Bird.s.

A little white breasted bird,
just a tiny wingéd puff of meringue,
perched on an eve of the old sugar factory.
I thought, “Sugar bird, I could be you”.
So of course I was quite stunned with she flicked her tail and flew away.

Three indecent acts Kimberly hates to see perpetrated in public places:

1. Loogie spits
2. Cigarette flicks
3. ‘Snot Rocket’ shots

All pedestrians should be prohibited from producing and poliferating these repulsive projectiles. Especially on windy days….days very similar to today, in fact. :[

Quote of the day:
“Curly head! Yo! Curly. Hey Curly head! You got some curly hair on your head, Curly Head!”

Lingling

My little sister and my mother make movies together and then submit them to online competitions.
This one, which has made it to the semi-finals, is compiled from 2006 Christmas footage. I gave everyone a brightly colored drag queen wig from a New York wig shop. As you can see, they made for some silly times around the xmas tree.

Kudos to Leah (a.k.a Lingling on Bopsta.com) for channeling her inner diva. Sassy.

Vote for her at www.Bopsta.com/lingling

I’d like to thank the Academy.
And my friend Drew for hosting an Oscar shin-dig hootenanny fiesta.
For which, I am late.

My money is on Mirren.

P.S. I quit my one and only job today. Soooooo being broke is back…kinda like a certain oscar winning cowboy movie.

Sometimes I am surprised by my own vehemency. Since when did conversation become conter-conversationial? Cannot I not ask you about the book with underlined notations inside it on your own bookshelf about its significance culturally and historically? Is that too presumptuous? May I interject betwixt the ironic 80s iTunes playlist and the horizonitally stripped sweater fashion (under)show?
When did hip become it an end all of itself? and when did I become a part of it?
Thats why I’m surprised when hipsters/scensters won’t/can’t engage in a real covnersation. It disheartening, because this is MY generation. These are MY peers. Hellllllllooooo??!? Stop talking about your belts and your pink lipstick and your ‘The Cure’ poster. Stop walking by me is mock dis-interest. I am in your home. Your workplace. Your local social outlet. Lets engage…..in topics less superficial…..less dismisive…..and less disregardable. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt….why won’t you do the same for me? I promise that I’ll surpass expecations….or is that part of the problem?

On this brisk, blustery, but bright afternoon I shall endeavor to walk into Manhattan via the Williamsburg Bridge, where I shall rendezvous with friend and fellow intern, and in turn, return to Brooklyn, albeit to a different locality than mine own place of residence.

I have done this walk many time afore, but not since the tempatures dipped below 40º these two months past.

For fortitude and fuel, I have eaten an egg in addition to my requisite bowl of oat bran.

Thus begins my four week committment to the Wooster Group performance schedule of Hamlet, performed at St. Ann’s Warehouse in DUMBO.

I am Fortinbras, marching forth.

Eating like a cow….literally

Alfalfa sprouts are my favorite. We not so very different, bovines and I.

Browsing the urbanite and oh-so-ironic book selection at Urban Outfitters (I know, right?!) I thumbed through a book entitled, “Everything I Ate: A Year in the Life of My Mouth”.
Essentially, a NYC man named Tucker Shaw took a photo of EVERYTHING he took a bite of in 2004.
Tucker and I share a few favorites, the most prominent being oatmeal (which has nutitiously and economically sustained me through my college years and beyond).

Here’s what his publisher had to say about Tucker’s book :

Shaw likes cold cereal. Bananas, oatmeal, ice cream, Popsicles, trail mix and brioches also figure prominently in this peculiar illustrated chronicle of every food Shaw tasted in 2004. Everything. In a gustatory form of navel-gazing for the new century, Shaw snapped a photo before taking a bite of anything from fine dining to his almost nightly bowl of cereal, and has assembled the pictures in order by day, creating both a dizzying collection of the copious food available to the contemporary urban dweller (Shaw lives in New York) and a delectable look into one man’s life. Many of the pictures are small and hard to discern, many hunger inducing, some unpalatable. Each is accompanied by a brief description telling when, where and with whom the food was consumed (for take-out, Shaw also usually notes the restaurant the food is from). Some foods are photographed in front of the television or a newspaper; some include a hand or other errant body part. Certainly not for everyone, this daily repast is mundane and repetitive, yet holds genuine appeal for foodies, current and former New Yorkers in love with the city’s dining pleasures, and those who just find the quirky habits of others intriguing. “

eeeek.

my internet is down. indefinetly. what is a blogger to do!?!

to be continued.

I am totally fascinated with all the Britney Spears gossip flying around.

She’s bald?!
She’s checked into rehab. For real this time y’all.

And why do we care? Isn’t it creepy? I picked up a month old OK! magazine and there was a Trimspa ad with Anna Nicole Smith. The celebrity world has gone sour.

veHICLE.
sickle.

scoot scoot scoot.
like a scoooter.

who
whoooo
whooooooo.

do yoooo wear a monicle?

whooouuuu are yuuuuuuoooo to scruuuuutinize. but maybe yooooo shuld duuuu. du yu no bedder?

ihf u have gravity then mhaybe u no the priciiples (not pals). don’t decipher them, just divulge. i’ll seek whut needs to be sought whn nicissary or naught.