this thing is now friends only.

that means you gotta be on the list to see it.

because there are some things work people just shouldn't know about.

FUCK YEAH SAINTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


:)

:)

:)

check it out, yall!

someone i've never even met just bought me a paid account! for 6 whole months!

woo hoo!!!!!

yay!

check it out, i'm gonna make a poll:

Poll #1474964 how ya like me now with mah paid account?!?!!
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 18

how ya like me now!?!?!?

the lineup: http://thevoodooexperience.com/2009/lineup.php


oct 30:


JUSTICE
WEEN
the happy talk band
why are we building such a big ship?
March fourth marching band


oct 31:


JANE'S ADDICTION
GOGOL BORDELLO
george clinton and parliament funkadelic
morning 40 federation reunion
sarah quintana
March fourth marching band


nov 1:


THE FLAMING LIPS
MEAT PUPPETS
ROBERT RANDOLPH & THE FAMILY BAND
rebirth brass band
quintron and miss pussycat (maybe)
fleur de tease (maybe)
March fourth marching band
mc trachiotomy (maybe)
katey red & dj papa, big freddia, sissy nobby


notice i didn't put bingo! on this list. that's because i'll see em if i'm bored, but the last few shows i've seen have been pretty meh.

OK so I had a Dell Inspiron laptop that was broken. Now I can't find it. Does anyone know what I did with it? Did I by any chance let you borrow it (even though the power thingy doesn't work? Thanks!

instead of doing something productive, i made a spank bank for me and missy, since we tend to have similar tastes in guys. the other day we about lost it over the same david bowie pic, so today i was inspired.

first off, the picture that started it all, david bowie in 1969:






then i came across this pic of syd barret, holy fuckin shit:






then i started thinking about other OMGHOT guys from back in the day, and naturally, i thought about marlon brando:







ooommmmmggggg




and then i was like...well, i'm sure there's SOME celeb i think is hot nowadays, right?

but no, i went back to david bowie. OMFG OMFG OMFG






but then i composed myself, and remembered that i am kinda in love with frank black:




ok ok, so he's fat and bald, but that guy makes me sooooooooo fucking hot. just listen to this fucking song:


uhhhhhh yeah, i dunno why someone paired this song up with an enigma video, but whatever.

ok so yeah, there are others, of course:

ben harper is always beautiful, and he has the most amazing voice that i am NOT ashamed to admit, has actually made me cry. ok, so i was already depressed, and the song had special significance, but whatever:




and cillian murphy, the guy from 28 days later.....daaaammmnnn,,,







aaaaaaaaaannnnnnddddd gael, dear god this man is gorgeous:






and last but not least, the guy from ghostland observatory. who is not only fucking weirdly hot, but he has more energy than any other grown man i've ever met. and i don't even think he's on anything, because i met him after the voodoo show last year OMFG and uhhh he seemed like pretty normal and calm and shit.









and that's really all i can think of. they don't make em like they used to i guess. either that, or i am out of touch. or maybe i'm just forgetting people that i normally drool over. whatever.

look at the latest shit my yat of an aunt posted on my facebook wall:






Health care is a serious issue and in order for you to judge it you need to watch Cnn or mainly FOX news station not ch.8 . You need to read or talk to others who have it in other countries, it isn't what its cracked up to be' People with s...erious illnesses are comming here because they are still waiting to be seen! The gov't determines who sees the dr,.. first and what rx you get and it may not be the best for your condition but the (cheep) one the gov't gives you. Someone as smart as you needs to research this not just listen to news because you will find out it doesn't work. Do you think all the forginers that come here and don't pat taxes should have care when you pay taxes and am fighting to get it! Why don't you try to Charity that is the old University Hos. ,and I have heard Houma Charity is great! Bouglousa has a Charity I have heard. I once knew someone that never had Ins. because they claim couldn't afford it but yet spent money on hunting stuff, jewerly, grandskids, gambling

yay!

here's a picture of me and my favorite (but most rambunctious and pain-in-the-ass) chicken, Dinner.

car title question:

I have a broken car that I want to donate, but I can't find my title. My car now has a sticker on it from the city that says they're gonna tow it in like 5 days. Soooo I guess I need a new title for the car, so that I can just give the damn thing away. Do I go to the DMV or what?

