it is now fifteen dollars to get into the moma. i hope you love art.
shit faces.
F-U MOMA!
WTF!WTF!WTF! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! SERIOUSLY. WTF. $15. 15 BUCKS. CLAMS. DUCKETS. BILLS. CHIPS. 15 OF THEM? JUST TO GET INSIDE OF YOU? ARE YOU SERIOUS. YOU'RE JOSHING ME. YOU'RE TOTALLY KIDDING WITH MY BALLS RIGHT NOW. WTF.
i thought...
this page could use some color after all the black and whiteness. go support Sarah Applebaum and receiver gallery. it looks like an amazing experience. i need to go. keep your ears unplugged for the artist talk. i skipped the Porous Walker one out of shyness and laziness. they had cookies! why'd i go and do that for. gosh.
time changes things. but tex stays the same.
it's funny to think that little red riding hood is basically a story about a thieving pedophile rapist. funny.
a chair free on the streets!
not this one, but the one i just found! hey! did i tell you?! i just found an awesome sweet rad ass sturdy solid wood amazingly rad ass chair on the streets while going to buy potato chips and salad fixings?! i mean the chair above is truly boss, but mine is better cause my butts been in it.
tomorrow!
for sure? i got to get busy. got a room to clean, well three, but mines is the most important. got a mini desk table to move into room (so hyped, so cute, soooo free!) gotta get some fresh air. got some groceries to buy to eat. got some books to scan through. got some sketching to do. got some books to go lust over (pictured below). got some life to be living. tomorrow is monday. tomorrow better fucking be great or i'm gonna lynch it!
gallery sitting.
scanning brysons work. well watching malea scan bryson's work. not thinking about hunger. wiping my snotty nose. only checking my phone for missed calls twice instead of fifteen times. pushing away thoughts of uselessness. talking to malea about dying from eating to much ramen. looking for red dots with leef. updating facebook. not understanding facebook. hating facebook. reading. cleaning. cleaning elyse's mirrors. cleaning the bathroom, kinda. sweeping the office and gallery floor. organizing the snake pit of cords and wires. fixing the not broken, but no working main laptop. catching alika's drawing mid air before it landed on the floor from the wall. waving to people as they come into the space. nailing a tack back into the wall for oliver's drawing. being jealous of jesse and katie being able to go to the mission book sale. being jealous of anyone breathing. watching little brat kids play around gallery a-stand. explaining to drunk guy whispering in spanish that i cant understand him. hoping dangerous does walk through that door and pretend to have a seizure. figuring out what i'm going to do for dinner. typing. sitting. slouching. lusting over art. organizing flat files. work of michelle blade, james bradley, alika cooper, bryson gill. stopped at fourth drawer. sneezed five times.
things that i would hate.
to have:
herpes.
dandruff.
poison ivy, again.
unemployment.
hunger.
aids.
depression.
bad indian food.
a burrito with pinto beans instead of black.
rope burn.
carpet burn.
sun burn.
stress.
a boring life.
addiction to stuff. ie. porn, crack or vomiting.
things that i would like.
to have:
employment.
nice boyfriend.
healthy diet.
good haircut.
hardwood floors in my bedroom.
picture frames, varying sizes.
some ice cream.
a budding art collection.
a busy schedule.
something to do.
someone to do?
new shirts.
new pants.
new shoes.
the usb cord to charge my mp3 player.
hollywood babylon 1.
a clean/ fine free record at the berkeley, san francisco & oakland library.
a snot free nose.
a slice of pizza.
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