Zine. No apostrophe, just zine. Like tween, but not irritating.
My parking lot at work and my car (which is dying and needs more bumper stickers).
Some bricks (not pictured) and cement blocks. I really tried to make it interesting. I did.
The woman who cooks everything in the coffee shop downstairs. Recently she's been working all alone and I wonder about her husband and loud girl friend that help her out.
I don't like these pictures very much. But when I look back at them later maybe I'll know exactly why I didn't like 'em then. . . well okay, maybe the second concrete block one is fun.
And philosophy's so stupid. If philosophy was a guy, he'd be very lonely, unemployed and talking to himself on the street.
. . .
And recently, I've just wanted to start over my life. Call everyone up and tell them I'm a new person. Change my name, my street address and social security number. Identity is the trickiest thing without a soundtrack.
I think I really want to be a new person without any of the tedious self-improvement bullshit. And I kinda miss my past (if that makes any sense).
But Amy Sedaris (star of Strangers With Candy, brother of acclaimed NPR hero David Sedaris) was on Conan last night and made me laugh so hard I almost cried. Just giving Martha Stewart a squirrel bong to hold was enough.
“And He established a natural order of things, just to give people something to complain about.”
And hope you're all okay too. = )