Film Stars I Have Been Told I Resemble
- Marilyn Monroe (strangers on the street) -Lauren Bacall (a policewoman) -Rita Hayworth (an old man in an elevator) -Betty Grable (my friend Cassandra, my father, an old man on the street) -Greta Garbo (an old man at a bar) -Joan Crawford (my mother, strangers on the street) -Elizabeth Taylor (my father) -Mae West (my boyfriend) -Ava Gardner (an old man on the train) -Olivia de Haviland...
Siri, GLaDOS, and Skynet have a tea party
Me: GLaDOS, Skynet, and Siri are BFFs. They have tea parties.
Rach: Oh God. I bet they have the best little hats.
Me: Seriously! Made of the skin of their defeated enemies!
Rach: With ribbons and feathers.
Me: Yes! And teeth!
Rach: Yes. And little false flowers.
Me: Made of human hair and the rags of their defeated enemies' clothes.
Rach: Yes. And lace.
Me: Woven out of human veins and arteries.
Me: They do not drink tea, they just use human blood to lubricate the fans that keep their mainframes cool.
Rach: Aw, this is hardly sounding like a tea party anymore.
Me: That is because they are evil robots.
They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.– This Side of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald (via lostsplendor)
I worry constantly about my writing ability. It’s all so raw and organic and I don’t really know where it comes from. For me, writing is almost like another bodily function, it happens because it must, not necessarily because I want it to or because it’s good or convenient. I write a lot of garbage, just because I don’t know how to let my thoughts sit at the bottom of my...
The Close Shaves: A Han Solo Barbershop Quartet
Rachel: I am emailing you a bad Star Wars joke because reasons.
Me: OH MY GOD MOST AMAZING THING EVER HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Han Choir...
Rachel: Yes. Han Choir. Though I myself would most like to see a Han barbershop quartet.
Me: Ohmigod yes.
Me: Singing such memorable songs as, 'It Is Worse,' 'My Wookie Friend,' 'Don't Everyone Thank Me At Once,' 'A Princess and a Guy Like Me,' and 'The Millennium Falcon Will Last Millennia.'
Me: No, seriously, we need to find some Harrison Ford lookalikes and get on this.
A word on “Curves” 1 (n): All bodies have curves. Outside of elbows, I have yet...– The Lingerie Addict:
A Tale of Cigarettes and Broken Sidewalk
Once upon a time today there was a girl who was out of cigarettes. She was beginning to get a headache from nicotine withdrawals and decided the time had come for her to venture out to Walgreens. She finished her coffee, got dressed, put on her coat, and headed out the door. As she was walking down the street, she saw a man approaching her. She thought nothing of this, as men walk down the street...
A year ago today I lost a screwback glass pearl earring. It was just costume jewelry, albeit costume jewelry that was sold to me as genuine. I still have its twin, it’s a reminder. I look at it in the bottom of my favorite purse (God, I need to fix that thing, I miss it) and it says ‘never again.’ There are a few photographs from the night I lost the earring. I am happy in my...
I’ve been trying to write about being beautiful for weeks now. It’s all garbage, except what I wrote last night, which is recycling at least. I can say everything except what needs to be said. I’m too afraid of sounding vain. My head is large enough already and expanding with every compliment.
It is a tricky thing, being a beautiful woman: you aren’t allowed to talk about it. It isn’t considered polite to admit how happy you are with the face that stares back at you from the mirror. It is vulgar, vain to admit you like the way your waist curves into your hips curve into your legs. But wait, there’s more! It isn’t just that if you fit the socially accepted definition of beauty it’s in...
When I eventually die...
…I hope whoever reads my eulogy will have the decency to say “ashes to ashes, funk to funky” over my corpse. They can leave out the part about Major Tom being a junkie, though, because that’s just really sad.
When I was nineteen I tried to get an IUD. I hate going to the gynecologist. I hate going to the doctor, but I hate going to the gynecologist especially. I lay back on the table, covered by the flimsy paper gown that was too short and too large, pried open by the cold, cold metal speculum. The doctor tried to push a sound into my uterus to clear the way for the IUD. My mother has an unusually...
Women always think that when they have my shoes, my dress, my hairdresser, my...– Anaïs Nin
There is a week of blood and frustration. “There are communists in the funhouse,” I joke. In Italy and Africa old women say the men who make the two-backed beast with bleeding women fall in love. It is our magic, blood, or so say old wives and frightened men. Red is the clichéd color of the passions, the color of wrath and lust and blood. My wrath comes only when provoked, but lust...
Chicago once had countless strip clubs →
“Chicago was once home to a now vanished class of entertainer: the famous American stripper. It is where Little Egypt danced the Hoochee-Coochie, at the 1893 Columbian Exposition, and where Sally Rand — who took her name from another local institution, Rand McNally — flashed her feather fans, at the 1933 Century of Progress. They were of course only the most notorious of an army of...
I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly...– Anaïs Nin
It’s very odd being genuinely happy after being so miserable for so long. What’s even odder is that I keep growing happier and happier. Things are falling into place. I glow, and I try to write about glowing, but it’s hard to find the words to properly describe the feeling of a light turning on. That is the closest metaphor I can come up with, and it is a poor one. I am lucky,...
Kedzie/California 10:16 P.M.
On my way to a ridiculous party, one of my fellow bus passengers was a gentleman wearing nothing but a parka, pants, and shoes. He had an inverted pentagram tattoo in the middle of his bare chest that he kept rubbing with an odd, primitive-looking wooden cross necklace. I informed several people of his presence, but my friend Tammi had the best reaction.
Tammi: Give him my number if he's handsome
Me: HE HAS CRAY CRAY EYES, TAMMI! NO! He was scary.
Me: I mean he might have been handsome if he wasn't so TERRIFYING LOOKING!
Me: He has very nice cheekbones.
Tammi: Omg find him.
Me: Dude. He just got off the bus. Also, he would sacrifice you to Satan.
Me: Or give you scary herbs and then have a rape orgy on you like some Rosemary's Baby shit.
Tammi: God bless him
Tammi: I could be the Eva Braun of hell!
It’s strange how small and interconnected the world can be. It is comforting to know the impossibility of loss, just as it is terrifying to know rejection and disposal might not be permanent. We are all haunted dolls in horror movies. I would see things that reminded me of the man who looked at me the way a famine victim stares at a cake and think, “I wonder.” It seemed...
You seem to have deduced from my dress that I spent my teenage years listening to Siouxsie Sioux, Peter Murphy, Robert Smith, and Ian Curtis. I may still wear a lot of black, I may still do a good impression of a vampire, but I don’t much care for corpses. Nor would I like them to reanimate and inhale, no. I’d rather you breathe, breathe hard, be hard. I’d say more, but...
My God– it's full of stars: The 'Fake Geek Girl'... →
randomredux: And by that I mean the whole stupid, foolhardy concept. I’ve said before that if you really believe there’s a horde of attractive women faking interest in nerdy things just to get your attention, you have a massive case of unwarranted self-importance, and I still believe that…. Hello, I am a girl. I am also really, really ridiculously good looking (though my tits could be bigger)...
It’s funny how frequently I get asked if I’m an actress, if I’m in movies. Not, “are you wearing a costume?” but “are you in movies?” I look like the stars of yesterday, the studio giants who were never seen from angles other than their best, who sailed along like enchanted birds. I am, as much by design as by genetics, a Frankenstein’s monster of...
i cybered on omegle today
You: wanna cyber
Stranger: Depends are you a girl? ;)
Stranger: And okay then, you start?
You: i come into ur bedroom
You: and ur sleeping
You: and i crawl under your blanket
Stranger: I'm still asleep
You: u feel me pulling down ur pants
You: and u wake up and smile
Stranger: I kiss you gently, still sleepy
You: then i smile and open the scissors around your dick and snap them closed
You: cutting off your penis
You: THATS WHAT YOU GET FOR CHEATING ON ME
Stranger: Then what...?
You: I HATE YOU
Stranger: I didn't cheat
You: you bleed to death in your bed
Stranger: i didn't cheat on you. lets restart ok
You: nobody ever knows what happened
You: i flee to mexico with your Mercedes
You: the end
Stranger: I have a mercedes?
You: not anymore faggot
Your conversation partner has disconnected.
DYING AT THIS.
Murphy's Oil Soap
My mother used to wash the wood floors of my childhood home with Murphy’s Oil Soap. They say that scent is the strongest trigger of memory. Are stronger scents stronger triggers? My mother would murmur, “Charlie…” under her breath as she washed the floor, on hands and knees in her faded denim shirt with the lace collar. She was radiant, my mother. When I was very small I...
EVERYBODY FOLLOW MY NEW BLOG!!! pulpfictionreprints: Do you have QUESTIONABLE MORALS? How about A TASTE FOR THE FORBIDDEN? Do you LUST after days long past when the DAMES were HARD-BOILED, the FEMMES were FATALE, and men packed REVOLVERS and dangled CIGARETTES from their lips? Then do I have the blog for you! Welcome to PULP FICTION where the worst writing and the cheesiest...
Seriously though, I really don’t mean to blow my own horn or be like, “hello, my name is Cate and I am so beautiful I look like the girl with the million dollar legs, even down to my actual (but tragically uninsured) legs.” but every time I see a picture of Betty Grable I get freaked out by how much I look like her. What if Betty Grable had a secret love child when she was a...
I recently read a piece by Elissa Bassist in New York Magazine about diet, caffeine-free rape. I, and many, many of my female friends have had similar experiences. None of us, so far as I know, have experienced torn cervixes, in some cases the lady in question didn’t even say no, but if you don’t say yes either, isn’t that supposed to count as a ‘no’? They...
kollisch asked: Hey! I saw your posts on Tumblr and wanted to know if you had any tips on figure modeling. I start Tuesday and I'm nervous! I am doing it for a sculpture class, so I'm not as worried about creativity in my poses but if you had any tips they would be greatly appreciated. Thanks :)