Where can I get a new title really quickly?

Thanks!

the chickens are bitching because i'm out of chicken feed and Mardi Gras Zone is out, too. I need to call Cameron and tell her to remind Benny to order more.

Today is Dead Dad Day the Third. At some point I guess I'll walk through the quarter and take the Canal Cemeteries bus out to...the Canal Cemeteries.

Shit, three years. I'm still angry my aunt didn't let me keep some of his ashes, and acted like it was impossible, WHICH IT WAS NOT.

This means Katrina Day the Forth will be in exactly one week.

Each year, my guilt re: my dad takes more and more of a shape, like solidifies or something. Like...what's that shit called...petrified wood. My dad had a block of that shit when I was a kid. I still don't think it was ever wood; it was probably always just a rock. Anyway. Like I understand the guilt more and more, but it becomes less and less immediate because the whole thing is that much more final. That doesn't make sense; I'm sure it doesn't to anyone trying to read this. Let me try again: I understand the guilt more and more. It is less and less confusing, which makes it more and more horrific, but less and less terrifying because it is less and less immediate because, as I understand it more and more, I realize how completely final it is (I tried to entertain myself with that sentence). He's dead and there's nothing I can do about it. I can't go back and fix it, and I can't do anything now to alleviate the guilt or right the wrongs I committed. I abandoned that man. He was sick and crazy and crippled and angry and unpleasant and I abandoned him for my own protection. I wanted to enjoy my life. I didn't want to be sick. I didn't want his sickness rubbing off on me, which it had a way of doing. So I moved out of my house and never gave him my contact info. I purposely lost touch. He couldn't call me anymore. He couldn't make a last-ditch effort to come find me. And that's what ultimately pushed him off the deep end. I was all that man had, and I took myself away.

My aunt gave me boxes of his photos and shit a couple years back. Most are of me. He had several framed pictures of me as a little girl in his apartment. I mean, everywhere you looked, there was a picture of me. And I was an ugly kid. I have a box of several framed pictures of myself that hung on his walls for over 20 years, and I never open it.

I found a snapshot of my dad when he was young, drinking a big can of Miller High Life. It's actually a really beautiful photo. I look at it sometimes and kind of doubt it was my dad, because it's such a flattering shot. He looks quite handsome.

My dad doesn't exist anymore. That is a strange feeling, yall. His soul, I don't know where that is. But his body doesn't even exist. I mean, that's easy enough to understand, but when it's a person that is so integral to who you are, someone whose very existence was necessary for yours...wow. After he died, he got cut into pieces by med students. I'm sure at some point they played around with his parts and made his head talk or something. I think in High School BioLab, my lab partners and I made a fetal pig suck its own dick. I wonder if they did that with my dad.

Yesterday at Tulane Med School I picked up a book in my boss's office. It was an anatomy book with really awesome photos. Bisections of the head. Chest wall removed, all organs preserved in the cadaver, clear and detailed photo. Genitals. Eyeballs. Bones, veins, muscles in the hand. Huh.

And now "he" is sealed in a wall in a box the size of a brick. Inside is the "cremains" of his body. After a year of using his body as they saw fit, the med school burnt him up and sent the ashes back to us in a box. The ashes are probably only a small percentage him, a large percentage everyone else. Oh well. So a box the size of a brick labeled with my father's name is in a wall next to a box the size of a brick labeled with my grandmother's name (fun fact: my grandmother worked at Mckenzie's for DECADES, which, according to Missy's mom, makes me a New Orleanian of enviable proportions). A thin slab of marble, again labeled with my grandmother's name and my father's name separates my hand from the empty space behind, in which sit two boxes, side by side, representing two of the most important people in my life. Hm. It's odd.

I wonder if the bottle of TAAKA is still there. I guess I'll see later today.