Archive for June, 2010
Posted by: ZeBekgarbage
“All Is Vanity”
by C. Allan Gilbert
I’m a Vanity Whore as you can see;
Me in the Mirror @ The Magic Castle.
I remember being scared to look in the mirror for too long when i was young. I was scared of BLOODY MARY! Remember that shit? Getting dared to go in the bathroom at school and do it alone or with one other friend that had cajones? Fuck that, i’m still scared, but that doesnt stop me from dancing in my chonies in front of the mirror. :)
My big sis always had a cool old vanity in her room when i was a kid. She’s 15 years older than me so i looked way up up up to her. Now i’m old enough to have to furnish my own 2 bedroom apt. that i share with my big black pussy and any friend that needs a place to crash. Even though i’m able to travel the world and eat awesome organic foods at home it doesn’t mean I’m a rich bitch. I dont really spend $ on clothes, and i shop for all my furnishings via hand me downs, craigslist, and the Salvation Army! Hover over my photos to learn a little about getting dope shit for a low price.
I’m telling you, new furniture is so not kool. Ikea is boooring. Old and used furniture is more like a hot MILF with personality. Recycling your furniture by making it someone else’s or your own treasure is rich, biiitch.
I wasn’t calling you a bitch. ;)
Posted by: Sean Smith
garbage girls, et al.-
i had a really nice weekend, because i didn’t spend any of it at home. i have about one more week here and then i’m off to encino- no more loud, whiny, spoiled children, no more annoying yapping and barking (not to mention the dogs), no more sanctimonious pothead roommate… yeah, i’m kind of looking forward to it. and fuck it, this saturday, i’m going back to the canoga park motel 6 to fuck off even further.
one thing about the pothead roommate- potheads are stupid in general but this one’s head is especially full of misconceptions and pop culture drivel. she is a dancer and a negro, so her frivolous, militantly vapid attitude is to be expected- i have in fact never met anyone both so self-involved and yet so completely uninteresting. anyone who doesn’t think that marijuana abuse stunts a person’s emotional growth needs to talk to this broad for a minute- within 60 seconds, you’ll realize that you’re talking to a woman in her 40s who has the emotional maturity of a teenager- not one word spoken is meant to communicate, but rather to convey a pretense and an attitude, that pretense being “i’m right because everyone is dumb”. between she and the spoiled ass children in this house, my stay in west hills has reconfirmed two beliefs i’ve held since i was five years old: 1. women are fucking awful, and 2. never EVER have kids.
last saturday i couldn’t take these fucking people anymore and so i got a motel room. it was the best $65 i’ve ever spent. i cranked the air conditioner up to 50, i got 12 hours of sleep, i watched 5 hours of law and order reruns, and i wasn’t woken up once by anyone’s temper tantrums. i miss motel living.
look, there have been only a handful of women who aren’t just-friends who i can tolerate on a daily basis. of course, one of them committed suicide, another fled the state, another is in jail, and another was married when we were recreating our genitals upon each other (ie “fucking”). but the one i should have stayed with, the one who kept me sane during my first stint in rehab, the one i affectionately referred to as “cute nerdy chick” is still out there, somewhere.
she’d lived in a woman’s sober living house around the corner from my first rehab. we met at some narcotics anonymous meeting. because i was a “desk man”, i could sign out on my own to go to meetings- ordinarily, you’d have to sign out with another inmate, go to the meeting, stand in a corner with the other rehab jerkoffs, most of whom would behave obnoxiously as a way to assert the presence upon the women there. it was 5th grade all over again and i wanted none of it, so as soon as i could get a job at the desk, i took it.
the n.a. meeting i went to was at noon at a goddamn church. in rehabs and sober living houses, you typically have to make between 3 and 5 meetings per week and get signatures from the secretaries of the meetings to prove you showed up and actually stayed through the end of the damn thing. within a week of spending as much time together and on the phone as we could, we stopped going to the meeting altogether and forged the signatures- this way, we could spend more time together and being bad for each other. i can say from experience that being in a stick-up-the-ass, conservative, christian, all-men’s rehab is made a lot easier when you’re fucking the coolest girl in the world.
our relationship was pretty controversial because the people in my rehab who had met her thought she was my niece. to be fair, that’s what i’d told them. my “niece” and i would hold hands and make out in the day room during visiting hours. “fuck ’em”, i figured, “they’re all fundamentalist christians anyway- half of these niggas are probably inbred. i bet they’ve fucked a lot worse than relatives. i saw ‘deliverance’, i know how they work.”
now, it’s true that at the time, i was already in love with a 17 year old who lived about 3000 miles away and whom i’d never met (i was 29). but i resented that she had her own life, so when c.n.c. came into mine, i was completely devoted. when you’re used to drinking constantly and doing tons of drugs, and then, for whatever foolish reason, you stop, you want to give your heart away- here, YOU deal with this bullshit.
so yeah, one time, we were at one of the more obnoxious AA cult meetings- me, c.n.c. and my homeboy greg, a short, 50 year old, foul-mouthed, hilarious, hyperactive, meth addicted filipino, probably the coolest friend i’ve ever had- and we were drawing on coffee cups in order to ignore the people who were talking. we were actually forced to go to this particular meeting, and AA-holes, being the attention crazed, melodramatic wankers that they are, get really officious when they have a captive audience. the only way to deal with them is to use bad parent protocol and ignore them.
