Squirrely

Birds do it. Bees do it. Squirrels do it in my yard. A lot.

I had opinions that didn’t matter. I had a brain that felt like pancake batter.

Ooooh, I was in sort of a black mood tonight. Big, nasty, monster dogs chased my cats through the yard, stepping on plants I just planted, Big Sir turned his nose up at the dinner I cooked, and then I spent close to an hour on the phone with one of those credit report places, most of it on hold. My security question was “what is the name of your favorite pet”? I had typed in my hands down favorite pet (living). It didn’t work. I typed in my hands down favorite pet (dead). Didn’t work either. So I was locked out of my account. When I finally got to talk to someone (India) they insisted that I name the damn pet’s name. I told them that both of my guesses were wrong. He suggested that I name all my pets. Now, I have had a lot of pets, with a lot of stoopid names. So I start naming names like Poopiehead and Loverbutterfacepants and Dingleberry Derek. Man, I started laughing my ass off and more embarrassingly he’s laughing his ass off too. The list was long and of course the pet I named last was the secret word. Ironically, it’s the pet I actually dislike the most. I must have been high to type her in as a fave. Or maybe she’d been kissing my ass that day. Who knows. I felt bad for the operator, having to listen to my sordid pet history so I actually let him roll through his sales pitch for like fifteen damn minutes. Ultimately, I don’t think he judged me that much. I’m pretty sure they name those sacred cows some pretty hi-fucking-larious names over there in that India. Or if they don’t, they should. Makes life more fun.

I do have some bitter disgust to pass on to the art world. As if it reads this. It doesn’t.
Please, please, please for the love of all that is pure and good in this world, cease and desist using owls, deer, and skulls in art. It’s not interesting. It’s not cute. It’s not ironic. It’s stupid. And boring. And totally overdone. And completely fucking lazy. Lazy because a person doesn’t even to attach meaning to these images to show them and sell them in important places. The meaning seems to be that everyone else is using them, which isn’t meaning, it’s lemming bullshit. For some reason this keeps getting celebrated over and over. Artists, please stop using these images. Gallerists and curators, please stop showing this bullshit, Collectors. For gods sake, stop collecting it. It’s not going to be worth a g-damn dime in ten years. It’s an insult to artists who are effectively using unique, thoughtful, meaningful symbols in their work. Gah! I get all frothy mouthed about this issue.

Alright, let us not end on that note. Really quick movie reviews. As it heats up outside, I hide in movie theaters more and more. Big Sir and an animator friend dragged me to Wall-e. I had zero expectations. Actually, that's not totally true. I expected to hate it. And I didn’t. I didn’t love it, but you know, Disney preaching to me about corporations that turn people into sloths… Well, that’s a little more than I can take. But, I really liked the first hour. I wish we could have stayed there. The deserted, lost and forgotten earth was really quite beautiful. The only other movie I’ve seen is Encounters at the End of the World. What a great movie for a hot day. I really love Herzog and although it is no Grizzly Man, it is quite beautiful and interesting. Basically you get to take a trip to Antarctica with Herzog. Which I totally would have, but he never called me.

Cliché quota met

Lately, Big Sir and I have been getting up at 5:30 in the morning to go running. Who am I? I don’t even know anymore. I’ve also been going to a yoga class once a week which starts at 9am on Sunday morning. And I show up on time and not hungover or anything. Last week were asked to loop our index fingers around our big toes, while standing, and swing the arm/leg combo out to the side. Try it, your leg will feel like its starting to leave your hip socket. Actually, don’t. It’s too crazy. I also have given up coffee. And TV.

This morning while we were running not only did we see a bird catch a worm, but we heard a rooster crow. It actually went cockle-doodle-do. I mentioned this to Gypsy Prince and he said, “Wow! That reminds me of the time I was hanging out with our friend J. She was on acid, and we saw a white rabbit”.