ickis.com / Julene Horowitz

Actually I’m pretty sure this is the perfect explanation as to why people don’t make it past date three with me, really. (However I have trained myself not to create or answer any “list” type questions. It’s for everyone’s benefit, I promise.) I still love Henry Rollins, and I feel all the better for knowing that he can probably get himself off in less than five minutes. Ah, romance!

I don’t feel the need to love people. I want to love the night. I want to love darkness and the magic that happens on Earth when the sun is gone. I want to love music and solitude. Oceans and deserts, cities and empty streets. Patches of earth that have been left devastated by disaster. Miles of land where everything has been rendered extinct or moved on. Leave this part of the world to me. People are too painful with their beauty and their desperation.

Preach it, brother.

Sorry about the blog meltdown there guys, sometimes I guess that shit just can’t be helped. Actually, it could be helped if I backed up my blog myself & quit relying on anyone else to do it. We were able to restore some shit, and other stuff I pulled off Google cache… so aside from comments everything should be as it was. Let me know if I somehow missed something, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t.

I just got back from six days in Long Island, which was pretty much amazing in every was possible aside from the fact that I never knew subways smelled so strongly of urine. That must be the hazard of growing up somewhere with essentially no public transit.

Last night while in the grocery store I saw Henry Rollins and almost peed myself. No seriously, I know people say that all the time but I almost lost control of my bladder. I can’t help but be fascinated by someone I see as comfortable with his own inner rage towards society at large… not to mention able to handle being lonely. I didn’t say hello, or try to initiate conversation because I’m sure he really just wanted to buy some food and get the fuck out of there. This is definitely better than when I awkwardly ran into Davey Havok at Starbucks earlier this year (literally). Maybe living in Hollywood isn’t that bad if it means throwing myself down aisles of the supermarket to avoid making an ass of myself in front of people I actually have some semblance of respect for in this town.

While we’re talking about respect, I think this may be the best article about Sarah Palin that I have come across online. I don’t care about how badly you want a woman somewhere in the White House (aside from being a First Lady, I suppose) please tell me people aren’t stupid enough to believe this woman is in any way going to appropriately look out for the women of this cunt-ry. Oh look, I made a punny!

I don’t even care if this man really is a 47-year-old self-hating homosexual (yeah, that’s the rumor)–he’s hot. Moreover, he’s a complete jerk that writes about his inability to form a functional emotional bond with women. Obviously he is exactly my type.

Do you know what these sweaty pits tell me? He is a man!

His Recountdown Tour is only going to be in one city in all of California, yet he has two dates in Colorado. This is a sick joke, right? Oh, and the place he’s going to be out here is like 5 hours away. Someday I am going to get the chance to sit around and watch him rant about shit even if it kills me.