Shortbus, $389, Jamie, Severin's art

(no subject)

I would like to set a playing card on fire and watch it burn. Maybe do a few and take pictures of the later ones, but not the first one. But I don’t have any incomplete decks of cards - actually, I only have two decks of cards in my whole house, and they are both a) from Mini Arts Camp, bane of my 12 grade year, may it never be forgotten and b) pack of a Texas Holdem set. And I don’t want to break up the party. Maybe Celeste will give me a playing card, if I let her burn it with me.

I should be in bed, I tell ya.

room of balls, xkcd

(no subject)

My name is Joy and I am actually considering putting something here. I haven’t, in the past, because what do I have to say? My stories are too afraid to go onto the internet willingly, and my life is just … mine. I was a foot model for a foot fetish website for 6 weeks in September. My group of friends has recently absorbed a British girl with a name funnily spelled enough to rival my seamstress bud, and I am selling her hair online for 1 000 dollars. I just spent about an hour ripping the staples out of 4 billion copies of my resume - quite impressive for someone not-quite in collage - to print my friend’s novel on the back, because who the fuck am I kidding? I am considering become a hair mogul with the money I make selling Brit’s hair, but my girlfriend doesn’t think it stable work. I write beat poetry. I can remove a girls bra with my feet. I am not going back to work until my mind altering medication has a chance to really settle into my system.

And I really haven’t got a thing to write about. But I think I would like to write. I think I am going to try.

(If worse comes to worse, I spent the last for years at Canada’s number one Arts High School learning Literary Arts. I can always just post my writing, kicking and screaming all the way.)

There goes my LJ's virginity.