the amount of dirty words i used in this post is misleading.

Hello. I haven't written a real blog entry in awhile. This one won't be very interesting, funny, poignant or articulate on account of not having slept last night, but if you're in the market to waste 2 minutes of your Rapture Day morning, I'm your girl.

So during my balcony-sitting last night/this morning, I did not see anything floating up into the air. Fireworks, blow-up dolls OR bodies. I was pretty disappointed. Especially with the lack of fireworks. At 7am I decided to go wandering off to find somewhere to buy vacuum bags, hair dye and moisturizer. I was an hour and a half early when I tried Rexall in Jackson Square (what drugstore opens at 9am? Don't old people who get up at 5am need their medicines and whatnot? Dicks.) After a totally failed bus experiment, I decided to stop being such a lazy fucking asshole and I continued with the rest of my mission on foot in search of a drugstore, which ended up being about as easy as spotting a product placement for condoms on any episode of "Teen Mom". The Jehovah's Witnesses were out in full force, probably counting down the hours until the end of the day before they say "fuck it, I give up" and take on a much more enjoyable, hedonistic lifestyle. Come to the dark side: we have titty bars, 150 proof elixirs and kinky sex.

Something cool I discovered is that I live way closer to Victoria Park than I realized. AND, apparently there is a secret mini-park/oasis in my building's backyard that I never knew about. (I have a thing for parks. Not just because of the abundance of dogs to play with.) Turns out I live in a really rad neighbourhood and I didn't even realize it (except of course for The Casbah being two blocks away [Brodie paid me $20 to say that] [Kidding!]). Oh god that last sequence of punctuation is stressing me out... Holly help me out here.

In conclusion, Hamilton rules, organized religion is idiotic*, and I need a nap.

His UFO is big enough for all of us to escape the wrath of Jesus freaks.

*Except for the Church of Dan Aykroyd, for which I am currently accepting applications.

photos from Rackula videoshoot.

%%%%%

india ink, pencil crayon, computer colouring

india ink

muddy.

pencil + india ink.

the day the bosoms died.

Celebrity deaths are sad, yes. (Death is sad in general, obviously.) But I'm not normally one to make a big deal out of every last one of them. I don't know these people in person, their death has no direct effect on my own life. Once in awhile, someone I really admired passes on, I mourn and celebrate their life in my own way, and life goes on, as does more death.

However, there are a small handful of famous folks whose influence played a major role in my life. One of those people is/was Tura Satana.

Most who know of Tura Satana know her for her role as Varla in Russ Meyer's "Faster Pussycat, Kill, KILL!!!" This too, was how I was introduced to her. I remember watching the film at midnight on CityTV when I was 16, and seeing this brazen, black-haired, fiery woman clad in a bosom-busting top, kicking ass with her bare hands, her sexuality at once provocative and absolutely dangerous, and something in me was born. Varla changed my life, provoking me into thinking about femininity and my own sexuality in a whole new way. She looked unique, sexy as hell, but had a pair of balls made of titanium.

This may sound cheesy, but I would not be the woman I am today if not for Tura Satana's Varla. No one else could have played that character the way she did; no one could have brought her to life the way she did, made her as powerful, balanced power with sultriness in such a genuine, honest way... and no one could have been as much of a ball-busting sex kitten.

I even copped my look from her. A lot of people have made the Bettie Page comments to me over the last ten years, and I say "Bettie's got nothing on Tura!" My hair, my look, my sexuality, my attitude towards sex and power and men... all of those things were hatched and nurtured by Varla, and Tura. She became my hero, and is an archetype that I keep in my mind always. I didn't want to be a Marilyn, an Audrey, a Britney... I was inspired to be a woman in control of her sexuality in a way that made no apologies, a woman with balls but who retained her femininity, a woman who wouldn't put up with shit from anyone, especially men.

Tura reflected this attitude in her own life as well, and I admire her endlessly.

She died yesterday, February 4th 2011, in Reno, NV, reportedly of heart failure.

Thank you Tura Satana, for showing me how fucking awesome women can be, and for being one of the best role models a girl could ask for.

"Faster Pussycat, Kill, KILL!!!" is still my favourite movie of all time, because of you.

R.I.P.

A montage of Varla clips from FPKK:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DcuLxFpuzVY

playing solitaire.

"We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and — in spite of True Romance magazines — we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely — at least, not all the time — but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don’t see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness."

- Hunter S. Thompson

anthem.

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars
they will be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.
Ring the bells
that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.


- Leonard Cohen

there are many reasons why I love Steve Albini...

... this is just one of them:


"I think fashion is repulsive. The whole idea that someone else can make clothing that is supposed to be in style and make other people look good is ridiculous. It sickens me to think that there is an industry that plays to the low self-esteem of the general public. I would like the fashion industry to collapse. I think it plays to the most superficial, most insecure parts of human nature. I hope GQ as a magazine fails. I hope that all of these people who make a living by looking pretty are eventually made destitute or forced to do something of substance. At least pornography has a function."


For your aural pleasure:

i heart ny.

Hi everyone.

I am in Brooklyn, half asleep in a rental car on a road called I think "Wythe Road". Just saw Kid Congo Powers play an incredible set at a place called the Brooklyn Bowl, totally on a whim. What a great venue; best luck in the universe. I think I'm already in love with NYC. And I've only been here less than 5 hours.
Ian is passed out beside me. Poor guy. Long, beautiful, fun drive out here. Went to a really cool bar earlier called the Library. I think we're going back again before we leave.

I'm only writing this because I'm a night owl, even though I only got about 4 hours of sleep last night. Tattoo party at some point this weekend. Some parts of NY remind me of Hamilton, but I don't miss it... At least not yet.

Cheers, and here's to an amazing fucking weekend, for us and for you.

Your favourite jackass,
L.

him & others.

him and others

Thoughts. Silly. I'd rather
sink my teeth in your neck,
seriously, knock you down
on the floor - all for love.
You'll forget my lousy
poems but if I could just
mar you or something. Nothing
nice ever sticks but boy
a scar - If I could ever
really bruise you with
my feelings, them, so infinitely
forgettable & gone.


- Eileen Myles