Tag Archives: missing picture

Oh my Gawd!

There were all sorts of characters afoot last night. We went to Jae’s for sushi. I don’t even know all what was in that boat. You could pan sear chicken brains and I would eat it. Pan-seared! For our entertainment, the waste of human life at the next table were getting drunk. The Goombas then impressed their lady friends by ogling me out loud and and then calling me names when I suggested they just take a picture. They even mocked my hat! Only INSANE people wear hats, especially in January.

I rarely ever get openly made fun of these days. That went the way of my Teri Nunn hairdo. So I am rather taken aback when it happens. What class it shows when a bunch of f?!?heads leer and stumble over some nonsensical putdown about the color of your jacket. I can’t wrap my mind around that level of brain activity.

But we went on to the Spinny bar, which revolves over the Charles River. They have frou frou drinks called Popsicles and a Russian DJ. We watched the revelry of what appeared to be Romanian Prom-goers. If they had played the Venga Boys, i swear we would have danced. The bar started to spin in many different directions.

I know you were all out there, enjoying this tinkly winter evening, because I saw you. And I smiled and waved, as long as you weren’t making fun of my hat!

-xo

Behold my Awesomeness

I have finally finished my portrait of my roommate Abbs, a soft and lovely girl. I painted her like someone that you imagine smells nice…and has bruises on her legs. I have started a new one of a cigar sucking androgyn. An athlete with long brown hair and polka dots. I am going to paint all the lovely girls of my acquaintance, so stay tuned. Oh, and if you happen to be one of these, do volunteer! And pull the sailor suit out of your closet and your crutches and your favorite underwear and purple eyeshadow and get your cans over to my house!

In other news of stunning feats, I cleaned my room.

I am also pleased to report that I Feel F°!”§ing Awesome because I went to the gym yesterday and rowed 60 lbs, like, until I died. Then I came home and gorged on lasagna. Like Garfield. So I went back to the gym again today and redid my good work of yesterday. And I feel like I could kill someone with my bare hands. Like really overpower someone and strangle them while their blows across my chest grow weaker and weaker. ahem.

Hooray for feeling good!

It’s time for sushi and sake. and violence.

-xo

Anniversary in the Vomitorium

Vomitola is celebrating its Very First Birthday! As we look back upon a whole year of gay porn star country singers, spectacular outfits, visits to the pope, and anal leakage, one has to marvel at the variety and depth of our experiences. Or one could content themselves with marveling at our sleek hairdos.

But it hasn’t all been one grand binge ‘n’ purge! Vomitola has had its troubles, too. The deadlines, the screaming fights over which Queer Eye is our favorite, the endless offers of sex. Why, Kitty Winn is still in Rehab!

Running the show here is an intense drama. We wish to thank all of you who like to read about our triumphant shopping trips and our tumbles down flights of stairs. We do it all for you.

-xo with sugar on top

Sooooo Good!

My house is a really great place to watch bad movies. Because we have a fireplace and a lot of ire. Last night offered Ghost Ship, a movie whose only exciting moment occurred in the first five minutes when a roomful of people are halved by a rope and then slide apart like so many wide-eyed steaks. The Movie was aware that it had nothing else, and let us enjoy it again as a flashback later on.

P.S. Julianne Margulies is not Sigourney Weaver. Even in her mondo-sportsbra.

It’s another frostbitey day but I don’t mind. Licketysplit is going to come over and we are going to knit little caps with kitten ears on them. Then we are going to watch Squirm in between slippery mouthfuls of lo mein.

Someone come with me to Lisbon. We’ll eat spicy fish and get low octane New Englander tans and draw pictures of comically oversized genitals in the sand on the beach. We’ll go to a museum. Pretty please?