romanticizing about your face

art has never been so fun. Looming white walls, protruding color, curvaceous sinks, swedish photo scouts, and post adolescence screeching.

big blue bus:
At a single whimpse of luck, the blasting is turned off, an odd coincidence sprang by hidden laughter. It came. It came once more.
Stupid people that like pissing off other people are stupid. When David and I got off of our first bus to our destination. We encountered these jerks that for some reason made bad assumptions. I didn't pay attention but we soon became the target of idiotic and restless ridicule and followed by a nehanthedralic movement of throwing anything they can find as discreetly as possible. Thank God the bus came.
A tongue spoken often with dirt and crucifixes, shop and store fronts and modest senior citizens walk about these listless streets. As subtle as can be make a living with the humbled life skills they have mastered, all with unenthusiam and almost resentfulness to this god awful dirty world. Korea town was depressing.
"Take this mutha fucka to the [asylum]"
a place where no one cares about skin color and you can wear your house shoes while waiting for someone who will never come: downtown LA.

museum of contemporary art
the music disoriented us.
They had bagels, bands, donuts, and laura owens. What more could a kid ask for?
the way the colors defied the medium was coherently awesome. Her simple yet intricate technique and detail is subtle and a bit surreal. Truly a great experience. That's enough of pretentious art talk that I wish I could understand.
The first band was loud. The second band was made up of two genders and two people. A soft voice and an experienced saged guitarist. The third band graduated from samo a year or two ago. They were alright, as quoted from a band members brother's friend "They're kinda Pink 'Floydish'". The last band was good for a nice laugh. They were a bit older than the latter, a good 10 or 15 years older, and they had pre recorded sounds and an annoying screaming lead singer that only a mother could love. They got what they deserved as much dignity as someone could have for preforming for high-schoolers only.
pyramid of arrowhead.

jet rag
if only it were tet rag, it would be a nice anagram for 'target'.
In incredible cloud of luck stalked david, alison, and I that day. First the bus we took, had to let on a wheelchair impared man, leaving enough time for alison to cross the street, so we could all board, the as the first bus left the second bus came five seconds later. Dealing with thsi early theme, jet rag started a bit earlier having us as be among the first customers and ultimately pioneers of the massively intimadating stacks of used clothes.
David saw one of his favorite celebrities. She has a show on public access in which she sings and occasionally dances. She happened to be in a wheelchair. What powered this wheelchair you ask, well, her feet, which in itself is hypocrytica, becuse the reason why someone is on a wheelchair is because their legs are paralyzed, get the picture? Laughter insued.
"You can buy anything you want", "I can get piss fuckin' drunk for under three dollars"

home
joint. fruit. di. ugly.

I got three yellow shirts and golden memories. Ain't life beautiful.


posted by Justin at 5:40 PM