With my first American paycheque I bought myself:
- a haircut, my first in 10 months
- new shoes, desperately needed
- two dresses, unnecessarily
- this postcard, an impulse buy at the Rose Bowl. I was killing time by thumbing though a bin of yellowed landscapes, until then this little gem of stoner-artist perfection came stumbling into my [...]
This weekend I told Nichole that Steve Buscemi is sort of my dream man. I’ve thought about it since and maybe it’s a bit too conventional-masked-as-contrarian? Can I still love Steve Buscemi? Does loving him just paint me as some cheesy Enid archetype, my casual Bob Skeetes fantasies later manifesting themselves in Buscemi’s more dimensional [...]
Olly Moss’ mock redesign of the COD4 packaging makes me sweatier than 35 waves of Nazi Zombies in Call of Duty: World At War.
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The Mandate Press‘ calling cards–250 letterpressed beauties for under $100–are much sexier than slurring shouting your number into someone’s ear at a bar. And they probably don’t smell like whiskey, either. I [...]
In my printer’s feed tray is a stack of blank white paper that needs to be completely dirtied by theses and theories and a few plain old words–roughly six thousand of them– by this time next week.
And this is the only book I’ve cracked. Yikes.
It’s complicated, but you probably don’t want to borrow my notes.
As I fall farther and farther behind in my course reading, the doodles in the margins of my lecture notes are starting to stray east of red while my actual note-taking is becoming, well, marginal.
Take, for example, philosophy:
I’m not sure what my own notes have to do with a set of causes that relate to [...]