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I went out after all, when the rain slowed down. faster than you can say jack robinson i was in my red gator-skin-print pants and the cute shirt T. got me for my birthday (of which I should really take pictures someday soon, I suppose). Every pair of shoes I tried to wear had cat vomit on them, so I lurched around glaring for a while and finally found a pair that were relatively unsullied. Ew. (anyone who has cats knows that it's much easier to let the vomit dry before you clean it up. wet vomit is a bitch to clean.)
Went up to the bookstore, drank tea, was restrained and only bought Juxtapoz and the New Yorker fiction issue. There's a contest in Juxt wherein one creates a meat-related artwork in the hopes of winning a copy of Mark Ryden's new book. Fuck yeah. They give you until 8/1. I won't win - my draftsmanship is pretty poor, especially in comparison with that of all the other fine readers of that august publication. But entering will be fun.
Went up to the bookstore, drank tea, was restrained and only bought Juxtapoz and the New Yorker fiction issue. There's a contest in Juxt wherein one creates a meat-related artwork in the hopes of winning a copy of Mark Ryden's new book. Fuck yeah. They give you until 8/1. I won't win - my draftsmanship is pretty poor, especially in comparison with that of all the other fine readers of that august publication. But entering will be fun.