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Wednesday, July 3rd, 2002
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1:38 pm - Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?
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Me can no pay rent this month.
Me selling original Sexplastic artwork on my site at discounted price to pay for rent.
Me hope you will at least go check 'er out.
Me am not Jar-Jar.
current mood:  anxious
current music: Speed Stick Don't Work (The Self-Adhesives)
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| Monday, May 27th, 2002
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2:10 am - Heinz EZ Squirt "Funky Purple" Ketchup
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| Saturday, May 25th, 2002
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2:06 pm - Like a High School Reunion Except I Don't Hate You All
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Hey, strangers. I still post my inane twaddle online.
That was all I had for you.
current mood:  mellow
current music: Elvis Costello - Spooky Girlfriend
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| Friday, March 15th, 2002
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3:08 pm - Risen from the Dead, but Back in the Ground soon
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Hi. Do you remember me? Because I sure as hell got your number!
You can take the blogger out of LiveJournal, but you can't take him out of blogging.
My tomfoolery is now available as a limited time offer at
www.SEXPLASTIC.com
Lick a monkey.
current mood:  okay
current music: but are you okay?
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| Wednesday, January 2nd, 2002
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1:23 am - I will post no more forever.
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Within the first hour of 2002, I was hit on by a drunken gay dwarf and a German girl asked if I was David Bowie. Later, a surly bar owner bought me free drinks and then bagged up food for me to take home from a New Year's Eve party buffet. Something else positive happened which could make 2002 an incredibly exciting and noteworthy year (high weirdness, as a new acquaintance might call it), but I won't bore you with the details. Like many, I know this year is going to be a vast improvement on the last, and I look forward to the next twelve months with wild-eyed anticipation and a deep-rooted motivation to seize the fucking day.
The line between my LiveJournal and my RealLifeNoJournal has become blurred to a strange and sometimes ugly extent in recent weeks. I like the New York LJ crew I have been hanging with lately, but I would rather have them just on my RLNJ friends list and not a combination of that and this public forum. Too much room for unnecessary drama and besides, I stare too long at computer screens most days anyway.
So on that note, this shall be my last post. Thanks to all who have shared a laugh with me and please, stay in touch. I can always be reached through my website and my E-mail address and even replying here. Even though I won't be posting anymore, I hope you'll still think of me the next time you invite people out for any, well, high weirdness you can muster up.
Until then, Vaya con Legos and may the force be with you, always.
current mood:  optimistic
current music: Optimistic (Radiohead)
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(35 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, December 27th, 2001
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8:57 am - What did you do this morning?
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Please reserve your Uncle Fester and Private Pyle comments until after I have my ass-stompin' boots on.
current mood: anyone
current music: need a bucket of hair?
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(23 comments | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, December 26th, 2001
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1:27 am - A CHRISTMAS STORY (sans Peter Billingsley & Decoder Rings)
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Having your birthday fall on Christmas Eve can be frustrating. Birthdays are customarily associated with gift-giving, as is Christmas. So for years, upon my birthdate first being revealed to people, they oft respond with the thoughtless ?You must get gypped out of presents because of that.? It isn?t their fault, it?s just the thing to say, like when you?re playing Monopoly and someone inevitably daydreams aloud, ?I wish this money were real.? With a similar kneejerk reaction, I usually smirk with pride at that birthday comment, replying, ?On the contrary, it just means that I get twice as many surprises.? I turned 24 on the 24th. I?m a little older and hopefully a little wiser, so I feel more comfortable letting my proverbial hair down and you in on a life-long secret:
You do get gypped out of presents because of that.
( And of course, you?ll shoot your eye out. )
current mood:  exhausted
current music: at least it's only once a year.
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| Thursday, December 20th, 2001
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3:33 am - STRAY DOG MAULS COUPLE IN PARK!
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For the second time this week, I found myself in Queens.
I don't mean I "found myself" in the sentimental-denounment-of-a-Cameron-Crowe-movie way, rather I was just in da burrough once again. In fact, the destination was the same: Chateau de Disco Love, home to  satanvision, ramala and their little secret agent Nolan.
