I like him

CAN WE JUST TALK ABOUT THIS FOR A MINUTE, PLEASE

Lance Bass! Woah!

yarn bombing!

The Difference Between Criminals and Outlaws

Ha ha.
That's how Bernard's infamous response began.
"Ha ha.
"Victim? The difference between a criminal and an outlaw is that while criminals frequently are victims, outlaws never are. Indeed, the first step toward becoming a true outlaw is the refusal to be victimized.
"All people who live subject to other people's laws are victims. People who break laws out of greed, frustration, or vengeance are victims. People who overturn laws in order to replace them with their own laws are victims. (I am speaking here of revolutionaries.) We outlaws, however, live beyond the law. We don't merely live beyond the letter of the law - many businessmen, most politicians, and all cops do that - we live beyond the spirit of the law. In a sense, then, we live beyond society. Have we a common goal, that goal is to turn the tables on the nature of society. When we succeed, we raise the exhilaration content of the universe. We even raise it a little bit when we fail.
"Victim? I deplored the ugliness of the Vietnam War. But what I deplored, others have deplored before me. When war turns whole populations into sleepwalkers, outlaws don't join forces with alarm clocks. Outlaws, like poets, rearrange the nightmare. It is elating work. The years of the war were the most glorious of my life. I wasn't risking my skin to protest a war. I risked my skin for fun. For beauty!
"I love the magic of TNT. How eloquently it speaks! Its resounding rumble, its clap, its quack is scarcely less deep than the passionate moan of the Earth herself. A well-timed series of detonations is like a choir of quakes. For all of its fluent resonance, a bomb says only one word - 'Surprise!' - and then applauds itself. I love a breeze perfumed with the devil smell of powder (so close in its effect to the angel smell of sex). I love the way that architecture, under the impetus of dynamite, dissolves almost in slow motion, crumbling delicately, shedding bricks like feathers, corners melting, grim facades breaking into grins, supports shrugging and calling it a day, tons of totalitarian dreck washing away in the wake of a circular tsunami of air. I love that precious portion of a second when window glass becomes elastic and bulges out like bubblegum before popping. I love public buildings made public at last, doors flung open to the citizens, to the creatures, to the universe. Baby, come on in! And I love the final snuff of smoke.
"Yes, and I love the trite mythos of the outlaw. I love the self-conscious romanticism of the outlaw. I love the black wardrobe of the outlaw. I love the fey smile of the outlaw. I love the tequila of the outlaw and the beans of the outlaw. I love the way respectable men sneer and say 'outlaw'. I love the way young women palpitate and say 'outlaw'. The outlaw boat sails against the flow, and I love it. Outlaws toilet where badgers toilet, and I love it. All outlaws are photogenic, and I love that. 'When freedom is outlaws, only outlaws will be free': that's a graffito seen in Anacortes, and I love that. There are outlaw maps that lead to outlaw treasures, and I love those maps especially. Unwilling to wait for mankind to improve, the outlaw lives as if that day were here, and I love that most of all.
"Victim? Your letter reminded the Woodpecker that he is a Woodpecker blessed. Your sympathies for my loneliness, tension, and disturbing identity have some basis in fact and are humbly appreciated. But do not be misled. I am the happiest man in America. In my bartender's pockets I still carry, out of habit, wooden matches. As long as there are matches, there will be fuses. As long as there are fuses, no walls are safe. As long as every wall is threatened, the world can happen. Outlaws are can openers in the supermarket of life."

!!!

AAAAHAHAHA! GOTCHA!

The HBIC

As we all know, I had a little bit of an obsession with Rihanna's Rated R over Christmas break. I guess in my post-Mardi Gras stupor, I've rekindled that obsession a smidge since that album is all I've played today.




Mardi Gras, in general, was wildly successful this year. I'm sick (again) but all the festivities are over, so it's ok. I have some blank spots in my memory and only $15 to buy food for the rest of the month. But I had a kick ass time so it was all worth it. Due to the tragic demise of Tor Coolguy, my beloved digital camera, I have no pictures of anything. I am super excited for next year when Hattie lives here and we can have Mardi Gras together!

I am also excited for the next time Nick and Schuylar are in town and I get to see Nick's miffle, the definitely hot, almost certainly into me, MPO Dan.

Now I will eat some noodles, drink some tea, and crawl into my cave with a downloaded copy of the Princess and the Frog and try not to hack my lungs out.

guess what?

danielle is drunk and caleb is a skunk!
danielle is pale and caleb is a whale!
danielle eats yogurt caleb lives in steve's yurt!

smallbutt

some haikus about this picture



hahahahaha
look at his dumb coat
this show is a fart

Is the blonde girl mad?
that she stayed while others left?
maybe she loves that guy

so like tom welling
does cheaper by the dozen
and then nothing else?

remember that bald guy?
he was mad at superman
inside a crystal

people in the party hot! hot! hot!

then


nowish (not really) but later

Dinosaur Meat

February

I love this cover a lot. Don't bother watching the video, its crap, just play it and imagine you're someplace beautiful. Chase those winter blues away!



I want to dress like this all the time:



But of course I can't, because I haven't got any green tights or good shorts and also it's very cold this week. Ugh.

But Mardi Gras season has finally arrived! I am exceedingly excited (maybe too much?) for the week between the Superbowl and Mardi Gras because it means that my exams/responsibilities are over and I can just get DRUNK all the time! Yesterday, a great thing happened when I went to the bank to deposit some money into my overdrawn account: I signed a paper that makes it impossible to overdraw, and the guy gave me a refund on my overdraft! Including the fee! That means that the giant bottles of Sky Vodka and Amaretto that I bought with money I didn't have were FREE. Yessssss!

I think I might be a little too cheery for so early in the morning. Coffee.

Here's the original, just for good measure: