A: "I heard Julia Roberts gave birth to twins."
B: "I didn't even know she was female."

I whole-heartedly endorse the commercialization of Christmas.

Three more weeks of school. Good-bye and so long, University of Pittsburgh. After that I'll be off with Chris Cornell in the superunknown. What next. What next? As I see it, I've got a couple options. 1) Grad school. 2) Art job. 3) Shit job. 4) Marry into money. I have no idea what I'm doing. Where the hell is the magic 8-ball?

Here we go Steelers.
Here we go.
10-1.

Al Gore invented the Internet so we could all read things like this.
Thank you Matt Fraction.
Thank you Al Gore.

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Sorry.
I was cleaning my keyboard.

WARNING: (almost) NORMAL BLOG POST.
Thanksgiving was rather ho-hum. Didn't get to spend enough time with my family because I went to the Pitt/WVU football game. Cold. Damn cold. Too cold. 2 cold 2 quit. Please, Hammer, don't hurt 'em. As you may have guessed, I'm very tired. Yawn. See, I told you. Bass drum playing santas. Bass drum playing santas. Went to AIR this morning. There wasn't anything going on so I made a print. It came out pretty well. It's a silkscreen version of one of the linoleum prints I did last week. The image is good but I think I only managed to get a couple good prints because my screenprint-fu is weak. Whose fault is that! Whose fault is that! Sorry. I am going to be the king of the lumps this weekend.

It's snowing.

What to do to celebrate the start of Thanksgiving break?
Go see the Incredibles for the fourth time, of course.

Here we go Steelers.
Here we go.
9-1.

I finally finished the second card in my Complete Deck of the Tarot (incomplete). Three of Wands. It’s not as good as the first one. Not enough black on the girl to separate her from the background. Plus the background’s a little funky. I’ve been working on prints like crazy this week. It’s amazing how much you can get done when you don’t have a social life. I think something’s wrong with me. I’ve become dedicated. I was seriously considering skipping the Steeler game to get another print done. What was I thinking? Also helping the theory that something’s wrong with me—this rather straightforward blog post. I guess what it comes down to is that I'm graduating in less than a month and whatever I decide to do afterwards I will need a body of work and I don't have one. DON'T PANIC.

Everyone gets hung up on the seventy-six trombones.
But come on, one-hundred and ten cornets.
ONE-HUNDRED AND TEN CORNETS.
That's a lot of cornets, people.

Groove Subdued

Here we go Steelers.
Here we go.
8-1.

Lets hear it for England!

tush
n : the fleshy part of the human body that you sit on;

Oh, yes.

Third time.
Still awesome.
Holly Hunter's performance...wow.
Watch their hands...
Hobo suit.
Hobo suit.
Hobo suit.

Poor bunny. Slow as hell but funny.

Lets form a suicide pact.
Just you and me.
But instead of killing ourselves we'll make art.
Really great art.
Or we could form a cult.
But instead of worshipping some vague god in a comet we'll make art.
Really great art.
We'll recruit impressionable young artists.
We'll make them sell off all their worldly possessions.
We'll make them empty their bank accounts.
We'll make them give all the money to the cult.
We'll use the money to buy art supplies.
And we'll make art.
Really great art.
Just you and me.
And our acolytes.

Anyone have any idea how I can get $6.5 million by February?

Here we go Steelers.
Here we go.
7-1.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Okay, I'm completely obsessed with the Incredibles now.
Something had to fill the void left by the election.
"Your baby has special needs!"

Eep!

Wow.
First time: Damn good.
Second time: Empire Strikes Back good.
"Next time you want to gamble bet your own life."
"No capes!"
Wow.

I'm watching you.

I'm still here.
Gonna go to a 9:30 showing.
Then I'll make some, sweet, sweet art just for you.
You deserve it.
Actually when I come back I'll fall asleep because I'm really tired.
How about some sweet, sweet Ashley Wood art instead?

Brad Bird is my hero.
Great, great movie.
I think I'll go see it again...

"I just stick out my chin and grin and say oh
the sun'll come out tomorrow
so you gotta hang on 'til tomorrow
come what may
tomorrow tomorrow i love ya tomorrow"

I'm going to try to fill the next four years with beauty and joy.
We're going to need a lot of beauty and joy.
I'll see you there.

"Baby, I feel fucked."

What the fuck happened tonight?

"Take everything that you can
Take everything that you can
You wanna hold out you can
It's just the waiting that I can't stand
Yeah I know
It's just a year
I know
I know"

Done.
8:25 this morning. I was number 108.
Then I sat and watched people vote for half an hour.
It was a beautiful sight.

Anyone want to camp out at the polling place tonight?

"George W. Bush is a piss-poor substitute for Jesus."
Said the atheist.

I want Kerry to win.
I expect Kerry to win.
But, you know, there's part of me that is curious as to what Bush would do with four more years. Of course, it's the same part of me that wonders what that four-hour erection they talk about at the end of the Cialis commercial would be like.

As Election Day is fast approaching I offer these words of inspiration:
"It takes a man who knows not fear to wrestle with a goat."
Amen to that.
Don't forget to vote.
Unless you voted already.
In which case I'm very jealous.

Do you ever get really punchy when you're tired and start thinking about how strange shoes are or how freaky thoughts in your head are. It's like I'm talking to myself in my head. It's like there are words in my head and also images, but it's not like the words are being said or they're written. They're just kind of there, and I'm in control of them. Most of the time. You know? Yeah, I knew you would. We're two peas in a pod you and me. Yes, yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes.
Remind me to tell you about my bizzaro world/utopia theory sometime.