Things:
I was in Fruitvale the other evening and saw a dwarf hooker. No, seriously. She was a 'little person,' and she was soliciting 'johns' for 'sex.' It was rad.
Bought a ticket to go to Mexico on Tuesday. I was sick of waiting. I'm hoping to get new freckles and a Hispanic boyfriend.
I've decided never to have children, thus sparing myself the pleasure of not allowing my parents to meet their grandkids.
I went on a date with a fellow with two Morrissey tattoos. I don't know if this was the worst decision I've ever made, or the logical conclusion to a plan I set in motion many, many years ago.
My brain just shit its pants: LOL.
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Sunday roast.People don't really hate Americans. They like to use our accents as a way to initiate conversation and then pick up on us.
It is acceptable to drink at nearly any time of the day or night, and nearly every social activity began and ended with either a drink or me falling on the floor.
When in large groups, Englishmen don't seem to mind be spoken to in gibberish in order to get them to say "wot?" again. Especially when the gibberish was sincere.
Older people in England have automatic frowny-face. When their faces are slack, which is most of the time, they are stuck in sad little comical moues.
In London, handsome men roam the streets like feral dogs. Feral dogs possibly waiting to be domesicated.
Even poor, ostensibly uneducated people, have better vocabularies than my friends who went to Harvard and Yale (and me).
It's freaking cold.
For all the talk I've heard about London being overrun with filth and immigrants, I was flabberghasted by how incredibly clean the city was. Have these people been to New York for fuck's sake? We keep our ankles warm in New York not by wearing stockings, but by letting the rats congregate outside our apartment doors in a giant furry miasma of warmth. And the immigrants? Do they mean the one person of color I saw this entire weekend? Granted, she did roll over my foot with her suitcase but I can't believe that's any reason to tighten the conrols on the EU. If on the off chance they mean the gorgeous Eastern European teenagers working in every bakery and coffee shop, I will personally sponsor a dozen of them to move to the United States. A little delicate bone structure could only do this country some good.
Okay so yeah it's expensive, but it's not as bad as every fat American asshole without a passport would have you believe.
Does this make me look English?
Results tagged “morrissey”
Rucacam: would you fuk morrisey?
Lina: duh
Lina: duh
If I were a stripper, my favorite song to dance to would probably be 'Moving in Stereo' by The Cars. In fact, the whole album would probably work. I told this to one of my friends while we were listening to the album and he replied, "You'd probably be a really depressing stripper."
Interestingly enough, I regularly think about this. Or at least, when I hear a song that speaks to me in a certain way, I think this would be a good song to strip to. I'm not sure if this is due to my previous association with strippers and their clubs, or just some sort of deep-seated psychological issue, but nonetheless, this is how my mind works. Back in the day there used to be a strip club in San Francisco that had a large number of goth girls working there who would dance to songs by Sisters of Mercy and The Smiths. More than dancing, they would just mope onto stage, expose their bits and sulk off. Frankly, it was far more enticing than most of the pole gymnastics they were performing at other clubs.
Other songs to consider: Pour Some Sugar on Me - Def Leppard
It seems to be about time to post more Smiths lyrics, because that's just the kind of girl that I am.
I am sick and I am dull
and I am plain
how dearly I'd love to get carried away
oh but dreams have a knack of just not coming true
and time is against me now
Who and what to blame?
anything is hard to find
when you will not open your eyes
when will you accept yourself?
for heaven's sake
anything is hard to find
when you will not open your eyes
everyday you must say
how do I feel about the past
Others conquered love - but I ran
I sat in my room and I drew up a plan
but plans can fall through as so often they do
and time is against me now
And there's no one left to blame
tell me when will you
when will you accept your life
the one that you hate?
Mash: Lots of floppy-haried, too-sensitive, manic-depressive boys in London for you, that's for sure.
Lina: I have to find one that's less depressed than me.
Lina: I want to be the miserable one.
Mash: Sounds like the title of the best song the Smiths never recorded.
Lina: I have to find one that's less depressed than me.
Lina: I want to be the miserable one.
Mash: Sounds like the title of the best song the Smiths never recorded.
Sunday roast.
Things I learned (learnt) while in London:
Does this make me look English?
So as you might have guessed, I'm now giving some sort of consideration to moving to London. I haven't even arrived back statesides, and I'm already having complaints registered from all sides. "Why would you want to move?" they whinge, "Everyone there is so unhappy."
I know that this may come as a surprise to my more sporadic readers (i.e. my father), but I am probably one of the most functionally miserable, borderline suicides that manages to roll into a collared shirt and heels and out the door on a daily basis. I can't help but think to be in a place where I would be the "cheerful, bubbly" one couldn't be bad for my psyche. (Yes, these were terms that were used to describe me by a member of management in London.) How can you not love that?
This morning I woke up, besieged by handsome men with English accents. I shook my head, sure that I was stuck in one of those unwholesome dreams that I am wont to having. I parted the Ambien filled mist in my head and realized this was no dream, I was in London.
(For the purpose of clarification, let me say that I was not physically surrounded by handsome men as I was waking up, per se. I was just acknowledging the handsomeness and Englishness that is surrounding me in general on this little vacation.)
I ate a Yorkshire pudding yesterday.
"I've always believed that whatever I wear is fashionable and whatever somebody else wears is unfashionable."--Morrissey
"Lina, you aren't unloveable, exactly.
You're just...well...
you're just really fucking needy."
You're just...well...
you're just really fucking needy."
Too often, I listen to Morrissey and think, "you know, he's right!" He's my stand-in therapist during the lonely months that I am not under the care of a professional.
Today it was 'You Just Haven't Earned It Yet Baby" by the Smiths that made me exclaim with the delight of a blind man finally able to see. It made me feel kind of okay. I thought that one was supposed to grow out of feeling that a pop star is the only person that can understand you somewhere around the age of 14. But I still feel that way. What gives?
You must suffer and cry for a longer time
You just haven’t earned it yet, baby
I know I'm unloveable
You don't have to tell me
Message received
Loud and clear:The Smiths valentine debacle.
You don't have to tell me
Message received
Loud and clear:The Smiths valentine debacle.
The dirty valentines last year.
In non-holiday related news, I am going to directly steal a post from Luna so go visit Luna so she won't be mad at me for doing it.
You give me something to write about. I write it.
Your website and/or genitals, the President (I wouldn't know where to start), and the "latest" interweb funny video are not viable options.
So get to it.
Here is one of the famed valentines that Fran and I made when we were roommates in college. We made a large number of black valentines with Smiths lyrics on them, and distributed them to our disillusioned and alienated peers. Here are some sample lyrics that I can recall:
I know I'm unloveable
You don't have to tell me
Message received
Loud and clear
Two lovers entwined passed me by
and heavens knows I'm miserable now
But I don't want a lover
I just want to be tied to the back of your car.
I know I need hardly say
how much I love your casual way
but please put your tongue away
I am Human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
In my life
why do I smile
at people who I'd much rather kick in the eye
and if a ten ton truck
kills the both of us
to die by your side
well the pleasure and the privilege is mine
Because if it's not Love
Then it's the Bomb
That will bring us together
I still love you
but only slightly
less than I used to
Last night I dreamt
that somebody loved me
no hope-but no harm
just another false alarm
Clearly, we were very charming young ladies. Odd that neither one of us can sustain a long-term relationship. Here's a really funny random Smiths lyrics generator.
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