Current Project

Giving the people at Facebook's H.R. Department something to laugh about at their most likely miserable jobs: legitimately responding to presumptuous ads that suggest I am:

Pregnant, nursing, in want of children, wanting to be near children, wanting to buy baby clothes for my imaginary child, buying baby bottles that look like sex toys, going to Target for their baby sale (they sell babies, too?), am interested in having a child in the near future despite my single Facebook status, and am most likely watch Teen Mom with a vat of Chubby Hubby ice cream next to me and my youth draining away watching someone else's terrible motherhood.

One bad decision just creates a domino effect.

And for some Romanticism to lighten the mood, I give you:

Natsumi Hayashi! I found her recently. She's a young Japanese photographer who times her camera just right to take photos that make her look like she's floating everywhere.

It's a simple idea but I like thinking it might have a deeper meaning, at least for me.

Regardless of romantic nonsense, this caught my eye considering that the "most bizarre" stuff coming out of NYC right now is fucking Tyler Shields. Great photographer, but dude, don't waste ounces of spilled human blood just to paint a huge heart. You didn't even make it a cool suicide piece with your dead body lying next to it, blood spurting from the severed vein you gashed to create the masterpiece, just a cookie-cutter (notice the word) heart.

Here is some of Hayashi's more recent work: http://www.webcooltips.com/unusual-levitation-art-photos-floating-girl-without-gravity.html

Oh Hello Internet, we meet again

So this is a real blog, real time, real talk. I was thinking about not keeping one but considering that I need to keep my blood pressure low and I like talking about things to non-responsive third parties, I thought "What the hell, at least the shit I yell in traffic at passing motorists is funny, it could be sort of humorous on the Internet."

I like books. They are incredibly underrated in today's age. Go fuck yourself you Kindle-reading prick. I don't care about easier technology, I care about a warm piece of literature in my hand that I can smell, breathe in, spill coffee on and read over and over again until the pages get so bent and worn down that I know I know every word in the book. Books on the slab currently are:

1. Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
2. Summer Crossing by Truman Capote

Two completely different ends of the spectrum but whatever. Hardy is what happened to everyone before Lexapro; attention goth and emo children, put down your exact-o blades, you have met your match.

Capote is one of my favorite writers and the name of my blog is based off a quote that opens his last and unfinished novel, Answered Prayers. That book is acidic, raunchy as hell, and is probably the best bitch-slap he's ever given before his untimely death (what liver?).  This one, however, claims to be his first novel and is all about a prissy uptown girl affair-ing with a nice Jewish boy under daddy's radar (now now honey, our club is restricted!).

I have high hopes for both. Expect a full report in about a week. This is just my "Hi, hello, I'm not dead yet" post.

All right, let's see how this blog thing turns out. Ladies and gentlemen, we are floating in space....

Hello, My Name is P.B. Jones

If I could do anything, I would go to the middle of our planet, Earth, and seek uranium, rubies, and gold. I'd look for Unspoiled Monsters. Then I'd move to the country.

Florie Rotondo, Age 8
(Answered Prayers, 1987)