Pomo photo stash

Tonight's my big, and by big I don't actually mean big, art opening. Yes, sir, I've got one of those. It's called "Most at Home in Motels" and it is just a shit ton of polaroids, and by shit ton I don't actually mean shit ton, but about 375. Here's a few photos of the photos.

In other news, someone offered to buy the cowboy boots I'm wearing today right off my feet for $220. I need the money, badly, but I sed suckit ho to him and grabbed my crotch CalBaptist style at him. Just right at him. Boom right at him. It was smooth.



All I can listen to right now is the new Jonny Greenwood soundtrack to There Will Be Blood. I can't wait till the hardcore band called that comes out in 7months.

Nous

So it's 2008. Dan Mains has been saying it for a while, and it's worth repeating: Sex can wait--2008! Still reluctant to consume the vagina-thing, I can't say that I blame him. They're trouble.

I was kind of wanting to do a best of 2007 thing, but stuff that isn't so over-covered. I haven't been on my game with posting, obviously, so it's no surprise that it hasn't happened. But this is what I've been up to:

I've been slinging 'spro in downtown Phoenis at Royal Coffeebar, I'm reading a lot of the books, I'm super painfully poor, and I'm about to have my first art show, ever, in this the month of January. First Friday opening and all. If you're in town, you should hit me up. It's just a selection of my polaroids that isn't that exciting, but there are probably well over 350 hanging, and if nothing else, I think it might be a decent way to kill a few hours. Most of the six of you reading this are featured, and there are a few other non-readers that have been exposed.

LA Ink is totally killing me. I downloaded the entire first season last week and it's all I can do to keep myself from being glued to watching it 24/7. The worst part, prolly, is that I'd just kind of gotten over the wanting-to-get-tattooed bug. Now it's worse than ever.

I miss you all, my darlings.