We exchanged gifts -- a custom Xmas card and CD from me, dinner at a faboo Indian restaurant from them (although Nolan had to stay home to keep an eye on his Dad). Together, we were a goddamned barrel of laughs:
partaking in the luxury I do not have called cable television,
drinking coffee with chocolate ice cream in it,
playing spy games with Double-O Nolan which basically involved him destroying the house,
watching a Teletubbies video featuring a little British tap-dancing girl whose lines were memorized by both of Nolan's parents (frighteningly enough),
watching Nolan do an obligatory jig to the opening of said Teletubbies tape, and
driving ourselves mad trying to link Gene Kelly to Freddie Prinze Jr. through movies in under 6 degrees a la the Kevin Bacon game
Yeah, that's right. Who says fun involves getting off your ass? Of course, my head was so stuffy and filled with mucousy-fresh mucous instead of the usual trivia and smut that I don't think I could have handled more active entertainment than that.
The MTA really is my personal scapegoat.
Attempted to take the subway home around 12:30am with disastrous results... 7 to Court Square, no problem. Then after waiting a short eternity for the Queens-to-Brooklyn G, my train stopped halfway home and an announcement was made that the G was going BACK to Queens and everyone who needed to go to Brooklyn needed to wait for another train. More waiting. When the next G showed up, we were told not to get into the first car because it was "dirty," so we all stepped into the second, which was the actual dirty car because I STEPPED IN VOMIT AS PINK AS avphibes' HAIR. Two stops away from home, the G halted and after another long wait, started going BACK to Queens again! I realized this at the first stop and exited and flagged the nearest cab. The MTA can and will smoke runny asbestos-filled assholes in Hell.
But at least the kids made me pornographic cookies to take home (thank you)!
Last chance for some ZANY stocking stuffers!
current mood: groggy
current music: and I have Kleenex jammed up my nose.
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| Monday, December 17th, 2001
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7:04 pm - Google McYahoo
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Through the use of search engines, the following phrases have yielded hits to my website over the past few months:
Crispin Glover
plastic sex
inexpensive art
car wrap
devil baby art
daniel clowes pics
grant morrison
aaron lynch (whoever that is?)
funny cartoons animation david lynch
nyc backgrounds
t-shirts & sweatshirts NYC
funny illustrations nude
nude naked backstreet boys
...and today alone, I had the two best yet:
"britney spears nude ass breasts bush pictures"
"graphic sodomy"
It amazes me what writing random keywords into your HTML will do for your traffic.
current mood:  sick
current music: the holiday CD sampler that I'm making...
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| Sunday, December 16th, 2001
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3:25 pm - I am still wearing my Winner necklace.
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| Wednesday, December 12th, 2001
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3:15 am - All I want for Christmas is 35 cents a word per submission.
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(standing to face the room full of people)
Um, hi.
My name is Aaron.
And, well... jeez, this is hard.
I... am addicted to television's 24, the real-time Keifer Sutherland show.
It all started when I was watching those promos.
I hadn't been into a TV show since Twin Peaks, and hadn't even owned a television for years until September sorta necessitated one in our household.
(sits down and starts sobbing out of embarrassment)
However, I have missed the show two weeks in a row due to extracurricular events. I am currently in possession of a VCR (So, avphibes, when do you want this thing back?), but I never seem to remember (see also: go out of my way) to buy a blank tape. Therefore, I just get upset that I don't see the show, but don't do much about it. I guess that means I'm not really an addict. That's like being a smack addict jonesin' to shoot up, but too lazy to buy or steal the hypodermic needle to put the heroin in.
*WE INTERRUPT THIS LIVEJOURNAL ENTRY FOR A SPECIAL REPORT*
My roommate is an asshole.
*WE NOW RETURN TO THE LIVEJOURNAL ENTRY*
I'm longwinded, as many of you know, so if you want to know why I missed my television show this evening, which involves an emergency room and the Angelika movie theater...
( You know what to do, my special fwends. )
current mood: exhausted
current music: Fly (Nick Drake)
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| Monday, December 10th, 2001
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12:49 pm - If I see any more Santa pictures, I'll be seeing RED! Uh, wait a sec...
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11:03 am - Then he says to me, "I'm getting too old for this shit."
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Damned Clown: Hopefully I'll see you again before the world blows up.
Sikboy: Yes. Hopefully.
Damned Clown: This [MSNBC map of countries marked for their involvement in the war] is a little frightening here. Sooooo many countries involved.
Sikboy: Jesus... they just wanna bomb everyone?
Sikboy: Wow.
Damned Clown: Click on a country and it shows how they're involved.
Sikboy: Jesus... Mexico even...
Damned Clown: Because of this
Damned Clown: I am working harder to make my fortune
Damned Clown: so that I have enough money and resources to barter with
Damned Clown: when the world goes Mad Max.
Sikboy: Yeah... I'll get the car.
