"if i start having marxist thoughts about elvis, you start having technological solutions."

i miss the quoteboard aspect of communal college living. the heading is what i said to ed when he kept having those shower-inspired good ideas while i was busy working on an assignment.

you've probably never desired to read a marxist essay on elvis, but i have just finished one, on the day of the birth of my Mother, no less. and though she may not remember to call herself such, she may indeed be a bit of a marxist and maybe even an elvis fan?

the assignment was to find a way to write about the most-written-about figure in pop culture from our own critical angle. it took me about twelve minutes to open the only book that they actually had at the library out of my list of twenty and find my hook. i use it in a paragraph about clearasil. really--i consider myself lucky. i've never been a savvy researcher. things just happened to go my way this time. and now i can't sleep because i got so jacked up on caffeine to finish this thing (dragged ed on a 2am walk around park slope), and it's only kicked in now that i'm finished.

so i'm drinking a beer and posting halloween pictures.

i was a corkscrew for halloween, the anthropomorphic kind with the head that twists and the arms that you push down. terrible thing was, i brought a bottle of wine to the party in williamsburg, and there was no corkscrew to be found. so i walked around dumbly with the unopened wine, dressed as the very thing i was missing. i even had a bit where i spun around and jacked my arms up and then sprung through the air. meant to drop a cork when i did it, but i couldn't open the wine to get it...

first pic shows my headpiece and 'wings' (made out of a fresh direct box, tinfoil, and foam coil), the second my legs as the twisty stick-in-the-cork part (foam coil wrapped in aluminum tape).