"We bought this house because we thought it had potential," Rousculp said.So my journalist friend is coming by tomorrow early evening to conduct the house tour she completed last week with my friend Tif (of the article quoted above.) It was interesting seeing Tif and Chris's stuff splayed out in the tabloid. My old girlfriend had a hand in painting the mural they are standing in front of in one of the pictures. I've tripped over that Tijuana phallic sculputre. I remember exactly when Tif stripped those stairs. I'm glad she decided to leave them like they are. See that's the problem: Tif is cool. She has great taste. I, however, don't have much to show for myself other than a few pieces of art I've picked up over the years; odd hats, action figures, funky computer equipment going back to the 80's that would make Terry Gilliam jealous, and books--oh so many, many books.
I was telling Middlebrow today that I have no idea what I will show her as I consider myself one of the most boring persons on the planet. He laughed at that. I wasn't serious, of course, but I do wonder now what in the hell is going to be very interesting about the Wilhelm. Undoubtedly the action figures will play a big role in the piece that features my and housemate's furnishings. He's the one that has the cool stuff and his paintings are killer. His paintings, in fact, cover the place, except for those few pieces I've picked up on my own.
Art or action toys? Hats or books? Seriousness or humor. God I feel like I'm being analyzed on the proverbial Freudian couch.
I have fantasized about conducting the entire interview in the gimp room downstairs. The gimp room is the closet-like room in the basement under the stairs. It is a great space and contains a can openner. I have also fantasized about conducting the interview in the fashion of Ozzie Osbourne did in the 80's for MTV. Basically he was hammered or acting hammered and passed out on everything--smashing things or knocking things to the floor.
Damn I wish I were a rock star. Being in my humble profession, however, I don't think such behavior would be approved of. I also imagine my ancient aunts peering over their papers and screeching to their dozing husbands "DEAR GOD LOOK WHAT'S HAPPENED TO SHIRLEY'S BOY!" Not, of course, that my ancient aunts will ever see this hip and trendy tabloid even if it is put out by the stodgy old SLTrib.
I suppose there is something to be said about renting as opposed to buying--its benefits and its pitfalls. I will say that my current lanlord is the best I've ever had, so I wouldn't shit talk him at all in the press. Now my last one: I can shit talk him no end and I still wouldn't feel satisfied. I could also talk about my car-less lifestyle by choice, but that just sounds too preachy.
Ah I forgot about the PoMo blue chair. Yes the PoMo blue chair is always a big hit. I'll have to show you all the PoMo blue chair some time.
Okay, okay, you twisted my arm: here it is. The PoMo blue chair:
I think I will follow her around with my own camera, however, and take pictures of her taking pictures of me. Now that's postmodern, ain't it?