jacktellslies: (rasputin)
I consider myself a patron in the education of my young niece. She was already trained in piracy and etiquette, and at four she is a poet in cloth. In countless nations, the season's fashion is based only on her whims. But she can now identify fairy rings and appreciates stretched ear lobes. We also have plans to ride elephants together. We'll wear shell and horn in our ears, and black boots, which are a sort of family crest, and together we'll collect wonders and survey the empire.
jacktellslies: (algeria 1905)
A dispatch:

I am now living in a former Chinese restaurant, now a fort in the deserts on the border of South Philadelphia and French Algeria. The layout of my post, in part, is as follows: the outside is painted in pink and white stripes. All of the floors are tile, which should make cleanup easier should I require anymore emergency surgeries (please refer to paragraph three). The bedroom windows open up onto an alleyway that does not, as far as I can tell, open onto the street. I've not yet climbed through either of them to go exploring. There is also a door that should open to the basement, but instead opens onto a blank wall. I'll explore that as soon as it opens into a magical realm. I check daily, taking turns employing the various fairy tricks I know. No, I admit, I've not yet investigated the surrounding territories much, but I believe that one should secure the fortifications before wandering out into the unknown. I did venture out in order to find the nearest liquor store, and was thrilled to find it a mere three blocks away. (I planted a flag there, of course, thus expanding the empire.) There is a spider living under the hand crank that opens the bay window in the living room. Her web is the cottony sort, not the geometrically perfect variety; she seems far more concerned with my housekeeping style than her own. Every insect to die in the house thus far is currently entombed in a pile beneath her nest. Clever, gluttonous girl.

Two of my dearest friends are being swallowed up by their own wilderness. I wish them success, cool weather, contented kittens, food that is both interesting and delicious, and at least three of the best used book stores ever to exist within walking distance of their new home. Still: you've won again, Florida. A pox on your swamps.

The pocketing experiment on the back of my neck ended in the company of good friends with a scalpel and a bit of whiskey and blood. I've always wanted to experience a Civil War battlefield amputation, but I expect this is as close as I'll come for some time. As is usual, I was brave, but not necessarily quiet. The whole thing was filmed, both the insertion and the removal.

I have a small predicament. I had hoped to host a party in order to show Fort Ellsworth and introduce various groups of friends to one another. I'd also been wanting to have the chance to spend time with friends on or near my birthday. (I'll be twenty-four on the nineteenth of July.) The plan for my birthday had been to have a picnic and visit a strip club. I'm not sure, however, that I deserve this much celebrating in one month.

[Poll #1011359]
jacktellslies: (seven sorrows)
As has long been my goal, Parker and I have finally joined the ranks of Ota Benga and the electric light in being among the cultural artifacts displayed at an exposition. We count among our friends a few peddlers in flesh, and one of them, Louise, is teaching today at the Association of Professional Piercers conference. He decided last night that he hadn't recorded enough examples of his performing some of the more novel experiments in skewering, and called us to request that we donate our bodies for a short while to science and art. We agreed. Parker's face is once more home to lachrymal silver, and I have a new pocket below the other jewelry on my nape. It was intended, at first, only as a play piercing. I'd never seen an example of the new form that I appreciated, but once it was in place, I actually quite liked mine. (My friends are very good at what they do.) These things tend to reject eventually. I still don't think of it as permanent, but I'm becoming fond of it. I also modeled for various examples of placement markings. Besides his other talents, Louise is apparently adept at spirit photography; today he managed to convince a crowded room that I have notable breasts.


Feb. 21st, 2007 01:11 pm
jacktellslies: (egon schiele)
Last night I went out in a suit and a mask. I've spent the morning lamenting, repenting, rending garments, moaning, wearing ashes, gnashing teeth, and so forth. I'd considered giving up bad art for Lent, but this led me to the obvious conclusion that perhaps I should give up bad manners, instead. My patron saints in dignity, grace, and beauty shall be Emily Post and this distinguished young lady:


jacktellslies: (Default)

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