Tuesday, September 30, 2003

Pauline

Eventually, the pendulum must swing to the left. Tonight — struggling, consuming, drowning, masking, melting, and sipping when I should be chugging. I can't imagine what I did or who I wronged to suffer this voodoo curse: pins in my hands, my eyes, my balls. Why can't anyone see that i want the pins out and why won't anyone get inside?

A field at night with fog lying low (like me) and a woman gyrating about a six full feet off the ground, making love to the gators in the swamp and she knows the motives of my mood. There's a mirror under a table in the town by the water and you, Pauline, were the last high.

Monday, September 29, 2003

Words That Sound Dirty But Aren't

  • gesticulate
  • fallacious
  • hoary
  • pussy willow
  • muk-luk
  • penal
  • titmouse
  • clean and jerk
  • cumin
  • cumquat
  • frock
  • Beefeater
  • testy
  • highness
  • ungulate
  • anually
  • Uranus
  • cock-of-the-rock
  • masticate
  • matriculate
  • angina
  • corkscrew
  • testaceous
  • phalange
  • sextet
  • shebang
  • blowhole
  • Mulva
  • seamen
  • seersucker
  • gangbanger
  • debrief
  • uvula
  • dictate
  • rectory
  • Grand Tetons*
  • animal husbandry
  • bushwack
  • jackanape
  • sirloin
  • Dick Butkus
  • testatrix
  • bushtit
  • backhoe
  • Assowoman Bay
  • Lake Titicaca
  • crankshaft
  • cherry picker
  • butternut
  • nutjob
  • Bangkok
  • swallowtail
  • pusillanimous
  • Tony Danza
* We printed this in Friday's paper, but some guy actually left us a note explaining that the Grand Tetons rightfully are dirty, as the explorers first saw them and thought they looked like big breasts, hence the name.

Friday, September 26, 2003

Caterpillars

Perhaps foolishly, I watched "Lost Highway" late last night with Cory and Tristan. We watched it with the lights off and bedtime was quickly postponed for Lynch's tale of random identity. Though I'd seen it twice before, I never realized how much I liked Lou Reed's "This Magic Moment." When I finally checked out for the night, I wondered cautiously if I'd wake up as some one else. O Hoodoo Guru, why do you haunt me when I'm still coping with the subconscious image of poor Bonnie, as a little girl, attacked by patchwork dragonflies and caterpillars from Loie's art show? I think I have found the Armagosa Hotel and inside I realized my brain is poison.

Tuesday, September 23, 2003

Your Face Is a Toilet Seat

More, more more.
The Artful Dodger: A GOLDen Shower for All

Subheadline: Computer System Failure Makes First Day of School Damp, Salty

Normally, if I said so-and-so went down on me and didn't come up all night, I'd get a high five. But when the so-and-so that started to blow has the initials G-O-L-D, the result complicates my life considerably.

Thanks to the failings of Gaucho On-Line Data (GOLD), UCSB's temperamental Internet arbiter of class schedules, grades and probably other useful stuff, my three years of experience here on campus went down the tubes this morning. I never received a copy of my schedule in that rusting antique on my driveway - my parents tell me it's some non-electronic mailbox - and Registration by Telephone (RBT), GOLD's frog-sounding telephone counterpart, croaked last year. Thus, this morning brought me the painful realization that I had no idea where or when any of my classes were.

Instantly, I was no better than any of the doughy, innocent-looking pups wandering campus with darting eyes and the "oh-my-god-I'm-in-college" expressions on their faces. Lacking the guts to simply skip the first day of school due to technical difficulties, I raced into the Nexus office and swiped someone's copy of the Fall Quarter Schedule of Classes. I slid into class late (but not too late), realizing that in the rush to undo GOLD's harm, I'd forgotten to bring anything to write with or on - a lapse made all the worse because it was a drawing class.

The obvious response to my dilemma is that I'm technologically dependent and probably should have prepared myself with old-fashioned paper in case GOLD put me back in the Bronze Age. After all, machines malfunction. Cars sometimes break down, robots sometimes kill their human masters and computer systems, apparently, sometimes take huge shits and refuse to let you see your class schedule.

However, my morning trauma is indicative of problems beyond the unreliability of machines. Had RBT still been allowing students to access their vital information on their phones, GOLD's technical trouble would not have inconvenienced so many students. But barring the Fall Quarter schedules that most students bought in June -ones printed on paper as flimsy and quickly disintegrating as the newspaper stock you're reading now - students were left in the dark, or rather the bland yellow background of the GOLD error screen.

Although I've usually scheduled my classes on GOLD without too much trouble, GOLD and I have never been friends. Granted, I work better with words than with the numbers and buttons that make the computer think, but consistently over the past three years, GOLD has returned my polite caution with unexplained foul-ups and misdirecting menus and the like.

Furthermore, GOLD's untimely seizure struck days after many other students and I signed the largest checks we have ever written to the UC Regents. If they're going to take vast quantities of money out of our pockets, UCSB could at least superficially appear to facilitate our education, not confound and irritate minds still baked from sun exposure this past summer.

Likely, GOLD's damage has already been done. It didn't work the one day of the year when students needed it most. I can only hope some poor freshman already overwhelmed with the stress of this brave new world called college didn't end up hiding under his bed, crying and frantically trying to make a last minute transfer from technologically inept UCSB to the safety of CSU Podunk.

If UCSB insists that GOLD be the only method for students to, well, basically be students, GOLD's caretakers should mend its wounds and prevent any further inconveniences, especially during periods of mass class scheduling. Presently, GOLD is functional again. After having gone down for most of Sunday, however, somebody should offer it a breath mint.


Daily Nexus assistant opinion editor Drew wants a mint, too.
Nothing quite like getting the urine-based paraphilias into the face of every UCSB student first thing in the morning. The top-of-the-front page refer Cory wrote: "Your Face Is a Toilet Seat... Or So Says GOLD."

Other headlines of note: Former opinion editor Steven wrote an article about gay rights and Prop. 22 and conservative senator Pete Knight. Thus, the headline: "Knight Jousts with Queers on Prop. 22."

Saturday, September 20, 2003

Leave Tomorrow Behind

A summary: Hollister to Santa Barbara, Santa Barbara to Cayucos, Cayucos to Santa Barbara, Santa Barbara to Hollister, Hollister to Santa Barbara. Fuck. I found out my grandparents and mom met John Ritter twenty-some odd years ago, plus Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds. Then I had lunch with Todd and April at a burger joint that used to be owned by Scott and Laci Peterson.

The past is not at rest.

Thursday, September 18, 2003

Kwyjibo

When problems overwhelm us and sadness smothers us,
Where do we find the will and the courage to continue?
Well, the answer may come in the caring voice of a friend,
A chance encounter with a book, or from a personal faith.
For Janet, help came from her faith, but it also came from a squirrel.
Shortly after her divorce, Janet lost her father.
Then she lost her job. She had mounting money problems.
But Janet not only survived, she worked her way out of despondency
And now she says life is good again.
How could this happen?
She told me that late one autumn day
While she was at her lowest
She watched a squirrel storing up nuts for the winter.
One at a time, he woudl take them to the nest.
And she thought "If that squirrel can take care of himself
With the harsh winter coming on, so can I.
Once I lumped my problems into small pieces,
I was able to carry them, just like those acorns.
One at a time.
Be like the squirrel, girl.

Tuesday, September 16, 2003

Four Giants

"Sometimes the only thing worse than the weight of the world on your shoulders is the weight of the moon."

She's Not There

A list of the posters gracing my walls as of this early morning hour.
  • a Radiohead poster with Thom and the rest in Tokyo
  • a small poster I got at the the first "Lord of the Rings" at Premiere in Hollister
  • one for Hitchcock's "Vertigo" with the original orange pop art spyrograph design
  • a jumbo poster from "Pulp Fiction" that everybody bought at Just Play with Uma as Mia
  • Dali's "The Persistence of Memory"
  • another big one of Radiohead's Kid A album cover
  • a Mega Man II foldout that I rescued from an old Nintendo Power
  • the Happy Tree Friends autographed one Moe bought me for my birthday
  • the Italian "Psycho" poster I bought in London
  • a postcard I got along time ago with Pinky and the Brain on it
  • a mostly hidden "Army of Darkness"
  • a glossy black-and-white still from "Blue Velvet"
  • a pretty rare promotional poster for Mario Kart 64 with Jinglish sound effects like "clash!" instead of "crash!"
  • one for Radiohead's OK Computer
  • Lang's "Metropolis" with Futura totally looking like C-3PO
  • Munch's "The Scream"
  • the "Mulholland Drive" poster with Naomi Watts
  • a cover of Wrapped in Plastic with Coop and Laura Palmer in the Red Room from "Fire Walk With Me"
  • "Jaws" with the original artwork
  • one with Beck performing at some random concert
  • a Nike ad I tore out of an old Rolling Stone with a tennis player in a radiation suit on a smoldering, post-apocalyptic tennis court, inexplicably
  • the French ad for "Fire Walk With Me" with Laura in the front and a shadowy Coop behind red curtains
  • a way hot four-year-old Rolling Stone shot of Alicia Witt — billed as a "hot starlet" — with a whip
  • another Dali painting with creepy giraffe-elephants and a red sunset
  • the "Wild at Heart" with Nicolas Cage and Laura Dern
  • the cover of a San Jose Mercury Eye insert from when "Mars Attacks" came out full of the brainy martian noggins
  • a glossy photo of Rose MacGowan looking hot
  • a four-fifths obscured yellow poster from the Beastie Boys concert tour for Hello Nasty
  • a big black-and-white Just Play find for Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven" with the first six lines
Because I'm obsessive. Why are you reading this?

Monday, September 15, 2003

Moira MacTaggart

Like so many drunk and horny college students, the Nexus retreat at Cayucos came and went. I only prayed for death twice, so I'm calling it a successful venture at a seaside cabin where somebody must have either filmed a porno or snuff film. Fun, maybe even, if you call listening to Donovan and then drizzling conditioner on my semi-erect dick to stage lewd photos on poor drunk Jenny's camera. And I do call that fun. And I did.

I managed to avoid most direct conversation with that smoke-smuggered Lorax and go kayaking and share a hypothermerrific night swim with four naked Nexites and even make a few good jokes about goo babies and that crazy bitch Frida. Taryn nailed it on the head with "Cay-useless." I planned to flee Sunday evening but realized I had plans I didn't realize I had, like seeing Hearst Castle's Neptune Pool with Dan and Jessica.

I think I like driving with David Cross and Holly Golightly and may invite them along for future trips. It surely is neither September nor 2003 and I have all the time I need. All of it.

Friday, September 12, 2003

Cici Cooper

As of this morning, the following are totally Cici Cooper (a summer deathtoll recap).
  • Barry White
  • Gregory Hines
  • The Brothers Hussein
  • Katharine Hepbern
  • Bob Hope
  • Drewfish
  • Idi Amin
  • Bobby Bonds
  • Celia Cruz
  • Charles Bronson
  • Steve Christy
  • Warren Zevon
  • Larry Hovis of "Hogan's Heroes"
  • Most of my plants (thank you, selfish and thoughtless Nate)
  • Bernice Jones
  • Katherine Hepbern
  • John Ritter (Jack Tripper himself, who once portrayed a psychotic robot on "Buffy")
  • Johnny Cash
But hey — at least Joyce DeWitt gets her name in the papers again. R.I.P., Man in Black. R.I.P. also, Conchita Ramirez.

Coming up next: the Nexus Retreat, where I get to be Moira MacTaggart. I'm driving with MTA, whose name always reminds me of those cute, three name actresses, like Jennifer Love Hewitt or Sarah Michelle Gellar. (The latter, I've since realized, is not Swiss royalty, contrary to what the Interlaken train station led me to believe.) I think I traded a land of permanent Sunday afternoon for one of permanent Friday night, and I don't know if this deal put me on top. I miss my mom and dad.

They boarded up the back passageway and it's a dark day for the Pasado House when no one can tell me why the sink basin is stained yellow.

