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(Source: , via whatafuckinfamilypicture)
One of My Many New Ventures
Hey all,
I feel like I’m always apologizing for not updating as often as I promise I will, but if you lived a life that was even half as busy as mine, you would find it difficult squeeze in a few minutes for blogging here and there. Also, one of the ladies at Mother Molly’s Milk threw out her back making vegan chocolate milk last week, so I’ve been working overtime at almost 32 hours a week. I am literally am so busy sometimes I forget to breathe. But then I get dizzy and remember haha.
But aside from that, things have been looking up for Ole D recently. So many great things have been falling into my lap lately. An especially good one happened the other day on my day off from MM’sM when me and my girl Siouxie were chilling in her room, smoking some fat bowls and watching some film noir.
But the pigeons outside Siouxie’s window refused to let me enjoy my day off. The pigeons here in Bushwick are literally like no other beasts the earth knows. The ones on Siouxie’s window would literally not stop fucking. Like, all day long, they would just fuck and fuck. And they were super loud about it- like I’m talking louder than Rosa (sorry girl). I mean it was cool for like the first 25 minutes or so but after that I had had it.
the beasts themselves in the throws of passion. pic credit- Sioux
I walked over to the window, ready to beat the beasts to death with one of Siouxie’s lead pipes. But upon looking into their beady, ugly, little red eyes, a familiar tingle began in my pelvis—it was the beginning of a great idea/transcendental enlightenment. The last time I felt this feeling was when I thought of my famous social commentary performance art piece America’s obsession with coffee where I ate pounds and pounds of raw coffee beans.
Sure, I was still going to slaughter the beasts, but it couldn’t be messy. The bird corpses needed to be in good shape…I had big plans for these horrible birds.
“Sioux…” I began, barely able to contain my growing smirk, “do you, by chance, have any more of that Formaldehyde you used in that art installation?”
“Umm…yeah I have a couple gallons left,” she responded. I could tell she was perplexed. “Why?”
“Well…how’s about we TAXIDERMY these beasts?!?!?!”
Siouxie immediately gasped, lept from her bed, jumped up and down, and shouted “YES!!!!!!! GREAT IDEA, Diane!!!!”
“I know,” I responded with a wink and one of my famous side smiles.
So I grabbed the birds and swiftly snapped their necks, just like I had learned during the time I spent on that organic free range chicken farm in Des Moines during the ’90s.
When they were good and dead, I collected my kills and carried them into the kitchen, where me and Sioux set up our at-home taxidermy station. We called over the girls, Leslie, Sierra and Rosa to help.
I’ll spare you the gory details of the process but let’s just say Rosa vomitted, and unfortunately contracted piegon mites, but the birds looked perfect…even better than they did alive. We even dressed them out in little outfits and made them act out little plays. It was so cute!
Then I had another great idea- if we put the stuffed birds back outside on the Window, it would keep the other birds away! When I told Siouxie of this plan, she began to weep uncontrollably.
“Diane….,” she blubbered, “thank you…you have saved me. I can finally be at peace!”
“Shhhh…” I said, soothing her. “No need to thank me.”
the birds (post-taxidermy) after we put them back outside…can you tell that they are dead?? doubt it
Siox told all her friends about our venture into taxidermy, and the requests for us to kill and stuff various animals/people/things have been pouring in. Guess you can add “Freelance Taxidermist” to my many list of jobs :)
Thats it for now,
Diane
hero
(via allthingsabominable)
Movie Review: The Hunger Games
I know you guys must still be waiting for me to tell you whether or not to see the new #1 tween smash sensation, The Hunger Games- so for the late review, I apologize. I had to refuse my VIP ticket for the NYC premier because my landlord had barricaded me and my roommates in our room in an effort to get us to pay him rent. And it’s like, I’m sorry Gerry, I don’t have the money! Cut me a break, jesus. I am working a very full schedule (25 hrs/wk) at Mother Molly’s Milk, and after groceries, medicines, paper, ink cartridges, hammocks, party hats, vinyl records, art supplies, diapers, booze, food, new socks and undies, and weed, I just don’t have any money left over for rent or whatever. I’ll get you back next time.
Anyways we were trapped in our room with only tuna cans (roughly 50-70) and NO MAYONNAISE to live off of for however long Gerry decided to keep us in there. Naturally, Rosa Suexzie and I lost our phones after a wild night out the DAY before Gerry decided to sequester us (so typical). So we had no way of contacting the outside world. Otherwise I would have just called the fire brigade to come and kick Gerry’s ass and let us out. We tried shouting from our windows but most people probably thought we were just joking around. It was sort of like a “Girls Who Cried Wolf” situation- we have played this prank so many times before (pretend to be kidnapped by our landlord in our own apartment) that the neighborhood people have probably become desensitized to our shouts for help.
We finally agreed to trade Gerry our George Foreman grill and Rosa for a month. Rosa wasn’t very happy about it, but whatever she can take one for the team. So, Rosa went over his apartment to cook and clean, etc, and me and Helga hopped over the rubble and ran outside as fast as our legs could carry us. I collapsed on the beautiful pavement outside began to kiss it and roll around on it, shrieking like a mad woman.
“I’m FREE!!!” I shouted. “SWEET, SWEET WORLD. HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU.”
Helga collapsed to her knees and began to sob hysterically, throwing her arms up at the heavens and thanking God. I thought this was hot so I sauntered over to her, grabbed her face, and gave her a big kiss. She kissed me back, gently. Her face was wet from crying and her tears tasted salty, which reminded me of the tuna that I had been eating for the past 8 days.
“Oh my god…” I whispered in Helga’s ear. “I am so fucking hungry.”
Helga’s eyes widened and she jumped up with a start and ran down the street, presumably to our organic grocery store, Brooklyn Natural. When we got there we took all of the roasted free-range chickens off of the rotisserie and just went to fucking town.