Damned Clown: I'll get the dog and the weird imbred helicopter guy.
Sikboy: Who gets Tina Turner?
Damned Clown: If we play our cards right, there will never be a Thunderdome and we won't need another hero.
Mel has one. Shouldn't you?
current mood: Australian
current music: but able to hide my accent well.
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| Sunday, December 9th, 2001
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10:56 pm - Ho Ho Hungover
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I'm in my longjohns and fuzzy pink slippers that apparently suck because they're open-toed, so it was said.
Today has been a day of recovery and relaxation after the madness that was Santacon yesterday.
My voice is shot.
So is the rest of me.
And although I have so many adventures to share from the In-Santa-Ty, direct your attention to this 32-picture slideshow I made on my website today:
SANTACON NYC 2001
As a teaser, here's a triad of snapshots featuring some of the LJ crew.
Clockwise, from left: ramala, look, devilette and brooklyngirl
Ramala and Look and Booze, Booze, Booze
Brooklyngirl, with her tomato so bright.
current mood: exhausted
current music: Not now, I have a headache.
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| Saturday, December 8th, 2001
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12:45 am - My post is under 100K, I swear on my reindeer's hoof.
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Santacon NYC 2001 starts at 11am!
I have tagged up my Santa suit with blue spray paint (tags include "Rude Dolf" and "Elf Side"). For those who don't know about it, this website offers up some info on Santacon.
The short version: Once a year since 1991, people come from all over the country to dress up like Santa for no real reason other than their own amusement, and participate in a boozy, innuendo-fueled prankster-ish good time with a few dozen of their Santa friends. You must dress as Santa. You must be Santa. Yeeha.
Of course, Santa must have toys to give the people, right?
I'm not finished making all my nice toys (for kids) and naughty toys (for adults), but I wanted to take a break and document the first of my creations, for posterity:
Poor birdy's gonna sue. Whiplash Sam! NICE TOY.
On the left: He has the head and torso of Backstreet Boy Kevin, the waist and legs of Hercules, and he's humping Daisy Duck! Disneyporno! NAUGHTY TOY.
On the right: That little white car swings from tree to tree, protecting the jungle from pedestrians and road hazards.The Car-zan Play Set! NICE TOY.
 
It's not just an ordinary cryogenic chamber! With the push of a button, the waist and legs of Backstreet Boy Kevin and the head and torso of Hercules spring into standing action! Cryogenial Warrior! NICE TOY.
More to follow, but only the kids who open presents on Santacon Saturday will know for sure what they are. Hopefully I'll be seeing brooklyngirl and pavlovsgirl and duckydoo and avphibes and satanvision and ramala and labrujah and many more at the Secret Santa meeting place later this morning.
Yo ho ho ho, a Santa's life for me.
current mood:  excited
current music: as if I'm the one opening presents tomorrow.
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| Thursday, December 6th, 2001
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5:07 pm - You'll never take me alive, copper.
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At work today, a police officer taught me how to hold a switchblade properly if I were to get in a knifefight. All I could think about is how ironic sikboy might think it was, but well, life is ironic. And irony sucks. You do the math.
Today, I am the banjo solo in a sad cowboy song.
I want sugary sweet things. I think I'm a girl.
current mood:  blah
current music: Christmas in Hollis (Run DMC)
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| Wednesday, December 5th, 2001
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6:33 pm - I try to stay in, but they keep pulling me back out.
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My old, well-connected (in that "family" way), hard-to-understand Sicilian landlord Ralphie just came by.
He didn't even look me in the eye when he held out his hand the moment I opened the door, but I had nothing to give him. I just deposited my checks this afternoon, so the soonest I'll be able to give him my half of the rent is Friday. I told him this, and he just said, "That's not my business, you have me very upset." This coming from a man who didn't even pick up any rent until we had lived here for almost three months. He's usually more lenient.
He then proceeded to tell me that Travis (my roommate) is the only one he ever wants to deal with, that he rented the apartment to him, I said I'm on the lease, he said no, he rented the place to Travis and he doesn't want to talk to me. I've lived here over 9 months and I don't think he knows my name yet. This means that I have no rental history when I move, which I had hoped not to do for quite some time since I can actually afford the rent here.
As if reading my mind, he concluded with "Once your lease is up, you're out of here." 2 months from now. Which I'm not sure if he means me, or Travis AND me, but either way, I'm feeling even more financially unstable than I was twenty minutes ago.
I'm gonna sell my soul.
current mood: distressed
current music: music, schmusic
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12:41 pm - Ahhh, look at all the lonely people.
