beg, borrow, steal

You hit me with a flower

i'm sorry for being sparse, but really, Gala and I are going through a weird three week comatose, where as last night I think Gala got something close to a concussion (but who would notice anyways?) and I, a bruised tailbone. Vicious?

PS. 

I think lookbook is the most ridiculous social networking shit website ever. It has come up in conversation often this weekend. Are there any other ways we can become even more self obsessed? Just throw on some clothes off your floor and get out of your house. What's the big deal? Everyone can put themselves together. 

present

bloody mary breakfast busting up the scene

thank you to my lovely friends who celebrated with me, thanks for throwing me around wrongbar like a football. now my entire body hurts and i have a bruise on my face that looks like i've been in a fight. (photos rachel woroner)

barely legal for life. 

ORDER HEDONISM

from le pressier

you know, because i'm just that unreliable....

but you can order it from me as well...i'll post a link for paypalling the new issue of HEDONISM eventually. 

xxx

a little bit in love

TROUBLE IN THE PALACE (INTERVIEW)

LET ME TAKE YOU OUT (PHOTOSHOOT)

icing on the cake

this weekend. 

champagne weekend, whatcha gonna get me?

excerpt

oh, oh, ohhh

the night came down on our throats like a knife---bloodrush. 

blood became like oil, valuable and easily set alight. the crux, the crux, the crux, 

in amounts we've measured with such anticipation, we've timed and formulated. 

the roots of our teeth soon shake at the sight of your shadow, 

ghost of a shadow of yours. Still

lingering in the halls of the apartment, 

moments we would otherwise forget still mask the routine smells of the kitchen,

the bedroom, 

the bath. 

Down your throat through your nose out your ears. Familiar notes on the baby grand do not reckon recollection. you tip-toe-ing 

down the road with a hand full of all-purpose-cleaners,

 you wrapped in scarves upon scarves trying to set yourself

aflame by the embers that do no justice 

to your intent. 

Nor I, yes sir. 

New year's still comes by like a one-night-stand-in, 

all slinky and come-hither leaning on the door frame offering up absolution. 

i throw a tantrum in the middle of the floor, reeling, wriggling, screaming,

t(ee)ring, t(ehrr)ing up cheats sheets and 

other tearable objects of fury. 

You with your commonplace smirk

do nothing but sprawl across the bed as if nothing happens, as if you cannot hear

hello sadness,

"bonjour tristesse...Tu es inscrite dans les yeux que j'aime"

shakedown

.

"how could you not?"

you use me like i use you

our limbs became jelly and this is when i knew what it was i was to do. 

SOMEONE STOLE MY BROWN LEATHER JACKET FROM THE CROOKERS AFTERPARTY. 

GIVE IT BACK ASSHOLE 

v-day

change for the better.

we made you a star

with dust and the dirt under our nails

everything is borrowed

If it’s bleak, or if the week’s leaking down the street
or if any days wasted I want to face facts.
My time on this earth is my only penny

loft 910

i will miss the love,



(from the built in photobooth in the living room)

crimson knees

I hope you didn't get too bruised/bloody in your costumes. I went as a less stark version of Wednesday Addams, I even had a slightly headless doll to carry around. It was quite a marathon, I went to seven different parties. A-ron and I were walking around aimlessly for a while, the lissy/virgins party was fun, expecially when everything started getting fucked. I went to beatrice for a bit, and got lost in the crowd and drank gross vodka waters. I hope Ralphi Lou and Misty loved their first american halloween. I took loads of photos. updates soon. I'm going to take a nap.