Sunday, April 22, 2007

Goodbye Smut and Eggs

Things that have changed in Madison since I moved away:

1. "Smut and Eggs," your opportunity to watch hardcore pornography over breakfast and hair of the dog, is gone.

2. The State Street Arcade, well loved porn store, sex shop, and gay pickup joint, has been forced out thanks to higher rents. The Art Box strikes again! It has been replaced by a soon-to-open restaurant. The owner of that establishment has too much moxie and not enough bleach to make me eat there.

3. Duane, my coffee guy from college now owns his own cafe/art space/performance location/conference space/hippie/biker/furry hangout, the Escape Java Joint.

4. The Paradise(my most fondly remembered old haunt) now has Led Zeppelin on the jukebox. And not even decent Led Zeppelin; it was Houses of the Holy. Also, some of the female patrons wore tube tops. Thankfully, the beer was still cheap and the fried food is still the best in Madison.

Saturday, April 21, 2007

The real motives for the abortion ban

My sister figured it out. Dick Cheney is basically the head of the skeksis, but rather than stealing the essence of podlings in order to maintain his shriveled, damned existence, he must drink the blood of unwanted babies. Soon he will have enough to return him to the power of his youth!

Friday, April 13, 2007


Nick Cave and I are spending some quality time together this morning. I wish he weren't twice my age; I think he's my soulmate.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007


On Friday night I went to a sleepover. There were sweatpants, there was nail polish, and we drank wine with straws. It was the first time in 15 years I've been in a room with that many women my own age. It was pretty magical, or maybe I am just a spectactularly bitter human for not letting go of all that grade-skipping angst sooner. Either way, thank you ladies.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Out of Place

Despite my best efforts, I am not a very neat person. I don't put things away all the time, I am comfortable going to be without hanging up my coat, and a host's home would need a lot of disorder to attract my scorn. This is not Ethan's family philosophy.

Last night, I used one of the hand towels in one of the bathrooms, and when I was done, I placed it back on the towel rack folded neatly in half. When I used the same towel this morning, I found it refolded, in thirds, hanging next to its identical twin.

I do not fit in here.