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Each week in Time Out New York, the film section offers up opportunities to score free movie sneak preview tickets. It usually involves taking a full-page ad with you to some health club or specialty store (typically something that follows the theme of the movie i.e. a sex shop for the Ron Jeremy documentary), where the ad is traded in for a pass for two to an early screener -- of course, only about a gazillion New Yorkers read TONY, so to get one of the limited passes, you must wait in line on a weeknight for up to an hour or more ahead of time. On top of that, more tickets are given than there are seats, so on the day of the show, you have to wait another hour or longer if you expect to get in. Joy.
Now, there are different demographics of people who are willing to wait that long for the tix. There are the students and artists and struggling freelancers like myself who rely on cheap and free entertainment, the elderly folk who have plenty of time to wait and wait and wait for something fun that involves sitting, and then there are Them Vogue Bitches. With apologies to bluesiren, who may work at Conde Nasty but is definitely not one of TVB, these prissy little coquettes spend their waiting time being catty on Nokias the size of your fingernail (I even heard one make fun of the people around her, oblivious to her volume on the phone). Considering TVB wear outfits that cost more than what I make in a month, they seem a bit out of place inconveniencing themselves for tickets that they could easily afford. I find myself looking at them and wondering about all the people in line who will be turned away, and actually WOULD be set back by $20 for two tickets. Why are TVB there when they have plenty of money? The answer was made apparent to me by someone in the know: "[TVB] have to participate in free things so they can afford to get even more expensive clothing/handbags/$9 drinks at chi-chi uptown bars." I used to blame the MTA for all of my unsolvable New York problems. Anna Wintour is my new scapegoat for everything bad.
Although Tom Petty might disagree, the waiting is not the hardest part. Other than my minor gripe about Them Vogue Bitches, I find that these lines can be interesting bonding experiences. Most people, as they are getting a pass for two, are by themselves. THEY were the unlucky ones who lost that rock/paper/scissors match and were forced to wait on behalf of themselves and their movie-going partners. So, with an hour to kill and no books in hand, New Yorkers unite against their common enemy of boredom and start conversing.
Small-talk from Monday's line for The Business of Strangers
"Do you know anything about this movie?" (I read a little.)
"You know, Stockard Channing hasn't been in much lately." (I guess not. But she'll always be a Pink Lady to me.)
"It started raining in line for the Ocean's 11 tickets on Friday. Were you there?" (I was.)
I inherited a new movie acquaintance to shoot the proverbial shit with at these events. He's this 50+ year old man with a nervous Woody Allen tenor voice who I have named Benji, because I don't know his real name. On Monday, near 68th and Broadway, a long line had already formed on the street, and Benji was the last person in line before it broke off and went around the corner. Because of his location in line, his above-average height and his friendly-looking disposition, complete with ragged baseball cap, Benji served as Answer Lad to the public's constant "What's this line for?" As his answers got shorter and shorter, to the point where he would just say "Movie tickets," I came up with something better for him to say.
"The next time someone asks, look them straight in the eye and say, 'Guiliani is wrestling a 20 foot robot for charity at Madison Square Garden.' Let's see how they react."
I have to admit, the kid was a natural with a killer deadpan delivery. Four people within 15 minutes walked away with either a "Wow, really?" or "Huh." None of them even batted an eye or challenged his answer.
That's the thing about New York. Not much shocks people anymore.
They've seen it all.
Viva la sensory overload de NYC.
SEX
current mood: nerdy
current music: Pancho and Lefty (Willie Nelson)
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| Tuesday, December 4th, 2001
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4:45 pm - Online chatting on the clock, just before humping it silly.
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nursebile: its ok if you're late- i have things to amuse me here.
Damned Clown: You won't know if I'm late if you're still there.
Damned Clown: But chances are, I'll be early. I doubt it will take that long to get there.
nursebile: i meant if you wanna do 6:30.
Damned Clown: Yeah, I wanna "do" it. I wanna fuck 6:30.
Damned Clown: We'll fuck anything, even time itself.
nursebile: i already fucked 3pm.
Damned Clown: Time fucker.
Damned Clown: I fisted noon.
nursebile: i blew 8am.
nursebile: and 7am licked my pussy. yea.
Damned Clown: I prematurely ejaculated all over 10:14am.
current mood:  horny
current music: for a nubile teenage 2 o'clock.
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| Monday, December 3rd, 2001
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2:48 am - Oliver Twisted Sister May I Have Another?
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hungry
bored
sleepy