i love this so much

Beastie Boys |MTV Music

i've been looking up conspiracy theories for my media and society class. one struck me in particular. apparently in 1966, paul mccartney was involved in a fatal car accident in which he was decapitated and secretly buried in liverpool. the remaining members of the the band decided that they would not allow the public to know and would replace him with a man who looked just like paul. there are a multitude of points to prove this theory, and i'm sure sir paul has had plenty of laughs over it, but i can't help but wonder what he really thinks of all of these rumors. outside of what a p.r. manager told him to tell the press. of course it's ridiculous, but at the end, you have to ask, why are people having to come up with stories about my death? am i not that interesting. am i so pedestrian that i must have my own death faked and sensationalized in order for my charm to survive? poor guy, it's bad enough he had to put up with heather mills, but i had no idea that he was constantly having to deflect these rumors of his own death.

here are some of my favorite videos about the conspiracy:

superpoop.com

this should not play on mtv so early in the morning. very distracting

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$200? what am i, rockafeller?

so apparently, it's going to cost $200 to have our heat turned on. kelly and i will now be putting on an abridged version of "pippin" in our apartment.

tips are welcome.


i was in the 3d studio until 4 a.m. working on this stupid project that's due today. just woke up to go back and finish it. got an email from ralph. class is cancelled.


shiiiiiiiiiiiit.


meanwhile, my blanket continues to shed on my computer. little blue fuzzies are ubiquitous in my life lately. if only my heat was turned on.

yo palin, they were making fun of you to your face.

happy birthday pg wodehouse


"She looked like something that might have occured to Ibsen in one of his less frivolous moments."

Summer Lightning (1929)


last week in a town in italy named marino, residents found wine coming out of their faucets that was intended for the fountain in the town named quattro mori. apparently it was a mishap in the plumbing, but i vote that it was bacchus.

ciao

i'm better. note to the wise, a fever, lunesta, and an itch to document leads to very honest writing, sheepish beware.

buuuuuut,
delay delay delay.

this is what i do best. i hear my mother's eyes rolling around in her head.

so much due, nothing done.
i can't help but think i'm delaying because it's a professor that i know likes me. not in a weird mary kay laterno way, but in a transcendent, i am my art my art is me, he likes what i create, he therefore likes me.



i almost exchanged two words, procrastination for delay and love for like. but they are both so coarse sounding and trite.

oscar wilde sez: "fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months."

i want new shoes, incidentally. these, actually:


buy them for me?

i'm not transparent. rarely do i allow people to know everything going on in my life.

i need full disclosure.

i'm a miserable failure. everything was seemingly, ripped away from me at the beginning of summer and i saw everything fly out of my hands, far from my control. i don't handle a lack of control the way most people do. the typical "control freak" would fume and then plot ways on how to divide and conquer to regain the control. but for me, the minute the control is gone, will and motivation and a touch of dignity decide they want greener pastures. gee baby, ain't i been good to you? and now, as things have been handed to me, the runner-up prizes as i like to call them, i am so apathetic. i have been handed the ability to go to school for a semester for nearly free. i have a job that i do nothing in, but it will look kick ass on a resume', and i still have a good bit of friends left over on this campus. but anytime i'm sitting in this shithole of an apartment, i am reminded that i am the girl who obviously is here for bizarre reasons, reasons which will more than likely affect the rest of her life.

i was trying to think of who might come back and check on this blog every once-in-a-while. drew, dad and gray maybe? are you still there? i very well could pick up a phone and find out if gray is still there. i always know where my dad is, right in my little heart. drew, you're far across the ocean, not around the corner with a cup of coffee, cigarette and a comforting word. just a few bleeps and bloops on facebook or gchat. lets work on that.

a prayer for my friends near and far and even farther

ali emily beth kate claire drew jack gray brandon andrew

daviddaviddaviddaviddavid



i should go watch postseason with hobbie

marriedtothesea.com

i don't think that reviews have changed that much over the years