Wednesday, September 10, 2003

Love Is Such a Sweet Thing But I Love to Eat Things

Shocking — shocking! — revelations from Nate at the dawn of a new quarter.

kidicarus222: so what else is new?
n8rs81: dunno, ive been thinking abouy stuff
kidicarus222: like what?
n8rs81: just how stuff ended up last year with the girls
kidicarus222: yeah?
n8rs81: yea
n8rs81: i think i realize why i didnt get along with meghan
kidicarus222: because you're from the jerk planet?
n8rs81: no
n8rs81: cuz i love her
n8rs81: more than any other girl
n8rs81: she's totally the one for me
kidicarus222: dude, you gotta be shitting me
n8rs81: no
n8rs81: its totally true
n8rs81: and she feels the same way
n8rs81: meghan and i have been having an affair since summer began
n8rs81: no one else knows about it
kidicarus222: no shit!
kidicarus222: i thought you were in love with jill
n8rs81: not any more
n8rs81: jiggilian was just a physical thing
n8rs81: it's about meghan now
n8rs81: meghan makes me the happiest man in the world
[ a work of fiction ]

Tuesday, September 09, 2003

The Hardest Button to Button

Auto response from coolbeansmoe: not talking to the drew, aka the london whore
kidicarus222: fine
kidicarus222: don't talk to me
kidicarus222: then i won't talk to you and tell you what a gigantic moron you are
kidicarus222: you have so much stupid inside you, you had to gain weight to maintain your level of stupidiosity
kidicarus222: and then
kidicarus222: your head would explode
kidicarus222: and there would be stupid everywhere
kidicarus222: and people would walk by and say
kidicarus222: jeez
kidicarus222: what smells so stupid?
kidicarus222: and other people would be like
kidicarus222: oh
kidicarus222: moe exploded
kidicarus222: too stupid, you know?
kidicarus222: and then the first people
kidicarus222: they'd be all
kidicarus222: oh
kidicarus222: yeah
kidicarus222: that figures
kidicarus222: i never liked her
kidicarus222: and then
kidicarus222: squirrels would come and eat all the stupid molecules that you shot everywhere when you exploded
kidicarus222: and then those squirrels would get all swollen with stupid
kidicarus222: and then they'd look like you
kidicarus222: and then scientists would come
kidicarus222: and they'd look at the squirrels and say
kidicarus222: well, it's a new species we've got here
kidicarus222: a new, stupid species
kidicarus222: and then the government would get involved
kidicarus222: because when the moe sherman squirrels bred, there'd be dangerously high amounts of stupid in the nation
kidicarus222: and they'd wipe them out
kidicarus222: but they'd take out santa barbara too
kidicarus222: and everyone would be
kidicarus222: oh
kidicarus222: how sad
kidicarus222: santa barbara was such a nice place
kidicarus222: it's so sad they had to destroy it
kidicarus222: and then people's mothers would be all
kidicarus222: well, if you think about it
kidicarus222: it's really the fault of that moe sherman girl
kidicarus222: you know
kidicarus222: i remember her
kidicarus222: and she used to be so stupid
kidicarus222: i heard she made other things stupid just by being around them
kidicarus222: like, she's the reason mtv got stupid
kidicarus222: like, the real world used to be a really good show
kidicarus222: but then that moe girl started watching
kidicarus222: and then everyone got way stupid on it
kidicarus222: you're not just stupid: you're stupid with donkeys!

I Survived the Blood Prom

"Don't make fun of the chick with the dirtypillows."
— Mo Rocca, media gadfly

Sunday, September 07, 2003

Plink

"Floccinaucinihilipilification," suggested the comfortador meekly.

Saturday, September 06, 2003

A Club for Walking Loaves of Bread

If I started a club called The Eight Bits and let Nate and Jill and Elijah Wood join, I wonder who the remaining four spots would go to?
We laughed all night about that other guy
If I were him, I'd be mortified
I don't know how some people stay alive
Who wants to be twenty-five?

Casey Becker

And then, out of the darkness, something whistled back. (Lock the doors) The middle of nowhere and thank god I'm not making Jiffy Pop right now.

Casey Becker, R.I.P.

