this week has come in pairs. nsaids and ice packs, bananas and nutella (recipe), digital prophets and guffaws.
in the midst of these combinations, i have been continuing the massive clear out. get ready, pnw. i am unleashing my tshirt collection (which took me almost 20 years to amass) on your unworthy thrift stores. (i really should save these and donate them in chicago but i would rather not move them. again.)
also biting the dust, the giant box of collage material. most of it is now in the recycle bin but a small portion of it will be pasted into this book.
fuck you and your blog indeed. now to add "glue sticks" to my bday wishlist.
perhaps you are wondering why there is a cropped reproduction of hans holbien the younger's "portrait of henry viii" in my house. good question as it hardly seems to be doing anything here and i am not a fan of royalty.
but i AM a fan of "horrible histories". and HAHAH i embedded a motion sensor that causes henry to talk in ben willbond's voice. holy crap, this KILLS both me and leff. we've been walking past it all night. here's leff's vine. and here're some crappy vids so you can get some idea of what's amusing us.
i can't really give you any new text as i'm still not doing much (still waiting.). am in the middle of the word exchange. i'm finally watching that simon schama doc series and finishing up the zippy tim marlow "nude in art". (if you are keeping track, *this* series is what is making me think i need to spend a week in paris next jan tackling the louvre.)
none of this matters to the cat, however.
i lie. if i'm gone for a week, she will be pretty pissed off at me for about an hour after my return.