Boats Against the Current

thoughtsofaangrylittlelady:

rachel-menard:

Saw this guy just after we ate- people would walk up to him, hand over some change and spit out some words, and his fingers would begin to fly. I was too intimidated to ask him for a poem, but Sarah bought two, for $3 each- “Indecision” and “Age”. Indecision was for me, and read as follows:

“Perhaps she’ll love the green of Portland

Flowing off into the hills

Where again I learned to feel

Or maybe the crowded hive of New York

Buzzing into the seam of morning and night

Or the path not yet displayed

and I am lost in so many ways

Like Carolyn’s smile in Ireland

I can contemplate again and again

But knowing is just a thought back to when.

Lynn Gentry

lynngentryprose.com

Indecisive

985 Valencia

July 1, 2012”

Nice

Permalink (9,584 notes)Via: beatnikchik

thoughtsofaangrylittlelady:

rachel-menard:

Saw this guy just after we ate- people would walk up to him, hand over some change and spit out some words, and his fingers would begin to fly. I was too intimidated to ask him for a poem, but Sarah bought two, for $3 each- “Indecision” and “Age”. Indecision was for me, and read as follows:
“Perhaps she’ll love the green of Portland
Flowing off into the hills
Where again I learned to feel
Or maybe the crowded hive of New York
Buzzing into the seam of morning and night
Or the path not yet displayed
and I am lost in so many ways
Like Carolyn’s smile in Ireland
I can contemplate again and again
But knowing is just a thought back to when.
Lynn Gentry
lynngentryprose.com
Indecisive
985 Valencia
July 1, 2012”

Nice

vicemag:

GIRL NEWS - GIRLS’ GUIDE TO ETIQUETTE, OR, SHUT YOUR COCK-POCKET AND LISTEN TO ME YOU HEINOUS MINIATURE HELLMOUTH-DWELLING BEASTS PS I LOVE YOU

Did you ever get asked to leave your parents’ country club because you worn jean shorts there? Maybe. But did you wear jean shorts (jorts!) to your parents’ country club strategically, so that you would be passive-aggressively scolded by a manager and could then build a strong legal case to stay home and do Nintendos (yes) the next time you were supposed to go with your parents to their country club? I did.

That move is an inversion of good manners and etiquette—it amounts to the same thing, which is doing and saying what needs to be done and said to make the people around you and the situation you’re in nice and bubble-bath-y for everyone, which in my case meant not eating chicken in a dress in a room with several olds and a classical pianist—but gotten to backwards. Usually, for less advanced girlies, I’d advocate the value of being super-super-super conscious of what mood (Sensibility? Vibes?) you are imparting just by hanging out and doing your thing, so that you maintain control of yourself and what happens around you. Shirt-and-tie wearing shit-destroyer Trace Crutchfield summarizes this ethos with “You can’t wreck the party if they won’t let you in.” The coolest, most fun, most ridiculous humans are always the ones who know how to shake hands. (Firm grip, make eye contact, keep it short.)

This is like almost the 50^th edish of Girl News. (I didn’t count, but I think so.) I think we’re at a pretty advanced level now, agree? Except, boys should read and absorb this one the most because the crustiest hobo girl has nothing on your average suburban goon when it comes to, like, not forcing your own cummy, fecal-speckled ignorant existence into other people’s day.

GOOD SPOILED AND BAD SPOILED

Here is why I reject everything about, like, Girls being a dumb show because the people on it are spoiled and get money from their parents and have fake jobs: they are good spoiled. They are spoiled in a way that makes them anxious, that makes them want, that makes them consider (and consider and consider and consider) their own circumstances and status and futures. The right way to be spoiled is to know that you’re spoiled, to make your dad laugh when you are asking for a raise in your allowance, to pay for ice creams and cigarettes for your friends who are legit broke or legit poor, to exist with a hot little fireball inside you (my anxiety has anthropomorphized into a whole separate character, but I’m 31 and next-next-level) that serves to make you work hard and want all of that stuff on your own. That is good spoiled. That is Stella McCartney spoiled. (Paul McCartney—do you know who that is?—said that he gave his kids piles and piles of presents on birthdays and at Christmas but otherwise they didn’t get shit, which is obviously the way to do it.) Spoiled gone good, is the result.

Spoiled gone bad is an heiress who calls herself an “heiress” and is satisfied with that. Spoiled gone bad are those legions,legions of girls (I SEE YOU, fashion babies and inexplicable summer interns and charity foundresses) who don’t acknowledge that their money isn’t theirs, that assume that when it’s given to them they’ve earned it, that anything has happened to them that has anything to do with them. It’s totally fine and good to live off your parents if that is where you are in your life and that is what is happening and everyone is OK with it and it’s not a forever-thing, but don’t be like “I’m buying an apartment!” Not just saying “This was given to me” or “My dad bought it” is verra, verra opposed to Extreme Realness, which is a central tenant of Girl News. If you’re not going to abide, probably just hop into a sleeping bag and zip it up and suck your thumb for a couple hours until you can find a way to be comfy owning up to everything. Also what is the POINT of not?

GOOD GIRLS AND BAD GIRLS

Related: reject the narratives of the Good Girl and the Bad Girl because these are agendas. Not yours, not ours. Nobody is either and it’s not fair of you to assume that you are (you’re not) or anyone else is (they’re not). Girls are the most complicated machinery ever forged; contend with this fact in all of its fun-ness and grossie-ness (think: we are sooo, soooo pretty but also vaginally shit blood clots and children and post-jizz dicks, all wet and soft. If that doesn’t offer a useful analogy nothing else will). This is why it’s important for all of us to like put down our popsicles for a hot minute to work out what part of us is badddd and what of us is fairy-god-angel goooood: maybe you are a vicious mean girl cunt to your ex-boyfriend? To his friends? That’s totally fine but where is your balance? Did you fold your sister’s laundry today? Like, it’s easy to create a self-mythology of badness, rudeness, realness. But what about when you are having cotton-ball feelings and have nowhere to put them? It’s also easy to consider yourself a good person and neglect to remember the various ways in which you are cruel to your bestie. I’m saying, don’t. Know all of it.

A TIP

Here is how you know if you are using your manners: do you know the effect that your words and actions are having? Again, you don’t have to be nicey-nice-nice, but when you are acting like a fucking bitch you should definitely know you are.

SHOWER SEX

Cum on the face is not actually a big deal. The amount of attention paid to face cum is very “???” like when Balky is confused about something on Perfect Strangers. It’s summer now; that should be on a cable channel somewhere.

If you remain squeamy about this scenario, lead your fox-boy into the shower so that after you can just stand up and swoooooosh, clean. Seriously, cumming on faces is just nice. It’s like a couple of little kisses that are sort of wet and dry in a funny glue way. Calm down.

CONTINUE

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