not dead
so I’ve been introduced to a Chinese buffet place in town. you can see it from my fucking window. yes!
I haven’t posted anything in about a week, but here’s what’s up:
I designed a kickass page for the Weekend Ticket. someone’s grandmother called me up and why I didn’t include a picture of the Wizard — her grandkid — in the “Wizard of Oz” package I featured. I told her it’s because I’ve always hated her grandson.
later that day, after discussing this incident, the editor in chief told me I dress like a 7th grader. I was wearing a DARE shirt.
shortly thereafter, I sent in for the Post-Tribune.
and: these here are a collection of photos on my desktop that I never had a change to use. but, for the most part, they’re pretty self explanatory.
not self explanatory. “hey, brother. smile.”
there’s a free daily paper called the “red eye” in chicago that everyone reads on the train, bus, etc. on the way to work.
the equivalent of the ids pretty much. equally well-written and informative. a paragraph about a car bomb in iraq killing 63 people, a half-page to tom brady reportedly getting it on with giselle. you get me.
anyway, the front page today was: Male Rape Victims Speak Out.
…a-wah?
there’s nothing humorous about rape. nothing at all. men raping men is no exception.
unless of course, it would’ve been smith’s face on the cover.