Friday, September 05, 2003

Myra Monkhouse

One-man house party. My folks split to Las Vegas for the weekend, a Sin City excursion twice as sinful since they're going to see Celine Dion perform. Dad seemed surprisingly okay with it. It's sad that I'm so old that having the house to myself isn't a big deal anymore. I'm actually totally sober and watching "Family Matters" right now.

Honest-to-God instructions Mom gave me:
"If you see ants in the kitchen or the pantry, don't use bug spray because we keep food there."

"Go to the front gate to get the Sunday paper. If you can’t remember which box is ours, just take someone else's."

"If there's a message, push the 'play' button on the machine to hear it."
How I wish there were more than twenty-four hours in the day. Myra Monkhouse, R.I.P.

Thursday, September 04, 2003

Michelle Mancini

An evening in Hollister and Picadilly doesn't seem so look-at-me lame. Nightfall here is like absolute zero.

Sadness is pushing a shopping cart through Target because you do all of your shopping there. Christmas is less than four months away! — or so thinks four hundred pounds of corn-fed Hollisterite — I'll call her Lady Snaggletooth — as she grazes over a rack of factory-made music. Herds of hers roam freely, and I'll bet their sharp hooves cut up the muddy ground in early spring. Look, she's rooted out a bargain truffle, a skill she knows like squeak of the shopping cart wheel.

I got gas because I needed gas to keep the Silver Bullet tearing up the roadway. Spend two months on the other side of the planet and forget that gas makes the car go. Who knew? I made it, just barely and happy thing too because running out of gas in my family is like a Corleone showing up to a hit with an unloaded gun. Or something. Love that yellow-to-red Pac Pride sign on low fuel. Alone, on the edge of town, with storm clouds gathering overhead and my fuel light blinking, I empathized with Natasha Gregson Wagner at the beginning of "Urban Legend," spilled a spot of gas on my pant leg, then smelled money all the way home.

Near the Cinderella Motel — has anyone noticed how pink that place is? — I thought about rabbits. Unlike the Jewish clerics with whom their share five letters, I think rabbits totally creep. Hoppy and nibbly and just a little suspicious. Anya totally nailed it. Why do they need their eyes to be so good anyway? Rabbit. Rabid. No coincidence, dear friend. I thought about Mario Kart, too, as I usually do when I drive. Mario Kart, of course, was my first driving instructor. "Come on, red shell! Come on… come on… Shit! Fucking banana peel." I read there's a new one coming out. I'll bet they have Birdo.

The radio: "House of Jealous Lovers" and "Animal Midnight" and "Cold Blooded Old Times."

Whether the race home was in my head or not, the dog sure treated me like I had jockeyed to first place. I sat on the grass and looked at the sky between the clouds like the clouds I want to paint tomorrow. The sky at night isn't black but blue. Blue. I don't know if I ever noticed that, really. It’s the most beautiful dark blue. I sat on the grass and thought about how happy I really am. Happy and decidedly single. Shining Spot moment No. 3.

Indoors. TV. "Mulholland Drive" on AMC but it was already done with Betty and at the Diane part, so I geeked out with "Cowboy Beebop." Typie typie.
Turnaround
Bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart

Michelle Mancici, R.I.P.

The Party Hearty Gibblercrats

kidicarus222: so who all are you living with now?
lilmimi731: lauren (i share a room w/ her), fawn (she has her own room), laramie and cesar (they share a room)
lilmimi731: then we have 3 cats (one we're watching until his owner moves into her new place), 1 hamster and 2 fish
kidicarus222: you're "full house"
kidicarus222: where's aunt becky?
lilmimi731: she and uncle jesse moved out a while ago. Didn’t you know?
kidicarus222: as long as you have a full set

Circle Gets the Square

Momentarily, as time slips into letters like TV and E! and IM, I start thinking (writing), a fun alternative to surrendering. Wednesday night and my stomach sinks when I suddenly suspect I may have come back from Europe with more than a load of international t-shirts. A squeaky little voice living in my brain near whatever pumps the anxiety juice begs me to ask whether I’ve been kidding myself.

