Supernatural Superserious

The book I read right after Angry Candy ended up being another sci-fi/fantasy short story collection. I wasn't seeking the genre, but found it by browsing boingboing.net, which happens to have a science fiction author as an editor. The site provided a link to a completely free download of Maureen F. McHugh's Mothers & Other Monsters. Even though I definitely prefer the tangible method of reading by curling in bed with sunflower seeds, digital readings are pretty damn convenient. I had never heard of this author before, and I certainly wouldn't have bought her book, and suddenly within one minute and two clicks, I had her fiction on a PDF file in front of me.


So, is it worth the read? I think you should definitely check it out. Nearly every story had me in awe over her creativity, scratching my head and wondering how the hell anyone could come up with that stuff. (Gotta be some shrooms up in her diet. 'Fess up, McHugh!) My top three of the bunch are Interview: On Any Given Day (its This American Life-like format is ingenious), Nekropolis (splendid visuals) and Laika Comes Back Safe (can't hate a werewolf love story, even with a sucky ending). She certainly has some really interesting stuff. However, I have to admit that I just wasn't that into it. I couldn't really get into any of the characters, and then even with the long-ass stories that did draw me in, the tale would be so bleak that I'd just be pissed that I had to read all that and not even get a happy ending. The worst one was The Cost to Be Wise, hands down. Ugh! But whatever, it's free! And you can read it at work and no one would know it! Ah, man, I spoil you guys.

Who Are You

I shut down my Friendster page, so I'm going to put the pictures here or else they'll disappear forever. Which wouldn't be so terrible, come to think of it. After all, these are the sluttiest of the social-networking bunch; it went from Lesbo-Makeout-Whore on Friendster, to Still-Somewhat-Skanky on Myspace, to Nerdy-McBookworm (right?) on Facebook. All are legitimate aspects of my character, but I just feel that as I get older it becomes less appropriate to bare it all to the public. But these pix really are the last of their kind; over the years I've broken and lost laptops, and when you don't "back up," losing files and memories just comes with the territory. Since I've pilfered them directly off Friendster, the quality's going to be God-awful.

The reason this pic is so teeny is because I resized it for my LiveJournal icon. Now it's the only copy I have left in the world to remind me of one of the craziest nights of debauchery ever. At least, I think it was that night. It was definitely at Rob's house (Filipino Rob, not Abercrombie Rob), probably during the summer of 2002. We had a lot of crazy nights that involved partying, drugs, and making out. See, I've always been a horny bitch, but I've never been able to give it up to just anyone. I have to care about and like the person a lot to spread my legs. In spite of that, I still made some pretty dumb choices. But that's for some other entry, some other day. So I'd just do my fair share of kissing as a sad substitute for sex. That's Tomo (on the right) and me, back when she had super short locks.

Good GOD. I went semi-blond for a summer. It was one time (ok, ok, twice if you count that I went back to do the roots a few weeks later), and it'll never happen again, I swear! I can't even remember when this was taken, but I'm thinking summer of 2003? I believe this was at a house party, but my memory fails to provide any other details. Look how thin my eyebrows were! Blech!

Ok, my best guess for this is early 2000's, but that's all I can tell you. This is Kelly (on the right) and me, and I think this was at her Jamba Juice coworker's house in Manhattan Beach. Renee, another girl and coworker, was there along with the guy whose parents owned the house. None of us were attracted to him (except maybe Renee?) so I have no idea why the hell Kelly and I are gargling one another's tonsils. It wasn't for attention, and it wasn't because we were hot for one another (we're best friends!) so go figure. I know I was buzzed, and maybe she was drunk, so that's probably what did it. Heh. I remember when I posted this, I made it black and white because my face was redonkulously red from the alcohol.

I totally remember this shot of Trang (on the right) and me. This was done purely for attention; it was the summer (either '02 or '03) we met a group of cute ass mofos from Idaho (Iowa?) living next door to Rob. We were both hung up on assholes who never could, and never would, make us happy, so these boys were a welcome distraction. So we kissed each other and played it up for the whooping fellas. I ended up making out with the hottest one on the very first night, while Trang snagged herself the other hottie of the crew. Good times.

So there you have it. Putting it on my blog is like recording it for posterity ("Look all the hot bitches mommy used to bag! Can you say vagina?"). These pictures are no longer just out there on a single page, one click away for anyone to see. But yeah, I do have a soft spot for Friendster--it's how Bernard found me years later after our initial meeting! Before I closed the account, I tried to save the very first message he sent me. Unfortunately, Friendster had wiped out the info. Bastards. Speaking of B, someone has stolen his pictures on Myspace. Some girl was browsing and saw the other guy, then did a double-take when she found the real B only a few moments later. She was nice enough to send him a message with the link. How creepy is that?!

21 Questions

Alright, I'm squeezing in one more blog, and then I'm going to sleep until 5pm. A few of us leftover from those Abercrombie days reunited last week for Robby. Jesus, how did a whole week pass already?! I meant to blog about it that very night! Anyway, Robby had an 11hr layover in LA, en route from South Korea to Michigan. We all got together and headed to the beach, grabbing dinner at Hennessey's on the Hermosa Strand. (My "Moo Cluck Oink Burger" was divine: fried egg, bacon, and cheddar cheese on top of the fluffiest, juiciest meat.) I hardly ever see these guys, but every time I do, it ends up being the most hilarious, utterly twisted, and thoroughly enjoyable time ever.

It was sunset, so the light was fading. Me and Rob.

So allow me to introduce my boys:
Chuck: Former coworker at A&F, who is a finance whiz and got me an almost 40% return on my investment--during these bearish times! Mad Money fanatic, typical yuppie, Howard Stern devotee, all tied together with a surprisingly good heart (he's from the South, ya'll).
Robby: Former manager at A&F, who is credited for initially bringing everyone together for good times. Avid blogger, voracious writer, and a hopelessly horny romantic. Plans on marrying his gf back home...then again, he says that about every girl he falls for, lol.
Rick: Former coworker turned manager at A&F, he's the reason I was able to stay on payroll and get the 30% discount without ever really working. Basketballer, working on his Master's, and also a hopelessly horny romantic. Rollercoaster of a love life lately, telenovela-style!

The Dorks (L to R): Chuck, Robby, Rick

So they like to play a game called "Would You Rather," which originated in the stores during closing time when the pounding, throbbing music would be turned off, and the eery silence looming over the employees folding clothes would force them to probe into the dark corners of their minds. Typical guy shit would be the grossest stuff you could conjure up, while girls would usually ask, "Would you rather date her...or her? [giggle]" Robby is disturbingly good at this game. "Would you rather take a double shot of heavy flow...oooooooor...take a double shot of really thick spooge? Would you rather give a blow job to a male dog oooooooor go down on a female one?" (The guys unanimously agreed to gobble canine carpet.) Seriously, when these guys get together, it's like an explosion of perverted wit and quips.

Rick: Would you rather get anal raped by a homeless guy with AIDS...except that his dick has spikes...oooooooor--
Rob: What do you mean spikes? Like, thorns?
Rick: Yeah. So not only are you getting AIDS, but you're getting torn up. Oooooor, you get a sex change operation.
Rob: Oh shit. That's a hard one. Uhm...I'd pick the homeless guy.
Me: Really?!
Rob: Yeah! I could probably survive AIDS; I don't want to go through life with a vagina!

Rob: Would you rather be in a room with your parents and have to finger your grandma without anyone knowing, oooooooor be at a family reunion with all your extended family, everyone, and have to give a blow job to Rick on a stage?
Chuck: I'd finger Grandma and tell everyone about it!

Later, after Megan (the girl Rick is dating) left, Rick and Chuck were on my case because I had gushed about her attractiveness.

Chuck: You totally want her, don't you?
Me: I don't want her, but I think she's really pretty.
Rick: Ok, but would you do anything with her? If you had the chance?
Me: [shrug] Probably.
Rick: That is messed up.
Me: What?!
Rick: I would never go behind your back and hook up with Bernard...again. I would never again sleep with him behind your back!

Haha. I love those losers.

Stellar

So it's now a mere three and a half hours since I went to sleep. My sister came home after a night of drama and reiterated it, loudly, at 7:30am to her friend. It woke me up and I started listening in; by the time she was done I was completely mentally alert. So I shuffled out of bed and made the most delicious breakfast: three organic free-range eggs, two pieces of Ralph's brand (so not good) bacon, a handful of crimini mushrooms, two pieces of sourdough bread, and a cup of blood-orange soda. I'm still awake, so I might as well get on with catching up on blogging the books I've been reading.


I first heard of Harlan Ellison only last year, when he was mentioned in this fascinating article by Josh Olson, the writer of A History of Violence. Olson tells the true story of an insane internet predicament that happened to his friend; it's pretty crazy and worth the read. I looked up Ellison afterwards, and discovered that he's known mainly for his sci-fi short stories. Now, while I'm not a big sci-fi fan (it's hard to relate to characters when they're living on the planet Goober of the 62nd dimension), I happen to love short stories. How can I be adverse to something that often packs as strong a punch as a novel, but for only a fraction of the length?!

Plus, you're way more likely to find short stories posted up on a webpage somewhere, for instant gratification. Unfortunately, from my brief research, Mr. Ellison seems to have a reputation for being a bit of a pompous ass, and is very tenacious when it comes to tracking down and destroying any distributed work of his over the internet. However, he was gracious enough to share a couple of stories, Susan and Paladin of the Lost Hour. The moment I read those, I knew I had to read more. So I did more research and ordered Angry Candy, apparently his most acclaimed collection of short stories.

Like I said, I'm not a sci-fi kind of gal...but some of these tales were so beautifully rendered that the whole fantasy element didn't even detract from my enjoyment. My top three are On the Slab (so wrenching that I can't even bring myself to reread it), Paladin, and the vividly entertaining Quicktime. The weirdest shit was The Region Between; I have never encountered a short story as wacky as that one. But mostly, it's just a really well-written collection, powerfully paired with an incredible imagination. If this is sci-fi, it's good shit, and I wouldn't mind getting in on more of it.

Lolli Lolli

YES! I finally found my camera charger, so I was able to upload some new/old pix. I think we all agree it's time to retire this one from Myspace, because I'm freaking 25 years old and, let's face it, publicly whoring it up just ain't cute anymore. I will, however, leave it here along with some details. This was taken October of 2006, during Nancy's 25th birthday bash at Tao in Vegas. I had one shot of Grey Goose, half a mimosa, and I was tossed. Since I rarely get shitfaced, Bernard used it fully to his advantage, and eagerly snapped pics of me and Nance making out. Soon after, she began hurling into the champagne bucket. I took one look, desperately attempted to gulp down the bile, then shoved her aside to project my own vomit into the mix. Yeah, boy! I've got the sexiest stories on the street! Don't make me break out my baby bathtub shots!

I should also take down those hoochie pix on my Friendster from baaaack in the day. Dude, I should just shut down that account. I haven't checked it in years. I'll do that later. My sleeping schedule has been effed lately. It's starting to have an effect on my disposition. I had to play with myself twice today just to get some homework done! (Jaime Pressly's softcore stint in the Poison Ivy series never lets me down. Oomf!) But I have a good excuse for being so nocturnal, seriously! I don't want to talk about it too much though, because I'm afraid to jinx it. Let's just wait and see what happens; it's at that beginning stage where it could go either way. But I really haven't felt this giddy in quite some time now. >_<