Simple Mathematics or; The Destroyer

Last week, I left ONE dirty egg pan in my sink. For future washing, when at some point scrubbing did not seem so horribly tedious. Two days ago, I glimpsed TWO flies congregated at my bedside lamp, buzzing their ancient histories from minutes past, en route to The End of their little fly lives. Last night, I arrived home from a relaxing day at the beach to FIFTY TRILLION FLIES. Here's a record of that mathematical breakdown: 1 + 2 = FIFTY TRILLION. A word to the wise: egg pans require immediate washing. Lest ye fall victim to the rule-breaking mathematics of the common black fly....more

[Not So] Feminine Rant

A friend and I were having a texual-based conversation last night. It went like this: ...more

Relationship 101 or; Valentine's Day is for Beginners

As I sit here, rifling through Facebook and engaging in similar Internet debauchery; wondering how the hell I'm supposed to introduce the topic of love and relationships in an "advice" setting -- considering the chance that I may be way out of my league, overreaching, or generally "out of line" -- I somehow rifled my way to this image: ...more

Playing With Fire


Psycho Babble

Yesterday I called The Mother on three separate occasions, only to be unknowingly answered each time by her butt, Douchetooth, or any of the other technological advances we've devised to bi-pass the highly inconvenient human task of answering the phone by pushing a button. At any rate, each time one of these intervening factors connected my phone to her purse or whatever, I became an anonymous ear to her very intense, very uncomfortable, very PUBLIC conversation. ...more

The Evolution of Glitter

I had a Dr. Pepper today. For about 10 seconds I was 12 again, crinkling bags of Cheetos, drinking cans of the 23 flavors and eyeing a package of Skittles on standby. The afternoons I spent watching The Mother wrangle pre-teens into aprons and the concept of color theory were where I developed an affinity for vending machines and Einstein bagels. Also glitter, magic markers, and hitting my brother in the balls for fun. I feel bad about that one now. ...more

Unintentional Normalcy

I love newly-minted college art students. The archetype of a college art class never fails to fulfill the mold in its entirety, with the bulk of its form being made up of those gut-wrenchingly endearing weirdos. Those on a never-ending race to be the weirdest of the weird. The ones that started weird in High School and take it as an opportunity to capitalize on their weirdness, with the idea that whomsoever wears their cat ears or their black eyeliner the hardest becomes the actualization of that mentality. And in turn, art itself. ...more