I said oh, you’ll know him when you see one of his prints. His stuff was everywhere in the eighties. I image searched him then went to his Wikipedia page. Standing at the sink, still in our pajamas and the pairs of magenta and powder blue latex gloves we wear while washing dishes together, we learned the artist died of a heart attack while doing aerobics in 1984, the same year I took up the sport.
Did you know the name AirBnB is derived from the original title of the classic fairytale The Three Bottles of Rancid Vegetable Oil and The Wise Old Jar of Unlabelled Spices? It’s true.
I ate dinner at 5:00 and now it’s 10:00, a whole seven hours till breakfast. And there is macaroni and cheese in the house that I want nothing to do with but it has somehow learned my name. So scared. If I don’t make it, I just want everyone to know the de Kooning behind the bedroom door I found at a yard sale in Chiapas.
Sonoyta is a very old word meaning speed trap.
Now reconciling my adult misophonia with a childhood anxiety brought on by the Dixieland jazz at Farrell's Ice Cream Parlor birthday parties.
All but sleepwalking through our morning constitutional, the origin of an unseen bird's song eludes me. I wonder aloud if it might be the call of the common Mud Whistler, to which Hiram offers it was probably just the chili.
We’re glue-gunning the most colorful remnants of last year’s crushed egg shells to the sequins of tomorrow’s brunch bonnets which we’ve up cycled from Roman soldier skirt leather from yesterday’s crucifixion procession in the barrio. Christ may be the reason-for-the-season when it comes to winter holiday decorations, just remember to pace yourself because come spring you'll understand that Easter truly is to die for.
Just a note that we have officially entered a post-coulrophobic age. It is no longer necessary to preface links, memes, movie trailers, and other comic actor subject matter with disclaimers about one's own coulrophobia. It is now a given that anyone interested in being frightened by clowns also claims to suffer from the malady.
This documentary about software as a service major player, Adobe Creative Cloud, succinctly and playfully captures just about every aspect of using the suite of applications for designers and visual artists: Installing, randomly logging in, updating its component apps; resolving service issues; and ultimately trying to transfer a user license, downgrade, or cancel a plan.
By all appearances I am just folding towels here in a busy Tucson laundromat. But also I am struggling to explain in Spanish the role of rendered horse fat in fabric softener to a room full of politely horrified women attending a clandestine Tupperware party in Cuernavaca.
And do you promise to love, honor & cherish one another and to clip your toenails every ten days even if you're still coding?