pissyrabbits

Gormley: Im sending that link to landry

Melissa: she’s going to die when she reads it and if she does i hope this guy doesnt find her

Their mothers must be so proud.

another year of disgruntia.

here is the invite to my birthday…so beautifully and accurately penned by my lovely gf:

hello friends of landry,

it was a bright sunny day on november 6th back in ‘69. the birds were chirping, the sky was a crisp blue, the leaves were falling, and so did our beloved landry…right into the world. yes, on that day that landry entered the world and she’s hated almost everyone in it ever since. somehow, we’ve all managed to avoid that list.

in honor of landry’s birthday and her not hating you, please come out this friday and celebrate. in lieu of fancy gifts or booze, if you must bring something (and you don’t!), please bring something special that you know she will hate. it could be big or small, just as long as she hates it, and her birthday will be complete. this shouldn’t be hard folks, as the possibilities are endless…

*****

thanks baby!

that is lots of shit that i will not only hate stationary, i will also hate moving it on the subway back to my house.

ps…please dont send me hate mail if you were not invited. i invited like 3 people because i didnt want to do anything this year.

ManDom.

Leave it to my pretty pretty gf to decide that she will be a queen who was subjected to a badly botched beheading…..

and shes got mad photoshop skillz…

dear mom,
actually, i’ve decided not to go to florida so that i can hang out with landry and watch movies and make dinner and be naked.
love,
yp

tonight i turned a corner.

for the first time in almost 4 years i realized exactly how unruly my life has been.

ive spent the past few months digging myself out of the mess that i made and i can finally see the end of the tunnel.

it feels good.

and just when i thought i saw how bad it had been

i found a Hillary Duff cd in my cd collection

and the cellophane is off of it.

it was then that i realized that one of 2 things were true:

either i was so drunk in the past few years that i didnt realize that i started doing heroin and somehow willingly accepted that cd from someone OR (god forbid!!!…..) paid money for it in some sort of ‘nod-out’.

or

someone reverse burglarized me by breaking in and LEAVING that here.

i really hope its the latter. or else i am definitely too far gone to ever make it back.

******************

post post IM:

Gormley: nice
Landry: nice?!?!?
i dont even know how to dispose of something like this
Gormley: fire?
Landry: do i have to take it to a special dump
like where they get rid of spent uranium?
in a special container so i dont let the toxins out
and
am i going to get sick?
i mean these are valid questions
Gormley: dont lick it

The view from my apartment is the same view I used to have… just a different side. The building downtown that I loved looking at from John Street I see now from Peck Slip. The red lights on the very top floors and antennae are the same as they always were… brilliant every night, breathtaking in fog… but this perspective is a little more jaded, a little more grateful, a little more careful, and a little more clear.

This is going to seem an odd post, but follow through and let it all go.

The other night, and many nights, find me in a bath. Little known fact - aside from people who should know - every night for decades I have taken a bath before going to bed. One of those funny little unwinding rituals. Sometimes with myself, sometimes with others, sometimes with alcohol, sometimes with nothing. It helps me unwind, settle in, catch up, de-stress.

Anyway, lately I have been reminded by the passage of time… (and this is where it gets a little odd) when I’m in the bath I see the showerhead I normally see, and remember that 3 years ago I was staring at another wall in another life with a fucking whole other plan, and that 7 (or 8?) years ago there was a black and white cat named Sherman at my side when I took a bath, and that 10 years ago I cried in a bath while someone apologized to me for fucking up everything, and right after that there was an orange cat named Oliver sitting on the toilet on Tiffany Place with a sweet and snarky face who would watch me take a bath to forget that someone had fucked up everything…

It made me wish I had photos of every showerhead and crappy tile wall to mark the passing of my life. And it made me realize that maybe only Landry would get me and understand that.

While I haven’t been posting (which I was scolded for) I have been drinking and stockpiling for two weeks many of the things that have:

• horrified me
• made me laugh out loud
• made me want to stay in Panama (see below) and never come home

In no particular order they are:

• Another shot of Britney’s nasty twat. (Seriously, how much does a thong cost? $3.99?)
• terrorist finger puppets
• A son dialing 911 from the car while his mother bit his hand to get the phone away. (Amusingly her last name is Spears…)
• The fact that women making decisions is still news on CNN… thanks Ted Turner… hang on while I spit in your dinner and pee on your laundry while you hang out in the study with scotch and cigars.
• And lastly, apparently hot people don’t live in Philly.

The aforementioned escape: