“I was out to dinner with three strong, capable, intelligent young women the other night and all they could talk about was men. I was like, ‘If you don’t change the topic in the next five minutes, I’m leaving.’ My life is not going to revolve around any guy.” — Chloe Sevigny
“All the problems we face in the United States today can be traced to an unenlightened immigration policy on the part of the American Indian.” — Pat Paulsen
This quote dovetails quite nicely with my own strongly-held belief that WE ARE ALL GODS:
“God did not create man in his image; Man created gods in his.” — The Thinking Atheist
I’ve noticed that Comic-Con has a strange effect on people — in that sort of like Garrison Keillor and a “Prairie Home Companion”, everyone says they really love listening to it because they THINK they should really love listening to it — but NO ONE REALLY DOES LOVE LISTENING TO IT. Do you know what I’m saying? Because it’s actually a cloying, cornball, piece-of-shit that, if you really think about it, makes you want to kick ass when you’re listening to it…OR, take a dump on the floor as a social statement.
But then, that’s just one hooker’s opinion.
As I’ve written elsewhere…despite just the worst kind of bastards always going on and on about how fabulous it is, COMIC-CON MAKES ME WANT TO BEAT ASS. I swear to christ, in the three times I’ve gone, I was there not 15 minutes before I wanted to cunt-punch a XENA and take a gottdamned dump on the floor as a social statement. Comic-Con is OFF TRACK.
Yeah, motherfuckers are gonna lose their shit when I say it, but since when has that EVER stopped me? So, say it I must: I’ve been three times in the past few years…and I beg of you to trust me when I tell you that COMIC-CON IS COMPLETELY OFF TRACK. All the fat, AWESOME 27 year old Asian guys dressed like Picachu are the only good thing about it.
Last night, Gregory and I spent an amazing evening at the STUNNING Hollywood Hill-top music studio/cat temple/sanctuary/home of our friends, Ronnie Pontiac and Tamra Spivey, whose band, Lucid Nation , will open both your eyes and your heart to the truths all around you — and change your motherfucking life.
Aside from the glorious food, company, and conversation, we were privileged to be among the very first people invited to hear the music from their latest project, “Mommie Dearest the Musical”, which will undoubtedly be a HUGE success when unleashed onto the world (the incomparable Bruce Vilanch wants to direct!). Needless to say, we were completely BLOWN AWAY.
Ronnie and Miss Tamra…thanks so much for allowing us to partake of the awesomeness of yourselves and your colleagues and compadres. The evening was one we shall not soon forget. I can’t wait until the rest of the world has the chance to revel, delight, and stand awestruck in the brilliance of what you guys have created.
Much love to you. xoxo
Thirteen glorious, BELLY LAUGHING hours on set yesterday filming the opening scene of our latest Charles Band EPIC, “Gingerdead Man: Saturday Night Cleaver” (think Brian De Palma meets Mel Brooks meets John Waters)…and those who have read the script are already bellowing, “CULT CLASSIC!” Now up and drinking coffee and washing my vagine in preparation to go and write on yet another piece of work.
LIFE IS GOOD.
“No More Games. No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun — for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax — This won’t hurt.” — Hunter S. Thompson’s suicide note, 20 February, 2005
muffy bolding 