Sitter
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
My escape plans have increased in frequency lately. Case in point: I am here with Cousin Whammy at the Very Intelligent Couple’s place for a few days of house-sitting. Besides providing extra human presence in the house, we are also obliged to play videogames with Killer Juancho, the VIC’s bloodthirsty little boy. On the whole, however, all we really have to do is just be here to keep the house from getting too sad. Anything for a change of scenery, I suppose.
Also went with Pubey Boy, my brother in all things dastardly and bastardly, to the screening of this Bloc Party documentary last night. The documentary was the typical concert footage interspersed with interviews deal, and there was this one part that cracked me up a bit:
KELE OKEREKE, lead vocals, sits on an old couch with the rest of his bandmates, staring at the ceiling in the languor expected of him.
Kele’s eyes slowly roll down to stare at Dumbass American Journalist, and the expression on his face grows more and more incredulous as the seconds pass.
Humor me here. I have a house to sit.
The screening was, of course, Hipster Central. Asymmetrical, one-eye peek-a-boo haircuts for the boys, pink lace-fringed, skull-print skirts for the girls, thick, black-framed glasses for all for all for all. And headphones. So many, many headphones. If I had a peso for every blasé look in that place.
Dylan, that cunt from Jack TV, was there, too. No amount of arm tats can save you from pretense, my dear.
(Whammy just interrupted me from blogging, asking if the girdle he lent me is making my tummy sweat enough. It is not. I never said I wasn’t a victim, too. I’m just as contrived as everyone else, dallying in this off-kilter parade the city puts on. I just can’t wear pink lace for shit.)
My point is that I craved all this diversion in the first place. I’ve been very angry at myself for the past two weeks, and all I need are those little chances to simmer down. This affected cunt needs to get ‘erself some of that there affeckshun, too, yeehaw. Even from the strange embrace of an empty house.
posted by marguerite @ 5:32 PM
|
