angry lesbian fights back

scene outside of henry's coffee shop:

angry lesbian smoking. 45 year old burn out dude wearing bogus hawaiian shirt with workboots and nappy long hair. burn out approaches angry lessie to bum a smoke. dialogue:

burn out: "hey good looking."
lessie: "that is not my fucking name."
burn out: "can i buy a smoke?"
lessie: "go fuck yourself."

i return to my book and iced americano. i laugh and make a failed attempt at making friends with angry lessie by shrugging my shoulders and rolling my eyes as he walked away. this may have failed because i was wearing yellow instead of black. hard to say where i went wrong. but i did. so i left.

erratic idiotic behavior by erin l morgan

today i pedaled my happy ass all the way up to 38th street planned parenthood on my bicycle. i took meridian. this was not an intelligent choice. people were passing me at 60 mph. i had a sweaty butt crack. stoop dwellers hollered loudly. i yearned for my ipod to come back to life. i saw a man riding his bike with a baby on the handlebars. things got weird.

next halloween.

i'm going to be waldo from where's waldo. it's going to be epic.

doot.

doot.

my life as a realist

i am not really a realist. i was just reasonable for like 2 minutes, then thought to myself "was that realistic advice?" the answer: yes, it was!

i thought, wow this is great. i no longer have to wallow and wonder "am i being pessimistic or optimistic" i can just know in the dark crevices of my heart that REALLY, i am a realist. not really.

mini marathon

a few equations i'm tossing around

erin + running 13.1 miles = completely absurd

2 x $50 mini marathon entries + craigslist - running mini marathon = nice dinner and a bottle of wine

20,000 yuppies + over priced high tech athletic apparel - erin indulging in social lubricants = gross

running 13.1 miles - being chased by a tiger for 13.1 miles = why the hell am i running 13.1 miles if i'm not being chased by a tiger?

A tug at the heart strings.

There is this blind couple. They walk. Everyday. With their sticks and their windbreakers they walk. They've memorized their path. They walk it together. Everyday. I wonder if there was ever a time when one could physically see the other. I wonder what they imagine the other looks like in their mind. I want to talk to them but I don't want them to know I watch them walk. Everyday.

studio image

today a very large man sat on the bench next to the front door of the studio. this man was pounding a 2 liter of Faygo and eating little sausages out of a jar. it's been decided he is the new face of Invoke.

warm melty goodness

sometimes i worry that i'm having a seizure. sometimes my eyes and brain get stuck on things. just now i watched the American, Indiana, and Red Cross flags flying against the grey sky for 4 minutes straight without movement or interruption. maybe i should blame it on the music i'm listening to: Bassnectar. hey, it's new to me too. sitting here at work i feel like a lonely cat in a window. the front of the studio is a bit of a fishbowl.

i want my bike. the tires are flat and i can't find my pump. foooey. spring fever is pumping through my veins. that devilish feeling. blast.

My shortcomings as an automobile owner.

It seems I write a blog like this every winter. I suck as a driver and caretaker of motorized people moving gadgets. Totaled the Crimson Cruiser in my neighborhood. Whoops. Purchased adorable VW Rabbit the day of 09 blizzard. Brilliant.

Yesterday I received a call from my bank. The conversations goes as follows:
Bank: Hi Erin, This is Charter One. Do you use Progressive Insurance?
Me: Yes! Oh, shit.. why... did they cancel me?
Bank: I don't know about that, but a teacher just called to report that a child at her school was playing with the check you wrote to Progressive.
Me: WTF. Thanks postal service. Not the band.

I hang up the phone and step out of my front door to notice that my new car license plate is gone. Nothing. Not even a paper scrap remains.

Cue Coyote dropping an acme anvil onto the hood. I expect a flock of geese will have taken a mega crap on it as well by the time I leave the studio. Bullocks... do I hear a tow truck????

salute your shorts

Camp Anawanna we hold you in our hearts... and when we think about you, it makes us wanna fart.

an ode to my kitty

Mister Meow Meow Head is a bit under the weather. As it turns out he ate a penny (as in a one cent piece made of copper) and it became lodged in his intestine. Poor little guy. I've decided to pay him tribute and send him positive healing energy through the mastery of song.

Kitty, oh, kitty. You got a penny stuck in your butthole.
Mister, oh, Mister. You tried to steal my money but failed and ended up with a clogged butthole.
Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow. Sorry bout your butthole.