The Neapolitan.

Every year I mock Terrence for his t-shirt tans aka farmer tans and he only recently began to try harder to ward them off, i.e. applying sunblock occasionally. Earlier this Summer I joked with him about putting sunblock on the already tan parts of his upper body and leaving the rest to catch up in color. I guess I said it enough because Monday at the beach he actually did it. Halfway into it he said he was going to quit and apply sunscreen as a precaution since he had started to feel he’d had enough sun, but got sidetracked and forgot. Needless to say we spent the entire time at the beach with him only half blocked.

I was just teasing him after looking through some of the photos I had taken, I decided he can be some sort of circus sideshow attraction, “The Amazing Sunburned Man”. I think we could make a decent cash flow.

But all joking aside I really do feel sorry for him, the poor guy can barely move without bellowing in pain. Aside from his own vanity he did only do it because of my constant mockery of his hideous farmer tan. HAHA! No, it is still kind of funny. Maybe it’s because I don’t know what a sunburn feels like, being that I’m Hispanic I don’t burn in the sun, I brown. I also didn’t put sunblock on as a show of solidarity, Terrence is always wishing I would tan a little so he can show off his dark and exotic Spanish girlfriend. I got one shade browner almost instantly… no pain, no wait, no disgusting peeling.

I’m actually slightly excited to peel Terrence, I think it’s fun. It satisfies that child in me that poured glue all over her hands to peel it back in large pieces. Oh, the excitement.

My new friend Krazy Glue.

Wednesday night I fell asleep watching television in bed when some time in the middle of the night I woke up to turn it off and officially go to sleep. I reached for the remote, after which I went for my glasses and noticed something a bit odd. It was the feeling of my left speck arm falling by my neck instead of following the rest of my glasses towards my “night stand” (crate of records). Why!? I was so ticked off I couldn’t sleep the rest of the night and even had to go to work in a 7 year old pair that made me want to puke all day long. Since that day my new best friend has become this tube of instant Krazy Glue that Terrence brought home for me. The arm has since fallen again to dismemberment but I will continue to mend it until I can afford a new pair. It’s depressing because I have to tap into my camera savings for this sudden necessity. I’m currently doing my research for an even more awesome pair of cateye lenses… of course in the red variety since I now have a trademark to uphold. So much for my terrific Nikon. Stupid pillow.

Lips that touch swine…

I’m tired of taking the train with a group of people that look ready to perform surgery… or Man in the Mirror for that matter.  People are too paranoid for their own good.  Everywhere I turn people are misinformed and bug eyed with the fear of dying from eating bacon or rubbing up against some stranger.  So I decided to do a photo shoot depicting what I see whenever I walk out my front door.  I’m contemplating going out and purchasing a rubber pig snout and wearing it to and from work everyday.  Not that I’m making light of this serious matter… or maybe I am, I’m just an asshole.

Making Usually Unjustified Or Excessive Claims.

my camera makes me sick. it once made me feel empowered… now it makes me feel like a pretentious little brat following the pack of brats back to the land of Fotoshopia. ugh…

it’s so dusty. sometimes i see things in a very Velveteen Rabbit-esque point of view. i imagine that my camera that sits on my bookshelf along with the dusty political rants mutters to the dusty bowling trophy that mutters to the dusty Mr. Potato head that mutters to the tattered bible of how much of a bitch i am for neglecting them. once held in such high regard, now reduced to filler. i feel that the camera is the eternal optimist, the trophy, the hateful realist constantly putting the camera down. like the Brave Little Toaster still filled with nostalgic wonderment of the “Master” my camera dreams that one day i’ll hold it again and embrace it and fill it with “art”. the trophy reminds it that i have a new digicam like all the cool pretentious art school brats. “who needs you now.” poor camera. i feel bad that the idea of taking my self seriously makes my stomach weak. the further away i stray from my high school dream the more i’m reminded how much i hate life. ugh… i’m ranting aren’t i?

I Didn’t Mean It!


so when i said “C U Next Tuesday” over a week ago i didn’t mean it literally, i was just trying to avoid overusing my potty mouth. but in fact i did not see my books until next Tuesday, ugh. but it was nice, it only took me sicking Terrence on UPS and Amazon.com to get them in my possession. two day shipping means nothing to these people. but at least i have my books and am now a happy camper.

so i ordered a new camera through them on Monday night… i wonder how long those two days will be.