Dear Blob,
Each morning as I drink my coffee and read about the impending depression, I consider writing a blob, but ever since I fell in love, I have nothing new to say. The same topics run through my head: reluctant acceptance of the still-present tummy-Roll, less firm these days due to less yoga, due to constant travel; irritation at Miley Cyrus, the Simpson sisters, the Scientologists - however, nothing out of the ordinary; boredom of politics, rising gas prices and the constant battle to fuck fear and live in the present moment.
One-Sentence Blobs of The Ukulady:
-Say, "Heat Flap" and then reverse it, "Flap Heat", several times, quickly.
-I wish cookies were vegetables.
Love The UkuLady
ps: LA lesbians are too cool to have mullets. At Dyke Days LA, my manpanion and I played "Count The Mullet" and disappointingly, we only saw 2 potential mullets. Both were more like stringy 80's punk hair-cuts, like the skinny-legged Silverlake people's hair. For my readers who don't know Silverlake people, they look like very well-groomed gay junkies wearing $200 jeans that make their legs look like pipe-cleaners.
Showing posts with label mullets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mullets. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
Soy Moist Chappacinnos & such...
Dear Blog,
The disparity between Regular Life in LA and Fantasyland at Camp Winnarainbow is ridiculous. At Camp I didn't even take comedy notes because every second was chock-full of hilarity, brilliance and insight. Back in LA, as I sift through major real-life bullshit, which shall go undetailed, I have to remind myself that taco trucks are amazing, rotund echo park cholas with cameltoe bring me joy and there is value in constantly driving. Also:
1. Court-Appointed Pants: these are government-owned pants loaned to the schmuck who shows up in court wearing shorts.
2. Soy Moist Chappaccinos. I ordered one from the Coffee Bean and the barrista said, "what size?" I took pity upon her and informed her that the menu did not actually offer Soy Moist Chappaccinos. Say it. Good Times.
3. Parasites in Paraguay.
4. Opera = art form for the hefty. Couture = art form for the slim.
On an unrelated note, I realized that I would totally marry a corndog, but only if he had a fake moustache and googly eyes. This is because I love corndogs and not because of some dirty reason having to do with the corndog's suggestive shape.
Love The Ukulady
PS: Also, I'm weary of seeing people's ass cracks. Low-rise pants are way too low.
PPS: I opera sang the words CornDog, Marshmallow and Mullet yesterday in the studio.
The disparity between Regular Life in LA and Fantasyland at Camp Winnarainbow is ridiculous. At Camp I didn't even take comedy notes because every second was chock-full of hilarity, brilliance and insight. Back in LA, as I sift through major real-life bullshit, which shall go undetailed, I have to remind myself that taco trucks are amazing, rotund echo park cholas with cameltoe bring me joy and there is value in constantly driving. Also:
1. Court-Appointed Pants: these are government-owned pants loaned to the schmuck who shows up in court wearing shorts.
2. Soy Moist Chappaccinos. I ordered one from the Coffee Bean and the barrista said, "what size?" I took pity upon her and informed her that the menu did not actually offer Soy Moist Chappaccinos. Say it. Good Times.
3. Parasites in Paraguay.
4. Opera = art form for the hefty. Couture = art form for the slim.
On an unrelated note, I realized that I would totally marry a corndog, but only if he had a fake moustache and googly eyes. This is because I love corndogs and not because of some dirty reason having to do with the corndog's suggestive shape.
Love The Ukulady
PS: Also, I'm weary of seeing people's ass cracks. Low-rise pants are way too low.
PPS: I opera sang the words CornDog, Marshmallow and Mullet yesterday in the studio.
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