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It has never been a better time to purchase an exclusive Abernathy Green t-shirt, designed by our own [livejournal.com profile] drawgirl. Why? Because [livejournal.com profile] drawgirl  and her boyfriend Slasher both got laid off their respective jobs this week. Merry Christmas, guys! 

If cute-culture is not your thing, check out Slasher's Jack of No Trades line for a more aggressive, political look.

Abernathy Green and Jack of No Trades shirts are comfy, high-quality, and sweatshop-free. This is a great time to support an independent artist and get a cool new shirt for the new year.
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Much of the movie was spent singing, very quietly:

"Indiana...Dr. Jones...Indiana...Dr. Jones Jones Jones..."

...to the tune of John Williams' music. I believe this joke (if you can even call it that) was started a few years ago when [profile] drawgirl, [profile] hplovescats and I were busily writing Indiana Jones: The Musical! while tossing back tequila shots. Sing it through once and you'll never be able to hear the theme song again without muttering our perfect lyrics under your breath. 
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While playing "Moonage Daydream" on Rock Band:

[profile] drawgirl: Is this from his Ziggy Stardust period?
me: Well. Given that it's a song about gay alien sex...
[profile] drawgirl: Oh yeah.

Rock Band is a game that perfectly understands and embraces the most important parts of having a real rock band: 1) Coming up with vaguely obscene band names, and 2) Buying your rocker new cute clothes. So far our X-Box contains band names like the Bints, Bad Panty, the Barackers (that one was [community profile] junkyard's idea), the Anatomically Correct Dolls, and V-Jay D-Jay. It's also possible--even likely--that the "character creation" module has seen more use than the actual game play itself. But there are tattoos to place upon your Barbie Doll Rock Star! And like twenty hair-dos!

And yes, we have done other things besides play X-Box since [profile] drawgirl got here. We also watched a bunch of TV and played Dungeons and Dragons.
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1. [profile] drawgirl is here. WOOT. Bring on the Mexican martinis.

2. New Janet Frame story--posthumous of course--in the New Yorker. It's incredible.

3. Muppet Show soundtrack on repeat in my vehicle.

4.
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So as per usual we were talking about porn, the topic at hand being the website Slasher's been hired to work on. The website involves a lot of specialized fantasy-sex multimedia--literal fantasy sex, as in magical sex. [profile] drawgirl was elucidating the manifold possibilities to [profile] spacecowboytom in the backseat of the car in a perfect monotone: "You can have vampire on werewolf, vampire on fairy, vampire on elf, vampire on dark elf, vampire on succubus..werewolf on fairy, werewolf on elf, werewolf on dark elf, werewolf on..."  The three of us busily came up with various other magic-sex opportunities (centaurs, mermaids, time travelers, Ziggy Stardust, etc).

me: What about superheroes? What about like magical superheroes? Like Dr. Weird. Isn't he a magician superhero? Could you have superhero on werewolf?
drawgirl: Er...do you mean Dr. Strange?
me: Whatever. Sure, Dr. Strange.
drawgirl: (pause) Well sure, but only if he was a magic magician.
me: Oh, a magic magician? Really? Was he magic? Did the magician have some kind of magic powers that made him magical? Thanks for specifying.
drawgirl: You know, as opposed to someone who was bitten by a radioactive magician.
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Many glasses of wine later, [profile] drawgirl and I had resolved all the details of my wedding. Not only will it be a theme wedding, but it will be a pirate theme wedding. And not only that but it will begin with the boys on one sailboat and the girls on the other sailboat and the girls boarding the boy sailboat (maybe while swinging on rigging lines!?!?!?) and grabbing the boys and taking them back to the girl sailboat and then the wedding happens! I plan to wear a blue naval jacket and a hat with a feather. AND there will be rum.

No this is not a wedding announcement, by the way. This is just the wine.
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[profile] hplovescats sent me the following video with a note saying he thought it'd be "right up my alley." Does anyone else's boyfriend send them things like this?



The only thing I find annoying is that I didn't make the movie first. I've been making this joke for years.

Even more interesting, though, is the hot new product coming out of South Africa: the anti-rape condom. I spent a good chunk of time on Rapex's website going over the tersely worded FAQs after [profile] drawgirl forwarded me the link. Check out the Rapex font for a clear idea of what this product is about. 
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Just wanted to give a shoutout to both [profile] spacecowboytom and [profile] drawgirl...let the nanoing commence! And because I know the pressure can get to a person, because I know that every word of the 50,000 bears the burden of your genius, because I know the crippling anxiety of living up to your own brilliance, I offer this as solace.

