Dichotomous Hippopotamus

theoriginaljoefisher: x

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 01:14:07 -0700

theoriginaljoefisher:

x

it's good to know...

Sun, 16 Aug 2009 23:34:00 -0700

that if I ever I forget how to be depressed, there’s always Cat Power to listen to.

slippery slope

Sun, 16 Aug 2009 23:25:00 -0700

It’s scary to think that the only thing that stands between me and morbid obesity is about a month of daily french fry consumption.

Summer Storms.......ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Wed, 12 Aug 2009 23:52:01 -0700

me and little one.

Wed, 12 Aug 2009 23:41:14 -0700

me and little one.

Another amazing evening at Agua Caliente Park.

Thu, 06 Aug 2009 22:00:15 -0700

Another amazing evening at Agua Caliente Park.

Is it possible to OD on watermelon?

Thu, 06 Aug 2009 21:22:00 -0700

Something tells me it is. I mean, it seems innocent enough. A melon made of water, during a time of 105 degree days, seems like the the perfect food. And yet…the sugar. It’s filled with delicious, pinky-red, juicy sugar. Sugar that is poised to attack me in some way, that when ingested commences a vicious chain of insulin highs and lows and hormone imbalances and water retention and energy nosedives and weight gain. When is a piece of watermelon not just a piece of watermelon? When I eat it.

I am lucky to live 10 minutes away from here.

Tue, 12 May 2009 13:17:25 -0700

I am lucky to live 10 minutes away from here.

MRI stands for motherfucking really intense

Tue, 12 May 2009 13:11:00 -0700

Leg problems. Need MRI. Go for MRI today. This is what happens.

Led into room. Room with giant MRI tube thing. I ask tech if my whole body needs to go in there. Yes, she says. I lie down on the sliding thing and they slide me into the tube, my head about an inch away from the top of the tube, and freak out. The thing they have given me to squeeze in case I need to contact them in case I am freaking out gets squeezed. I need to stop and take a xanax. I take xanax once every seven years, more or less. This was that day. The mean tech (there’s a nice tech, too) says, “There’s not going to be enough time for it to kick in, we’re on a schedule.” It a 25 minute ride, and it xanax kicks in in about 10. So I went and got it anyway, knowing at least by the time I was done I wouldn’t be hyperventilating. Go back in the tube. The noises are really, really loud. I try to imagine it’s the backbeat for a techno song, but I hate techno songs. I endure, thinking of my friend telling me she’s newly pregnant, thinking about swimming, thinking that this 25 minutes in the scheme of things really is nothing. It goes on for 10 minutes, I endure, I endure. Then I feel electrical shocks in my body, my legs twitch, there’s a current in my arms. This is not soothing. I squeeze the panic button. The nice tech asks if I’m okay. “Am I supposed to be feeling an electrical current in my arms?,” I ask. “”Uncross your arms,” she says. It would have been nice for them to tell me that at the beginning. The mean tech get on and barks, “And stop moving your hips! You’re going to ruin the image if you keep moving!” I was moving my fucking hips, bitch, because there was a palpable electric current running through my body. Nice tech asks if I’m okay to keep going, which I am not, and I decide to call it a day and to come back, or maybe never come back, but to get the hell out of there either way. Mean tech says, “We’ll tell your doctor you need to reschedule because you need meds.” I might have done better if she wasn’t such an asshole and if they had told me, before going in-not after-that crossing one’s arms can make them act like an electrical current. It seems like something useful to share.

Anyway, maybe I’ll just go all Jehovah’s Witness (or is it Seventh Day Adventist?) on this shit and refuse conventional medical care.

capucha: labarceloneta: rockuboff: alohanico: Regina Spektor...

Tue, 12 May 2009 12:48:00 -0700

capucha:

labarceloneta:

rockuboff:

alohanico:

Regina Spektor - ‘Laughing With’

Her brand new single. The record, Far, is expected to be released on June 23.

(via sidestage)

Check it.

