Geoff is back in town after 3 long months working in Portugal! Huzzah!
Having been in Europe, he was inspired to own a pair of Dr. Marten’s and decided to look when back in Austin.
Bad freakin’ idea.
Do you know that only eight stores in Austin carry Docs? And the first one we went to (Tyler’s) said they no longer carry them because they didn’t sell?
Austin being has fashion forward-backward as it is, it surprises me that Docs aren’t popular. When I think about it, I rarely see the bright yellow stitch adorning people’s footsies here in ATX.
I was not looking for shoes at all because I’m broke as ffffffff, but came across a pair of saddle shoes by Keds on clearance ($25) and IN MY SIZE at Tyler’s! Having size 9-9 1/2 feet means you never find good shit on sale. It also means you look like a clown half of the time. The beauty of these saddle shoes are that they’re made out of soft suede and conform to your foot rather than looking all dumpy. I also have senior citizen knees (more…)
Indie-ignorant and proud: What it looks like to love the musical eras of yesteryear
01.06.12 | 04:00 pm
I have no idea what new music is out there right now. I have the freakin’ pen-name “Hipstercrite,” and I have no idea what people my age are listening to.
I am no hipster, I’m an old lady.
Cherishing my Time-Life 1950’s compilations on tape is what I do best. Loving Meatloaf is what I do even better. I still long for the days when I would wistfully stare at a poster of a shirtless Elton John (don’t ask). I’d probably stare at a poster of a shirtless Meatloaf and enjoy that too. I still have my Stevie Nicks costumes.
I even called Callin’ Oates; when my boyfriend got sick of hearing Daryl Hall crooning from my speaker phone, I was reduced to getting my fix of H2O in the car.
It’s Free Week in Austin, and you know what I’m doing right now instead of catching awesome local acts? Writing this post about how I’m indie ignorant.
I’d love to be in the know (more…)
Have you ever been to Mortified? I have and I nearly pissed my pants and started crying. People recollecting stories of their rudimentary and pubescent years is both entertaining and nausea-inducing. It stirs up memories you’ve locked deeply away, memories that you want no one knowing except for your therapist and maybe your 16 cats to know. It brings you confidence in knowing that you’re not alone, that others were as fucking weird as you were as a child. It makes you feel compelled to share these deep dark secrets with the world. It drives you to drink to forget these memories.
If you’re not as lucky to experience Mortified live, now you can check out Mortified on TV. Starting Dec 5th at 8PM, Mortified will be airing ten episodes of cringe-worthy hilarity on the Sundance Channel. Guests include Will Forte, Ed Helms, Cheryl Hines, Paul Feig, and Alanis Morissette. I’m particularly intrigued in hearing Alanis considering most of Jagged Little Pill was like one giant episode of Mortified.
The day L arrived home from the war he felt alive for the first time in two years. He was coming home to see his boy, jump back into the family business and do nothing but enjoy life from now on. He was far from the fighting and far from the hospital bed he laid in for nearly 2 months in Vietnam. The surgery to remove the shrapnel from his skull left an intriguing “X” pattern across the left of his forehead that resembled that of a laurel crown. It made L look noble. He often stopped before a mirror and traced his finger along the jagged scar. The doctors did a good job, he thought. Even his son Jesus thought his scar looked daring. L was happy that he looked like a hero to his son. If only one person appreciated what he did for our country, he hoped it was his child.
Life became normal after the war. At 7AM he’d drop Jesus off to the private school he had saved up for, then head back home to get started on the day’s work. L was in the animal balloon business. The company had been handed (more…)
Today is Elton John’s birthday.
I remember this because there was a time- a very long time ago- when I would fantasize about that man on a daily basis.
And when I say “fantasize”, I mean exactly that.
I even wrote an essay about it- “Discovering Your Sexuality Through Hairy Gay Men”.
Elton John happened to be the dude I fixated on when my hormones were ragin’ and my nose was growing disproportionately to my head.
This maybe explains a lot about who I am.
Or at least I’d like to think that it does?
Or maybe I’m desperately hoping that it does…?
So in honor of that sexy pile of pasty man dough, I’m reposting my little love letter to Sir Elton John.
Remember that age when you started discovering your sexuality?
That awkward, dreadful time when you didn’t understand why your male friends suddenly felt the urge to show you their penises while you were trying to reenact “X-files” episodes in the basement (more…)