smoking bulldog pox
09.13.03 @ 11:20 p.m.
I went to Torrid today (why do we go to Torrid, the plus-size girl version of Hot Topic, anyway? Just to check out the different selection of buttons?) and bought a button that says 'mod'. The m & d are blue and the o is red.
I am so hip.
Anyway, this was part of a larger all-day PDX expedition with Martha. Cindy was supposed to go, too, but never got back to Martha about when she was free. First we went deep into Beaverton, by Uwajimaya and Portland Music to see if Martha's sister was home and thence to a yarn place (Martha's sister was NOT home and M was buying yarn to make hats for some babies. Dunno--I was along for the ride). We took MAX downtown to Finnegans to shop for stickers, postcards, and just peer at the toys. We also went to Pioneer Square to Illuminations, the candle shop, to smell things. Which was actually quite fun. And the Por Homme candles smell SO DAMN GOOD. Apparently juniper and tangerine smells like man. Oh. Heavens. Delicious. I can remember a couple of years ago Paige bought a Yankee Candle air freshener for her car that also smelled like excellent men's cologne and we were all just like 'mmmm... nice.' The Por Femme one gave me a headache. Almost all gardenia scented things make my head ache. Too floral. There was much "Ah, this is good, smell this" and "Ew, smell this." And once, from me, "I can't decide if I like this or not," [proffer candle to Martha]. We also chatted briefly with a male employee who agreed that gardenia is generally nasty. Heavens above, though, that Por Homme candle is exactly what I would like my dream fella to smell like. In fact, once I had a dream about Mike Nesmith and he was wearing a leather jacket and he smelled like leather and that candle. Quite a good dream, and unusual in that it featured smells. I rarely dream smells.
Speaking of dreams, I had a dream this morning that Jeff Davis (sometimes of Whose Line Is It Anyway and the oldest son on Happy Family, horrible though that sitcom is) and I were with a older professor type and we were investigating an extremely creepy, cultish family. There were several children of varying ages, though there were two of each age and a horrifying sexual component to the family. It was all very creepy and we were trying to save the poor, brainwashed children. And I adore Jeff Davis.
We also bummed around Powell's without buying anything and eventually went to Lloyd Center to check out Hot Topic and Torrid. We didn't buy anything at Hot Topic, though we spent MUCH time looking around. Same at Torrid except I bought the 'mod' button. Because it was cute. I don't particularly feel the need to label myself, especially since I generally believe if you have to have the label written on you, then you don't really belong to the subculture. And I'm not a mod so much as I adore them. Because they have good dress sense, you know? Pinstripes. I simply love pinstripes. And Jimmy Cooper in the movie vers. of Quadrophenia. He's seriously emotionally damaged and extremely pilled up, but hey. Who isn't? Hah. We also had Cinnabon which we ate in the park then headed back to Beaverton to go to 24 Hour Starbucks.
OH! In the car, driving down Beaverton Hillsdale highway, we saw a boy with the most amazing, hilarious hair. He was just a kind of slightly tragic hipster, but oh. His hair was so shaggy that while we watched, he actually pushed it aside enough to see out of one eye. And it was like, layered. And HIGHLIGHTED in one place. I can't do it justice, I'm sorry. It was one of those times I really, really wished I had a camera.
Life is just too amusing. Why doesn't everyone think life is as absurdly hilarious as I do? It's because I find everything funny that I enjoy my life as much as I do, I think.
Starbucks was nothing special. We basically went to meet up with Amy, who wanted to hang out with us but had other plans for the afternoon. There was very little for us to say to her, which is kind of sad. And also kind of sad because, well, we still don't like her that much. It's horrible and I feel bad about it, but she kind of annoys the fuck out of me. So many people do. On and on about the Cher concert (third one she's gone to on this tour--excessive. I think I'd be satisfied with one concert of any band I worshipped on a given tour. And HOW can you complain about being broke if you buy like, floor seats to THREE FUCKING CHER CONCERTS? Jesus. I feel like I'm stretching it with the decent White Stripes tickets. But those are all the same price wherever you are, so you might as well get there early and get good seats. I digress very much) and then we kind of boredly played madlibs and wrote some postcards. A man in a Beaver costume (we were in Beaverton, mind you) came to Starbucks and hung around inside, and then, horrifyingly, started trying to communicate with us through the window. (We were sitting at an outside table.) Martha looks at me and says "Would it be inappropriate for me to give him the finger?" She doesn't, and the beaver indicates that he's going to come outside to us. (Three girls together--of late we seem to attract guys trying to flirt with us. We avoid the people in mascot costumes and have no compunction about letting the Wonderland guys give us a ton of free stuff. Not that they're comparable, not that much.) The beaver comes out and leans against the building behind me. Amy and I are giggling like mad because, well, how damn absurd is it for a guy dressed as a beaver to be flirting with you at Starbucks? Please let me know if it's happened to you. Martha looks up at the guy and says "Please go away." I try not to look at him and stiffen when he TOUCHES my back. Bad touch. We do not like when strangers touch Ellen. No siree. Amy's gasping with laughter and the beaver touches her shoulders. Martha shouts "DO NOT TOUCH ME" and the guy backs away. I think he could not figure out why she was horrified by him. Later he went inside and tried to sign that he loved Martha and wanted a truce. No such luck. He was ignored. He later gave a girl at a different table a lap dance. It was all surreal and very strange indeed. All this time, a shaggy looking guy at the next table is talking about how vicious beavers really are. My favorite thing was when he was talking about how they'll just come at you and slap their tail against the water as if to say fuck you. Then he said, and I quote, "It actually says that--Fuck you, you piece of shit."
So, you know, watch out for those talking beavers. They have dirty mouths.
Smoking Bulldog Pox is either the title of Unusual Fornication's second album (debut album: Pretty Boots, Let's Have Sex) or the name of an entirely new band. I think I'd rather that it's the name of an Unusual Fornication album.
D'you know, I have two imaginary bands now? My girl version of the Who, which doesn't have a name yet (the two immediate contenders: I'm A Boy or Glow Girls. Suggestions welcome). I'm the Entwistle, Candace is the Townshend, and Martha is the Moon. We still lack a Daltrey. The second is Unusual Fornication, but as far as I know, Martha and I are the only members. Possibly Andrew. Am I the only person who has imaginary bands? Apart from Martha, who has equal credit for dreaming up Unusual Fornication? I think we need a male vocalist because changing lyrics on our favorite songs is a pain. Ah, to have a real band. These bands shall remain imaginary since I'm a half-assed guitarist and Martha doesn't actually know how to play the drums. Heh heh. I just like to talk about my imaginary bands. And, well, you have to do something with your brilliant album titles (and songwriting--Martha, Amy, Andrew and I did write the immortal song "Stranger Danger." I don't care much for "Pebbles," our ballad).
I'm such a geek!
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