greg was spending an undue amount of time on his drawing, and would slap me whenever i tried to look at it. “EEET ISN’T FINISHED YET, YOU FUCK YOU, SHIT.” when he was finally done, a wide, sinister grin appeared on his filipino face, and he proudly presented his opus to c.n.c. and i. we were in awe of the detail and the obscenity. “LOOK!” he said, interrupting the AA speaker, “DAT DOG EES FUCKING DAT OTHER DOG IN THE ASS!”
c.n.c. sprayed coffee all over the table and exploded with laughter, her goofy glasses falling into my lap. i don’t think i have ever been so in love in my life.
i wouldn’t be surprised if she was dead- alcoholic pill freaks who like the occasional heroin don’t have very long shelf lives, and she’d relapsed before i fled rehab. she was so sweet and awkward and wonderful that she could break your heart just by being nearby. she wasn’t like all of the other mindless, vulgar attitude monsters in this town. she was, what’s the word… feminine. anyway, if any of you bitches know a melissa who is about 27 years old and looks like a brunette kate winslet in “heavenly creatures” (with big, goofy glasses and an undue love for rose melberg), hunt her down for me- i miss being in love.
and i REALLY miss vicodin.
Posted by: RLO
Happy Hump [Birf]day to the genius that is thee <3 In the event of my Demise when my heart can beat no more I Hope I Die For A Principle or A Belief that I had Lived 4 I will die Before My Time Because I feel the shadow’s Depth so much I wanted 2 accomplish before I reached my Death I have come 2 grips with the possibility and wiped the last tear from My eyes I Loved All who were Positive In the event of my Demise -2pac
R to-the-L-O <3
Posted by: Deja
Deja Mae said, “Billie Holiday was a Goddess, her voice is magic.
I never knew what this song was about ’til tonight…Gut wrenching meaning, and insanely haunting. I cried when i read the back story, it’s devastating. The scariest part is that it was, at one time, the reality. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strange_Fruit “
Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black body swinging in the Southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Pastoral scene of the gallant South,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh!
Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
Posted by: LYNette
Sorry I’ve been AWOL for so long. I missed the Zine! Good news and bad news, folks.
Good: I got a job!
Bad: I moved to NJ… The armpit of the East Coast…
Remember how I went to college and got my degrees in environmental policy and entomology?
(That’s me and The Dean.)
Well, I tried to get a job in SF dealing with environmental policy but failed. At the end of the day, the buglies saved me – I am now working as a research entomologist for a mid-sized private pest control company. Before you stop reading and being my friend, the company I work for is NOT Terminix or Orkin. It’s a family-owned company where they are very conscious of the environment, and are always looking for ways to reduce pesticide use… hence why they wanted yours truly!
My job as a research entomologist is to “streamline and increase efficiencies of operations” – that is, make everyone better at what they do and more knowledgeable in their fields, and experiment with new ways to control buglies. Good stuffs so far, everyone. And I will occasionally post things that I think are neat about my work or bugs.
NJ is not Cali… Feel free to mail me pieces of home! I am an hour away from NYC and Philly, so I have a lot of x-plooring to do (pixtures to follow at some point).
Imagine most of the area looking like this:
Oil spills are never cool. They are death for our environment in so many ways, even 20 years after it’s happened (like, the Exxon-Valdez spill in Alyeska. The Gulf of Mexico already deals with an immense amount of environmental stress:
1. Hypoxia causing deadzones because residue from agricultural pesticides and fertilizers from Midwestern states drain into the Mississippi Delta into the Gulf. Imagine if the ocean were rotting and all the fish and goodness in the sea die because there’s no oxygen to breathe – that’s what the “deadzone” is.
2. Urban development throughout the Gulf coast in Louisiana and Alabama and the loss of wetlands. There are lots of nutrients and plants because the freshwater from the Mississippi River mingles with the salty ocean water to provide habitat for a diverse species of animals, especially birds and fish. Wetlands also provide a natural barrier to buffer hurricanes and floods – experts KNOW that Katrina would not have been so devastating if the Big Easy had more wetlands.
3. Fishing, fisheries, etc. A lot of seafood comes from the Gulf, and is harvested in a sustainable way and supports many local fishers and families. However, the larger fisheries and clam diggers deplete the fish from the region via bottom trawling and ruin the underwater landscape by destroying habitat for various marine life.
All that with oil on top and under the waters! So the BP corporate heads and engineer geeks think they have the situation all under control – highly, highly doubtful. The oil industry has spent millions of dollars on over 700 lobbyists in Washington, DC to convince our senators and congressmen that off-shore drilling is a necessity.
So what can we do? Use less petroleum products! I’m not just talking about driving fuel-efficient cars. I’m talking about not using one-time plastic water bottles, bringing your own stylish reusable bags to the grocery store AND to other stores (like when you shop for clothes and stuff), and cutting back on the amount of plastic products you buy.
Plastic isn’t classy, folks. Stick with wood or metal! Plastic bags are officially banned from California. – kinda. I highly advise you to B.Y.O.B. – Bring Your Own Bag – to stores because they’ll only have paper or you’ll be charged a nickel for each plastic bag you use. Think that’s harsh? A lot of other countries throughout Europe and Asia have been doing this for years! We’re just now catching up (California, that is). 19 billion plastic bags are used every year in California alone!
Here are some cool ways you can upcycle plastic bags to make an iSG-esque fashion statement:
If you have bottled water in your fridge, shame on you. I hope you at least re-use and recycle those bottles. This, I’ll save for another post.
Leave me a comment and welcome me back! I will send you non-plastic “garbage.”
I love you all, and I’ve missed my soap box so so much…
Back on the Soap Box,