I had a sex dream about Princess Peach (nee Toadstool) again. Beyond quirky this time, I woke up feeling kind of uncomfortable. No, it’s not the disturbing weirdness of sexualizing a mass of pixels; that faded a long time ago. And no, it’s not her eyes, which when literalized outside the video game box into my real (subconscious real) world, are freakishly big. It’s not Farrah hair. No, I think what struck me is the sheer unattainability of the whole thing, the laughable nonsense of the obsession. I can’t put it in words yet, but it’s the glimmer of something important — something resulting from everything: Isla Vista and London and Hollister (the three corners of the world) and the David Lynch matching pair. It’s the five natural elements: earth (I can’t move it), fire (I can’t touch it), water (I can’t stop it), air (I can’t hold on to it), and bubble gum (sugary, empty calories I can’t stop chewing and that won't return calls). And sorting through all these bits and pieces, I gotta believe that there’s something in it all.

(And then I dreamed I was Spider-Man, too. But that clearly didn’t mean anything.)

At my worst, I worry that no matter how hard I look for her, it’s a hopeless search leading into the Minus World. "Hollywood Squares": everybody’s life is a quest. Agree or disagree?

Exclamation point is the best letter.

Tuesday, September 02, 2003

The Stabbing Part

Gotta love that foreshadowing.

kidicarus222: have you heard from your sister?
escalift: not really... my parents have gotten a short e-mail or two, but she hasn't sent out any group ones yet
escalift: i want to write her and tell her how i stabbed myself
kidicarus222: stabbed?
escalift: (*and you thought i was kidding)
kidicarus222: stabbed?
escalift: put a knife in my hand
kidicarus222: like, the handle? or the blade?
escalift: the blade
escalift: you know, the stabbing part
escalift: sharp knives? not good can openers

Highlights from My Online Interview With Meg Ryan

Meg says: I like babies

Meg says: Yes, well she's mormon, maybe she wants to have sex

Meg says: Except Splash Mountain and Space mountain and the haunted house will all be closed... I should let them know I am coming, maybe they'll open them for me

Drew says: oh, and what's your sister doing now?
Meg says: right now she's driving to my house
Meg says: she's going to school
Meg says: plays with horses a lot
Meg says: drinks a lot too
Drew says: like, little toy horses?
Meg says: no real ones, she even lived at the "horse unit" this summer
Meg says: basically a converted horse stable
Drew says: classy
Meg says: I think she's happy
Drew says: i guess it's not so bad -- i lived in a converted carport all last year
Meg says: Now she lives with a gay guy who has two chihuahua's and one of them has three legs

Meg says: When I look out the window in my bedroom I see a tall fence with the extra barbed wire slanted because it is the mental hospital's property

Meg says: you're not a slut are you?

Meg says: there are so many cheeses in this world

Meg says: i don't think I could ever make it in a sorority

Meg says: Drew, if I find out you are joking, I swear to god I will never speak to you again

Meg says: and I thought one day we would get married

Meg says: so, why'd you tell me that?

Monday, September 01, 2003

Onions

Howdy September! I realized that there's no single instance in English in which the phrase "filled with fluid" connotes good circumstances.
kidicarus222: once i get owen's check, i will have spending money up the ass
kidicarus222: i'm fucking loaded!
kidicarus222: barbecue!
kidicarus222: possible furniture!
kidicarus222: ummm
kidicarus222: lots of onions
n8rs81: ?
kidicarus222: as many as we could ever dream of, nate!
n8rs81: we need the barbecue and i think we're fine on furniture
kidicarus222: oh, i will judge that
kidicarus222: i may use my money to destroy our present furniture then buy new furniture
kidicarus222: made of onions!
n8rs81: ya
kidicarus222: onions, nate!
n8rs81: you do that
kidicarus222: did i mention that mario golf is a very nice game?
kidicarus222: it's quite relaxing and pleasant
n8rs81: ya
n8rs81: i love that game
kidicarus222: but the new one
kidicarus222: for the gamecube
n8rs81: ya
n8rs81: i know
kidicarus222: you can play as birdo
kidicarus222: i like birdo
kidicarus222: and i like mario golf
kidicarus222: in fact, my only complaint about mario golf would be the conspicous lack of onions
n8rs81: so you discovered onions in europe or something
kidicarus222: they're just neat