Megan Alexandra.
This is stuff that I think about and stuff that you think about.
I Like.
Summer because I can drive with my windows down. Beer at the library. Old things, secondhand things, vintage things. Microwaves so I don't starve because I can't cook. Vitamins because microwave food isn't so healthy. When wrestlers become movie stars. Learning things. Tasteful nudes. Jason Mewes with long hair. Seeing new cities and people and places. Writing down everything.
Music.
Act Fast. Black Flag. Braid. Cosmic Gate. Fedde Le Grand. Friendly Fires. The Honorary Title. Japandroids. Kaskade. Ladyhawk. Land of Talk. Late of the Pier. Library Voices. Manchester Orchestra. Northstar. Ra Ra Riot. The Radio Dept. Reverie Sound Revue. Treasure Fingers. Verse. Wolf Parade. Woodhands.
Reads.
The Average American Male. The Bean Trees. Bitch Magazine. How to Make Love Like a Pornstar. Less Than Zero. Playboy Magazine. Runaway Devil. Vice Magazine. World War Z.
Film.
28 Weeks Later. 9 to 5: Days in Porn. American History X. American Psycho. Back to the Future. The Blind Side. The Butterfly Effect. Charlie Bartlett. Clerks II. Die Hard. Die Hard With A Vengeance. The Expendables. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Goodfellas. Grandma's Boy. The Hangover. Inglorious Basterds. Kindergarten Cop. The Lion King. Little Miss Sunshine. Live Free or Die Hard. Mallrats. Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Religulous. Requiem For A Dream. Superbad. Taken. Total Recall. XXX. Zombieland.
Television.
Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations. Arrested Development. Cathouse. Criminal Minds. Freaks and Geeks. Intervention. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Late Night with Conan O'Brien. Lost. The Office. Third Watch.
I Don't Like.
How I can't make up my mind about anything.
Your face will be on milk cartons.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009, 3:50 AM
Patterns progress across your body and everything is so clear now, don't you think you should break a little more? Your hips don't look that great, your tongue across your lips doesn't make them want a taste. The skin, the back, the hands; what are you asking for? It certainly can't be worth. And sometimes you ask yourself, what are you worth? And although you think it through differently each and every time, the vast numbers and countless encounters never quite assure you like they should. And as a retraction of innocence you let them have their way with you. You plead for just a touch, you beg for just a moment, where the earth stops spinning and your mind stops spinning and there is certain significant, distinguishable, magnetic feeling of peace.