EDIT: Now in its entirety thanks to [profile] blozor.
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Some of you are aware that the excellent [profile] drawgirl and her boyfriend have spent the last six months starting up a screen printing business. The majority of their creative juices have been poured into their t-shirt lines, and finally, finally they have the website up, so that I may pimp it.

[profile] drawgirl's line of cutie-macabre babydolls is the Peppermint Shrimp label. And Slasher's line is No Idol, which I like to call "Shirts for the discerning gentleman to get his ass kicked in." Check them out; the site is still vaguely under construction but you can see the shirts and of course make purchases.  [profile] drawgirl has a few more coming soon, so check back periodically if you're interested (she's got to, ahem, get our former house settled before she gets a chance to produce more shirts).

At least one of you have expressed dissatisfaction with American Apparel babydoll shirts. If you like a Peppermint Shrimp shirt but don't want to strap your bosoms down in the waifish constraints of what American Apparel considers "medium," let me or [profile] drawgirl know and we can work something out on a O/S shirt. All the No Idol shirts are a bit bigger, and they can also always get bigger sizes if you like a looser fit. They are way flexible.
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1. Move is slowly coming together. Cats need health certificates, and I'm slowly trying to acclimate Jack to the car (he's terrified of it and yowls frantically every time it starts moving. Meanwhile, Bodhi's just like "Hey this is cool, but can I have a phone book to sit on? I can't see out the windows.")  [profile] hplovescats and I need to plan our route and start making motel reservations that are pet friendly. Oh, that's the other update: Hodge is moving down with me now instead of next year. I feel kind of guilty uprooting him. That said, he's from Austin and his family is there, and I don't think this is the worst move we could be making. Also, we're hoping the Austin post-production industry will be fruitful for him.

2. I totally love my sister-out-law, who we'll from here on out call Sis in a privacy-protecting gesture. She is adorable. She's four years younger than we are and she's an artist and designer, but also a big old geek who watches buttloads of Fruits Basket and Inu-Yasha. Also she is helping us find a house. She's been driving around Austin peeking into windows of rentals and reporting back to us. Tomorrow she's going to actually go inside and if she feels good about the house we'll probably sign a contract (since she has awesome taste and knows what we want). I'm really excited to live near her, because she's fun and I've always wanted a sister and I'm totally too shy to tell her I think of her sort of like my sister but I do.

3. Our 4th was fun. We have patio furniture now! After three years of us whining every summer, "Hey, we should really get some patio furniture," [profile] drawgirl finally invested in some and it is totally awesome. We have places to rest our asses, and also shade! So we sat outside and grilled and drank. Then we blew stuff up in the streets.

4. Left a message at infinity tattoo. No one has called me back yet. I am going armed with about 20 Rischa sketches from [profile] drawgirl and a few ideas. I'm hoping we have time to finish a partial sleeve before I take off. That's right, I'm gonna do it. I used to have this fear I was suddenly going to become vanilla in my old age. Considering my aging process has consistently taken me away from soccer mom-dom, I'm not going to worry about it anymore. Also: if I'm going to end up a soccer mom, I will be the soccer mom with the best fucking tattoo and the most pimping hybrid minivan. And the other soccer moms will have secret crushes on me. Rock.

5. I was super domestic this last week. I resized a gigantic old t-shirt (my Reed O-Week shirt with the Trojan horse waiting outside Eliot Hall, which is maybe the dorkiest thing I own? No, that's a lie.) so now it looks super hot on me. And I made my first pie. It was a vegan pie and I'm not so sure the crust turned out but the banana-chocolate filling was tasty. I should have taken a picture of me in the shirt with the pie so you'd see how Doris Day I was.

6. Still sad about the move. Still having wild mood swings. But hanging in there. It's all good.
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So the excellent [profile] drawgirl, who managed to escape childhood without learning to ride a bike, recently purchased an apple green Schwinn 10-Speed over craigslist. Slowly, she's been teaching herself to ride it. I put on my rollerblades, she takes the bike, and we do a few circuits around the block every night. Her balance has gotten exponentially better, and even though she sort of creeps along and stops at every corner, she's picking it up really fast.

