I Just Pretend There's Glass.

Work is even more callously boring than ever. I actually went to a meeting yesterday. Can you believe it? At one point I think I was actually holding my head in my hands. I work with someone that has the ability to ask the most ponderous and meandering questions. Some of them appear to go on for millennia.

However ceaseless my work day is I seem to have come across quite accidentally (because everyone within earshot of a CPK wouldn't shut about it) this news about Ellen Degeneres and her poor reading ability and something about her dog and her batshit craziness. Of course now that she realizes that if anything happens to these people she's like 7 shades of fucked so she's telling everyone to stay calm and back off and please don't make her spend the rest of her life with real lesbians. There was a time when I didn't really mind Ellen. I mean for some random Hollywood vacuum quasi queer-idol I thought she was a relatively benign force. But, alas, she falls into that camp of Hollywood dreamcatcher that for a brief moment and for most of the moments in any given day forgets that there are a significant number of people who are smarter than them, are embarrassed by them, and for them really, and perhaps more importantly, draw serious negative judgments about anyone professing a kindness towards them. Almost as if they were wearing something odd on their face. They are essentially the kind of people that can actually make me dislike other people. That, and only that, is the true measure of celebrity.

I really just wish she would have taken the time to consider for moment that it might not be in the best interests of anybody if she simply decided one day quite absentmindedly, and apparently after consulting with her wunderbar attorney, to convey to, well, the country at large, the image of a seemingly professional homosexual as a whimpering imbalanced emotionally retarded douche bent unceasingly on destroying the lives of others in the name of entertainment. Fuck. I really need baseball back.


I'm wondering if I can actually rock the look you see above. It's called the Jetpack sweater although I prefer Jetpack jumper as a matter of form and alliteration. It's from Icelandic knitwear innovator Mundi and is available at Welcome Hunters of course. Your one stop shopping source for all the Nu Rave you can handle. I'm really torn, and I probably am only mentioning it because I happen to have put on a rather ill fitting and let's just say it homely Oliver Spencer shirt, and nothing gets me in the mood for new clothes like tragic old clothes. I have a fairly decent Surface To Air hoodie to wear over the Oliver Spencer so there's a small chance that my day isn't completely wrecked. Anyway, it's between this and a rather plain looking Wings & Horns hoodie. There's also a Peugeot in Burbank I think I might rather fancy. I used to drive a Peugeot. Did you know? I bet the Jetpack jumper has shields.

Oh eff that! I'm all about these new luxe Comme des Garcons perfumes. Yes. Quite.