Category Archives: I’m so and so/I’m this/I’m that

“You got the wrong girl, Sam.”

Cleaning apt. 302 over the weekend & organizing the vinyl mess & Casino comes on the TV, it makes a girl realize, heavens to mergatroid, I’m basically the Ginger of K-town

except not really and with less coke and fewer hustler tendencies and except that my thing is records rather than shiny things or furs.

Oh lookie, it’s that album they had a whole nerdtastic seminar about and that I missed because my people did not alert me to the situation.

Oh. This too. Just cuz it doesn’t really go in another post.

Otis in Zurich.

Imogen Pools is a biter.

Holding, offsides, interference, roughing the passer, illegal use of hands, tripping.

She is a British actress (28 Weeks Later) who is attempting to one-up me with the stuntery below.

Elle, April ’09

Fine, except the thing is, come see me when you get yourself an original copy of Ghetto Music*, Imogen!
Yeah I said it.
You are not, in fact, as vinyl-nerd-ish as me, nor are you even close to being as hiphop as me, and you damn sure ain’t as BDP as me.

Here’s the door, here’s your hat, coat, and mitt
Cause here we read from the blueprint


“Mr. Burns arms” – my mother the comedian

Camilla Belle is a biter

We all know I had a lesbatronic moment with her but the way to my heart is not by plagiarizing my style. If I dealt in cliches I might say something like “This town ain’t big enough for the 2 of us.

Calm down,
be yourself,

and don’t sweat the technique*, fellow skinny girl with thick eyebrows.


(that album = pending post. One day it’ll all make sense.)

Super icey MySpace message game proper

It’s so corny to post self-indulgent stuff like this, I think we all agree, BUT

goddammit if the closing of the message below didn’t make my week.
It’s sorta confusing but sorta wonderful and charming.

Also, young LA male below whose identity I have protected: I got some Chomsky on my page, obvs. I’m so leftist it hurts. Hi, have we just met?

Some real quick self-indulgence from yesterday…

Starring me, in my birthday dress for birthday lunch. Look at my very large head.
Oh dear; not cute.

Starring me, looking like my name is Gianna or Sofia.
“I am just a simple girl from a village near Genoa.”

Starring birthday presents I received from those who adore me:

Oh. Worrrrd.

Looks like an L,
but it’s actually

I approve of this design. Gimme.

$100 later

Real quick,

The humans reading this will probably never know too much about me, as I choose not to disclose too much on here. This is because: a) I’m rather boring; b) when I read about people’s activities on their web logs, I’m bored (‘cept for Rez). Mag wheels, Tecate, your friend’s living room, out to dinner with your sister, your new fitted. BO. RING. I wouldn’t do that to you guys; c) I am not an exhibitionist and this is my most charming quality (next to my fat ass).

However, my interests are pretty evident. At the Beat Swap Meet on Sunday, I met several members of my dear readership and that was lovely. See, I told you: a) I’m a real person; b) I’m nice, skinnier in real life, and a little socially awkward! A charming combination!
LA freaking legend Icey Ice (!) extracted cash from my hand at the Stacks booth. And an extra special thanks goes to the grizzled old white man who sold me about 20 records for $1 apiece. Life is wonderful.