Restaurant Reviews from Stay Free! magazine to the blogroll at right because I think it is an important piece of 21st-century literature and I want it to always be accessible from this web page.
  • this post was written on march 17, at 5:30 p.m., but I’ve pointlessly “programmed” it to “go live” on Mar. 21th at 23:02. bye
  • update: I changed my mind and it is being posted “now”. The tipping point? Chris Cobb has a photoey blog!



A quick brown fox stands before a sleeping dog. The dog whimpers and twitches in REM. He kicks his leg, pursuing a sexy dreamhound across a purple moor. The fox finds herself feeling attracted to the sleeping dog. Lazy dog, she thinks. What made you so tired? You’ve been screwing with squirrels and sleeping all day; is that what wears you out? She’s becoming aroused, and shakes her head. Almost immediately she loathes the dog, who lets out a slow, bass-trumpet fart. Who are you kissing in your dreams, lazy dog?

She could have anyone she wants. She’s a fox. And yet she wants this ugly, lazy dog. She’s disgusted with herself. She feels thirsty. The river is a mile away. She has too much self-respect to jump in for no reason. Maybe a reason will present itself. Maybe she’ll find a mouse, and chase it to the river and dive in with her mouth open, swallowing it down with a mouseful of water and some grass.

She starts walking toward the water. The sleeping dog lies in her path. Effortlessly she leaps over him, breaking into a trot as she lands.


Do you think the author drank coffee before writing this story?

Did the author go to a public or private high school?

How many times per week do you think the author feels “actual hunger”?

How many hours of sleep do you think the author got on the day he wrote this story?

Shouldn’t there be multiple dogs? The author must have realized this only after writing the story, and then been too lazy to go back and add a dog to make it right. Lame.

Why is the fox named “Qwerty”? Is that a pretty name? Do you think the fox is attractive? Did you unconsciously ascribe boobs to the fox?

Write a 500-word response paper about the influence of Creedence Clearwater Revival on a non-musical artwork.

pounded into pumice

DOUG: [On phone] Can I get an order for pick-up?

JANET: [Separated by a wall; on phone] Go ahead?

DOUG: I’d like a salted pumice sheath, eight crabtree and evelyns, and a dickless massage?

JANET: [Writing it down] One sheath… crabtree and evelyn, and… We don’t have dickless massages today.

DOUG: OK… do you have steamed BBQ pork buns?

JANET: Yes. Are you vegetarian?

DOUG: [ashamed] Yeah….

JANET: [Laughing; she is perfect] That’s OK, I’m joking, we have them.

DOUG: Thank you.

JANET: OK, that’s gonna be… $42.36. Pork is expensive.

DOUG: I understand. Thank you.

JANET: OK, ten minutes, bye bye!!!!