what the fuck is LIFE?
in trying to deal with some major "last night" anxiety recently (you know.. desperately trying to convince myself that it's OKAY to be myself and i am JUST myself) i discovered that up until JUST THAT VERY MOMENT, i had never fully realized that i was a part of the world. 
duuuuude, deep. 
what i say is what "people" say, what i do is what "people" do. i am not invisible - they all can see me. 
 shit, man. it hit me like a bag of moldy doughtnuts... people can see my face. ew. holy shit. they might even recognize me. gross. they can hear me when i speak, they remember what i say. 
what the fuck is life?
and what about all the fucking bombs? and poisonous gas? and leaky killer nuclear poison? just what about that? what about cancer, and dying, and babies coming out of my best friend's vagina?!? 
date rape and drones. russia. incurable diseases. diarrhea and diabetes. grammar mistakes, student loans, impotence and HPV. wasted dreams, un-tapped talent. BUNIONS! chapped lips. 
what the fuck is life? 



did my nails the other night. yeah, i know. alert the media.
i'm sittin' here in monday. guts full of shit and head full of pain. the human body is a beautiful thing.... so they say. i'm pretty sure the vessel i have is some kind of suit on loan from space.
everyday it wakes up. and it breathes. without any help from me.
it's a miracle. 
i start cosmetology school on october first. i'll be working my "ass in a chair all fucking day" job from 8-5 and school 5:30-9:30 during the week. AND SCHOOL ALL DAY SATURDAY FROM 9-5pm. cry for me, argentna. bye bye life. soon it'll be all asshole waxing, hair dying and nail filing. and i can't hardly wait.
well, i can. and i am. i'm waiting in fart clouds of anxiety. every night i lay my big mousy head down to sleep... and she won't do. instead she comes up with insane looks and performance ideas. she makes little brain sweats thinking of all the thing she's gong to soon be learning. i want to be an esthetician. i want to dye my hair. i want to smoke all of the weed. i want to FUCK. i want to be.  i want to be a rockstar. i want to do burlesque. i want to move to san franciso. i want to be ass skinny ass fiona apple. i want new shoes, i want to make shoes. i want to make shoes out of fiona apple.
oy. see how i am? this brain of mine. 
took jennie chaps and her friend-in-town to trannyshack on friday. ass always, the show was incredible. drunk jillian thoroughly enjoyed herself, the little dear. 
i spent saturday bleaching hair and watching movies. really, there's no better way to spend a day. we took johnny from box black (and eggplant and blue) to platinum. one hell of a process and one hell of a good time. bowie bless us all, i love everyone.
ALMOST EVERYONE. almost all of you.
no, YOU the MOST and in particular.
if you were able to make it thru my ramblings, thank you. my face, brain and anxiety farts appreciate it. 
this is what i look like, now.
i know it's been a while. i have BROWN hair.
isn't it foul?

hearts farts and horseshoes,



five six nine, damn she GRIME

naturally, i'm posting bout events in all kinds of non-chron order.
two weekends ago? what the fuck is time? i have no idea when this all went down and i ain't even mad about it. so? get this. friday night we had our First Church show. party party party. then saturday night was a dark room. oy, party party party. then sunday was up your alley. fun fun fun. the photo below is a picture of ME at dark room. subtle beauty for a subtle lady.
it was a painted, drippy mouth of a weekend. 
lets. do. it. again. 
(without the food coloring, thank you)
(because it tastes like "what the fuck" and i was shitting green for a week) 
if you're around san francisco, YOU GO to dark room. it's one of those places where everyone is sickeningly beautiful and thank FUCK they don't wear g'damn glow sticks or furkinis. get in where you fit in, as they say. and if you don't fit in anywhere...
you come sit at my table. 
 (a snap before my pants got wasted)

goodbye forever


i am suh fhucking buhred i can't hardly take it//it boggles my imagination//
been staring at a wall for 6 hours//3 more to go

fuck, dude. now i remember why i started this shitty little thing in the first place. 
office works fer jerks.  jaysus fuck.
so? i'll tell you so.
i went to dore alley this year // UP YOUR ALLEY
as they call it.

 and there you have it, folks. a dripping guhd time.

"who is that handsome man licking your tongue?" you're likely drool-asking your computer screen. well! i'm not going to sit here and not tell you. his name is JOHNNY ROCKITT.
johnny isn't just beautiful to look at. he's pretty on the inside, too. i am truly blessed to have met him, and double triple blessed to be able to call him a friend. 


five six seven gettin' throat cancer suckin' all the dicks in heaven
shit, give me a moment to get back into the swing of things. OK?
here's my ass:
 remember that whole BOWIE BAND thing? it's real. and it's still goin' strong. we played a mASSive show a few weeks back. i'm still flyin' high. here are some snaps of pic for you to enjoy while i figure out how to entertain you. xo
uncle sally and her legs
the boys in the band
(all the above photos are by the very talented emi stanley

here's something odd for you to chew on.
when i was a kid, i thought that all the poop that hung out inside your body hung out inside your butt cheeks. i was a brilliant child. so? so logically, if you pooped, your butt cheeks would deflate.
this is what i thought.
and now that i'm old, i know better. and i say PRAISE HIM!
if our butt cheeks flattened out like a sat on whoopie cushion every time we dropped a deuce... well? just where would we be?
nowhere. that's where. 

here are some more photos
 the diamond dolls
oh we! we have such a good time. 

goodbye forever