In 2001, blogs were very new things. In fact, as much more time was spent arguing talking about what blogs even were, and where they fit into the media landscape than was spent actually, you know, writing in them. In fact, I don't even think the word "blogging" existed back then, and whenever it arrived on the scene, it was used pejoratively to describe the equally-distasteful "bloggers" who were on the verge of not just threatening the status quo, but disrupting and then changing it forever. I read a lot of blogs (many of them were just called online journals or something similar), so when I made my first stupid website at Geocities (RIP) called Where's My Burrito, I put a blog in there, right next to my hit counter and guest book. My first entry in that blog looks something like this: So the votes are officially in.
ATIAC will return on Monday, March 18th because I (finally) moved to Glasgow and there is a whole lot of anti-jetlag napping, lawfully wedded intercourse, and unpacking that needs to be done. Apologies for the delay. It’s tricky, moving over the ocean. But hey, I’m finally on the same continent as my wife, for good. For better or worse, even.
Dorothy Gulliver in a publicity photo for The Collegians. (via vintagegal ) 1920s Harley Davidson Mobile Booking Cage. (via kateoplis )
This morning I had a fight with Victor about towels. I can’t tell you the details because it wasn’t interesting enough to document at the time, but it was basically me telling Victor I needed to buy new bath towels, and Victor insisting that I NOT buy towels because I “ just bought new towels “. Then I pointed out that the last towels I’d bought were hot pink beach towels, and he was all “EXACTLY” and then I hit my head against the wall for an hour. Then Laura came to pick me up so we could go to the discount outlet together, and as Victor gave me a kiss goodbye he lovingly whispered, “ You are not allowed to bring any more goddam towels in this house or I will strangle you “. And that was exactly what I was still echoing through my head an hour later, when Laura and I stopped our shopping carts and stared up in confused, silent awe at a display of enormous metal chickens, made from rusted oil drums.
“Hey dude! You’re up! Check it out, I found a HUGE carrot in your fridge! Look at this thing! I can’t believe how much of it I’ve already eaten! So listen - looks like that apartment I was checking out fell through, so you get to have me on your couch for a few more weeks, bro!
19th March 13 Please put in order from “completely unacceptable” to “completely understandable.” I know the golden age of the “oh, I don’t even own a television” snob is over, since everyone with an Internet connection basically co-owns the television inside of the Internet, so I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging. I’m simply stating the facts. OK, fine, you got me.
Having a GAY OLD TIME. Wish you were here. Graceful, rhythmic Dancers of Hawaii.