Well, tonight we get outside and started around our block, when a trio of young cyclists round the corner going the opposite direction and zoom on past us. There's a girl of about nine, a boy of about eight, and another girl, seven and with long purple streamers on her handles. I turn and grin really big at [profile] drawgirl, who just glowers and says, "Don't even say a fucking word."

"Watch your mouth, there are children present!"

We get going at our glacial yet determined pace. Within a few minutes (read: inches), here come the children again. One, two, three, like nesting dolls on bicycles.

"Make way for ducklings," I yell at [profile] drawgirl.

"You are shitting me!" She grits her teeth.

By the time we've made it down one block, the children have lapped us (going the opposite way) about three times. The oldest girl meets my eyes shyly and curiously, and the boy behind her cuts close by my wheels, tempting death. The youngest leans over her handlebars with determination, pumping her little legs to keep up. Every time they peel past us, [profile] drawgirl stops and looks aggrieved. It becomes apparent that they are on the very same circuit, probably strictly instructed by parental units to "only go around the block and for Christ's sake be careful on 41st."

We pick up some speed as we get going, and it becomes this funny little community of wheeled creatures. The children quick and confident, the adults wobbly and laughing. Finally I come around the corner, and the oldest girl is standing by her mother saying something quietly to her. The mother says, "Well it's great that she's learning, because then she'll know how forever and ever." When [profile] drawgirl appears on the corner the little girl looks mortified, afraid she's been overheard.

Mom says, "Hope they weren't in your way?"

[profile] drawgirl gives a wry smile. "If anything, we were slowing them down."
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I got home tonight and found a Mother's Day card on my pillow.






I know the pictures are kind of crappy; in case you can't tell, the can says: "Tuna for cats." It accompanied the card.
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The subtitle of this post could be: what I do at work all day.

An excerpt from our gmail chat session earlier:

drawgirl: i like living in your head. it's cozy and a lot of the stuff i like is there.
zenith:     like serial killers!
drawgirl: ,,,
                  ...
                  um... no
                  no that's the stuff I keep in the attic
                  not the nice sitting room with the comfy chair
zenith:      ,,,
                  i like your innovative ellipses
drawgirl: they're dripping blood for halloween

Happy Halloween/Samhain/"generic harvest holiday," everyone.
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Yesterday Slasher brought over a copy of Guitar Hero, and after consuming a marvelous good feast courtesy of Drawgirl, we moved the furniture and rocked out. No, wait, I'm sorry...RAWKED OUT. Nothing but capital letters for the Cock House Five (which was the, uh, inspired name for our band that [profile] hplovescatscame up with). Okay, so the game is ridiculously fun. You get this little controller, and through a variety of button pushing and lever waggling you the player get to rock out. Much like Dance Dance Revolution, only with a toy guitar. I'm sorry, with a MIGHTY AXE! 

Anyway, there seem to be two kinds of people that play this game. One is the Stoic. You know, every band has that guy. He usually plays the bass. He stands there just playing the guitar, nodding at his own vast competence from time to time. As the mighty oak allows the wind to howl through his branches, so does the Stoic stand, feet planted, letting the violent forces of rock blast against him without swaying. Most newbies seem to be Stoics, largely because we are just trying to get the right damn button.

Then there's the Showboat. Slasher is in fact a Showboat. Slasher was the individual we had to move the furniture for. He jumps up and down. He swings the guitar around. He plays it behind his head. He gets down on his knees and plays to the gods of rock. He is also more good at this game than any working adult person should have the time to be. Though I will say, by the time I started getting the hang of the game, it was becoming obvious to me that I myself will be a Showboat when I can do it without losing track of the buttons. I just couldn't help it. I wanted to move my shoulders around. I wanted to tilt the guitar up. I wanted to thrust my hips in obscene ways and throw up the horns at the screaming crowds chanting my name. 

If you are a compulsive singer, I would advise wearing a ball gag during this game. As I discovered during "Ziggy Stardust" and "Killer Queen" both, it is not for the novice to sing and play at the same time. You wil forget the difference between green, red, and yellow, and your fingers will fail to obey you. Just concentrate on the damn buttons. 

Also: avoid "Crossroads." Eric Clapton is not a Guitar Hero but a Guitar Demigod, and you should not try in your hubris to reach that star else you will only get carpal tunnel. Or make your tendonitis angry with you and spend the rest of the evening with an ice pack pressed to your wrist.

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