This is a beautiful song. I love Regina Spektor. And I think she has a really good point. Sometimes we lose the essential in trying to be intelligent.

aja: Steve Lambert

Sat, 09 May 2009 16:51:52 -0700

aja:

Steve Lambert

unicornology: iguessthatscool:madamezucker: (via...

Thu, 07 May 2009 02:15:14 -0700

unicornology:

iguessthatscool:madamezucker: (via lyricalphotos)

Brutal.

Mon, 04 May 2009 14:39:00 -0700

Brutal.

http://www.lullatone.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/raindrop.swf

Fri, 01 May 2009 11:29:15 -0700

http://www.lullatone.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/raindrop.swf

"Oh, she says well, you’re not a poor man. You know, why don’t you go online and buy a hundred..."

Thu, 30 Apr 2009 22:25:52 -0700

“Oh, she says well, you’re not a poor man. You know, why don’t you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet? And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because I’m going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope. I meet a lot of people. And see some great looking babes. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And, and I ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, and I don’t know. The moral of the story is, is we’re here on Earth to fart around. And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And, what the computer people don’t realize, or they don’t care, is we’re dancing animals. You know, we love to move around. And, we’re not supposed to dance at all anymore.”

- Kurt Vonnegut (via hammerito) (via iguessthatscool) (via unicornology)

Rome Journal - On Berlusconi’s Teflon, Even Scorn of His Wife May Not Stick - NYTimes.com

Thu, 30 Apr 2009 12:56:12 -0700

Rome Journal - On Berlusconi’s Teflon, Even Scorn of His Wife May Not Stick - NYTimes.com:

'Shameless' Silvio Berlusconi buys 18-year-old model a gold necklace for her birthday and calls himself 'her little daddy teacher' | Mail Online

Thu, 30 Apr 2009 12:53:33 -0700

'Shameless' Silvio Berlusconi buys 18-year-old model a gold necklace for her birthday and calls himself 'her little daddy teacher' | Mail Online:

This is so deliciously wrong. LOL’ed.

theoriginaljoefisher: 02 (via calico courtney brooke)

Thu, 30 Apr 2009 10:18:53 -0700

theoriginaljoefisher:

02 (via calico courtney brooke)

The Luxembourg Gardens in spring…

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 23:48:00 -0700

The Luxembourg Gardens in spring…

Choices

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 16:13:00 -0700

So either I finish writing this fucking thesis, or I kill myself. This is not a cry for help, just the voice of an incredibly frustrated non-academic trying to write a 60 page academic paper on a topic on which I am by no means an expert even though I have been researching it on and off for months. The facts seem to keep changing. Or maybe I am seeing things differently. And the fact that it’s on climate change adds a whole nother underpinning feeling of anxiety, because, god damnit, we’re fucked and we’re fucked because of all the greedy motherfuckers who, for some reason unbeknownst to me, have always been in charge of the resources and the power and manange to fuck everything up because of their greedy fuckery and fast cars, and that hasn’t changed, and it will never change. And so what’s the point of outlining the injustice or speaking for the people who don’t have a voice? Unless you believe in god or karma (which I’m not sure I do), what’s the point in pointing out what’s “right”? What’s the point in exposing the injustice? Does it ever get us anywhere? Well, yes, I’m sure it does…probably the world would be worse off if not for the people who cried out “Enough is enough!”. But why do things always start out wrong and then need to be corrected? Why can’t we just do something right for once, at the beginning? To the three people who might read this, sorry for being so vague. Just know that I’m fighting for you, babes, I’m fighting for you. If climate change disasters are as bad as many scientisits are predicting (can we even believe the scientists??? everyone is so biased by funding…) many, many people are going to be royally screwed. It’s actually starting already. But maybe they’re wrong and it’ll just be like living in Barbados and everyone will be happy and be forced to get along with one another. Probably not. Well, none of us is getting out of here alive, anyway. So maybe I just don’t need to bother with the thesis. Not serious. ugh.