Where are all the naked people at?
Ive been looking for a life drawing class lately. This has proven more difficult than I had estimated. Somehow in this city full of degenerates none of them are willing to disrobe and have their naughty bits articulated mercilessly with a 2b pencil. WTF.
Anyway I think I just lucked out and found the main one that goes on in this city. It takes place every Wednesday at 8pm at a hotel on Queen Street West called The Gladstone. This place is pretty art von farty. They have live music and art showings there, and currently, CURRENTLY they have one artist whoooom I have had the pleasure to adore in person. The lady who taught me how to use bees wax as paint and expressively paint thistles with ink without any kind of self consciousness, the one and only, Loo-py!
<=== That's her right there, looking out surreptitiously. Just like all the time! How uncanny is it that I found my life drawing class the same week Lupe is showing her stuff.
Cory and I are going to take a mosey on over there tomorrow and check it out. Yayyyyy! On the way he is going to give me my first lesson in photography using my Moms old camera. Ive never really been into photographizing on my own, so this should be fun. Hes already mumbling to me about reciprocity in a sinister way while winding the cameras windy thing. Nerd.
Also I am incredibly broke. Thank god pay day is tomorrow. I got a haircut today and had to leave after and run to the bank, which was futile because the little pocket in the bank that I keep my money in is empty lately, then run aaaall the way home and search the couch and under the bed and Corys jacket for money to pay for it. Handing a hairstylist a ziplock baggy full of quarters as a tip is embarrassing. Plus I just lost all my fucking laundry quarters.
My hair is sextastic though.
Kristy if youre reading this, next time you want a really good haircut by someone who knows what the hell they are doing, I now have a place for you.
This week in the city:
– I have seen a prostitute in thigh high white leather boots lean into a cop car window (how NYPD Blue!)
– There was a shooting on our block
– There was a house fire in which someone died on our block (I got to watch it courtesy of my favourite cake shop customer’s cell phone video, the bugger stood there and video’d it, ha)
– There was a mouse in our house. The one eyed kitten ferociously vanquished it, with haste.
– My wife BLONDIE and my husband MOS DEF are playing The Phoenix, right across the fucking street. Im going to be arrested this week.
– A half dozen random old people said “slow down, you’ll live longer” to me on the street. Apparently I walk in a hurried fashion. Or maybe they are just stupid, slow old fucks who should mind themselves lest they get a beating like it was 1903. Knowmsayin? BANG BANG.
– I gave a total of $6.50 to random hard luck stories I came across.
– I ate creme brooo-lay.
– I saw Lars and the Real Girl with Amanda. It was the most adorable movie in the history of the world. I was expecting cheesiness and awkward Farrelly Brothers type humour but it was sweet and good. Probably my favourite movie of all time ever to be seen by me in my life ever bar none.
And Remember, if you go carryin’ pictures of Chairman Mao, you ain’t gonna make it with anyone anyhow.
Thankyou that will be all