Fiona Apple, Janeane Garofolo, Angelina Jolie, Stormy, pastels, pens that flow, napkins that don't, cheap dives with character in company and service, live music that somebody else has already recommended so that I do not waste any precious beauty sleep, mmmmh sleep, torchy blues with edgy words, subtle brooding intensity (not mine...I don't have to try that hard), jet setting-if only...if only, tolerance of me (not necessarily vice versa), textures, colors vibrant, layered, house is have is work in progress is goal, stamina, lots of stamina, can you dish it, can you dish it good?
Low key elitists, who possess chills senses of humor and eat shit with a smile but only for pieces of paper on alternating Fridays and yet still know how to Bitch about the Man whilst slave-slave-slaving for the joy of hedonistic consumption. If we haven't died of consumption in awhile, we will soon. I like folks with a certain amount of taint that know how to treat their own toxic waste and display the aftermath with all it's complex striations. Funny fucks get an all access pass, but remember you have to be fucking funny!
Love it!
Dark dramedies with psychological undertones and well executed emotional or physical violence, foreign movies that make me cross my eyes and chew my lip. Dubbed acrobatic porn, that would be funny.
ugh.
Hmmmn...I go through spurts as I'm sure you do, nightly. But my bursts are more sporadic and usually require having my picture removed from the want ad bulletin at your local library. Or whatever trashy smut my sister throws at me in a state of desperate boredom that will keep my hands busy and my mind elsewhere.
What deep seated illusions we maintain. No one is so infallible as to warrant an emotional pedestal, except me. And I'm not infallible but I require a pedestal anyhow. You have to know me to understand. Don't scoff, I said don't scoff!