Ludie and I had the perfect idea last year to go on a fantastic-o blast-ic-o road trip to the Neverland Ranch a la Michael Jackson and film the whole shabang. I guess that will never be an option again, though, which is sad, because it was going to be brilliant. It was among one of the many things I first discussed with the Big I (including smegma, which is some sort of thing conversational legends are made of, not to mention cheesy discharge). Long story short (too late), I blabbered on & on about our upcoming feature documentary on Michael. And now I'm sure ol' MJ won't be inviting any unwelcome guests in any time soon - what with all the bad, bad, bad publicity. I wonder if he's going to kill himself. I wonder if we should take a poll on how many people think he's going to commit suicide soon. For the children. Of the world. (Ha ha - that's a New Kids on the Block song - and that site is ri-di-cu-lous - it actually says that Jonathan Knight "has got the right stuff now." Ohhhh the belittling laughter! Shit jeeb!)
When I was in France, we visited the Fragonard Parfumerie, and I bought this perfume. Now, the standing rule is that before the motherfucker runs out, I must go back to France to buy some more. The only problem with this "promise" is that I wear the perfume so, so seldomly, that the damn thing isn't running out at all. How can I keep up with my arbitrary and financially-binding rules, that I put upon myself, when I can't even stick to the first part - the easy part? Huh???? And if I can order it online, what the hell is the point in keeping these sorts of rules alive? Why can't I go back to France because I really, really liked it? HUH????
Random, random things:
* I love Stephan Britt's illustrations. There's even a bright yellow t-shirt! Yay! (This guy is wicked too).
* I had the weirdest, weirdest dreams last night that included not only Laura Muffin, but this dude that I went to high school with who is nowhere to be found nowadays. Don't worry - it wasn't a slutty, cover-your-firstborn's-ears kind of dream ("Earmuffs!") - it was a going-to-a-party dream. Anyway, I think it's because this other dude I went to high school with gave me a ride home yesterday.
* No, no, no, Moche, no! Yes, yes, yes, Chicken-fried steak, yes!
C'est ca! Avez un merveilleux jour!