October 25, 2013
We are having fun. Also I find it crazy fun that people actually come looking for me on the smoking patio behind Driskill Bar. Okay sure that is predictable but also, how cool is that?
Also here are some photos to cheer you up before you go all “don’t smoke” on my ass. Yay!
September 21, 2013
September 19, 2013
In a galaxy far far away [okay Austin but quit it I am trying to set a tone here] I moved to [yes] Austin and I and a bunch of friends went to the Austin film festival. [Okay two years ago stop it what about setting tone here was not clear?] And a bunch of us were roaming about after a festival movie looking for a place to land and decided that place was my place but we needed supplies so we hit Whole Foods for snacks and beverages and spent way too much money and brought our supplies back to my place to carry on the party and —
Someone tried to make guacamole.
One of the friends here on that fateful night was Kitty, and Kitty [who has known me a long time and also was my hostess on an occasion over an entire summer] had never actually seen me do anything more crafty preparing food than make coffee [which she taught me to do but that is not my fault, that coffee machine was crafty] or pull string cheese out of a refrigerator.
[Seriously, that's me making coffee below on Kitty's "coffee" machine, look at that machine? It has extra controls to go to Venus and also to re-establish the space time continuum if anyone is dumb enough to break it.]
So Kitty was utterly agog when I took the guacamole fixings away from a native Texan and said, That’s not guacamole, this is guacamole, and —
Which, grant you, is not cooking, but since the most food preparation Kitty had ever seen me complete was to pull string cheese out of a refrigerator, was like the second coming to Kitty. And also, the guacamole was good.
My friend Kitty is from Louisiana. Where everyone can cook and dance. I kid you not. Men. Women. Children. Small house pets? They all dance and cook. This is really cool if you like to dance. [I do.] Also Louisiana is the only place in the US of A where you will see eighteen year old men arguing over whose red beans and rice recipe is better, or see three year olds arm wrestling for their grandmother’s secret recipe for the perfect file spice combo.
When you come from a land where everyone can cook, like Kitty does, and can really cook, like Kitty can, if you have a female friend who cannot cook, you sort of get worried about her. She’s handicapped, and you do not know how she will find love, with this tragic handicap. And if you love her, and want her to find love and be happy, you really worry. Which Kitty does. So Kitty worried about me a lot because of this strange cooking handicap, and then —
Holy crap Max can make guacamole!
The guacamole discovery would appear in funny ways over the coming months [okay years, quit it]. Saint Patrick’s Day rolled around and Kitty planned a party. And, told me to be there three hours early to make guacamole. And, she got all the guacamole fixings!
It does not take three hours to make guacamole. But this was Kitty’s strategic way of showing off my guacamole making skills to the menfolk.
It didn’t work. I’m Scots. That’s right next to Ireland. I’m not showing up three hours early to make guacamole. I hit Sixth Street, drank way more than was healthy, and no guacamole got made.
Kitty was sad.
Flash forward —
There have been multiple guacamole incidents. You do not need all those details. We are moving forward. I met a man. He’s nice. I like him. Kitty likes him. I told him the guacamole chronicles. He thought they were funny. I think they are funny. But I said, Watch, Kitty will want to do the guacamole thing.
The next day, Kitty said, Make him your guacamole.
Score! I am a total sooth sayer here! YAY!
I tell him. He laughs. I laugh.
Here is the thing. He told me a secret.
He hates guacamole.
We are trying to figure out how to tell Kitty.
Still here? Bonus guacamole read yay! : :::gangrene and the avacado thumb of death:::
September 5, 2013
Twitter account? I’m twitter bombing John Stamos for my friend Rane’s birthday. You can help. Tweet this:
Dear @JohnStamos it would totally make your mad cap fan @PlainRane ‘s day if you tweeted happy birthday to her Friday.
It really will make her birthday.
[Yes, I am nefarious. But you already knew that, right?]
June 12, 2013
We end up visiting pretty late.
Also we start visiting late.
Tuesday is review night for me so it’s after midnight when I am even done reviewing and someone can stop by.
[Yo, pervos, do not get excited, this is a female friend, not a guy friend. And I am tragically more than straight. Ah, men, if only I could quit you. Anyway....]
It is 3 AM when I am walking her out.
My building has big open halls. Layers and lengths of open halls. And a courtyard. There’s a lot of room here. Going in different directions.
[People get lost in these halls if I do not walk them out. And in.]
I’m walking her out. Through all those halls.
We start talking yoga.
We accidentally spend the next half hour demonstrating bikram leg and hip locks and foot holds and stances.
We’re both wearing pajamas.
After, it occurs to me we were doing dancer pose in pajamas on hard open tiles and I stepped into tree pose and held it wearing Uggs.
That’s pretty bad ass.
May 30, 2013
So then a friend said put on lipstick and fluff your hair and do the Marilyn thing.
So of course I did.
This is not the first time we have done the Marilyn thing around here:
May 5, 2013
I forgot how funny this is, it is from Raincoaster, circa August 12, 2007:
max adams: the Pinkertons dossier
As promised, here is max‘s biography. Consider biographization to be a meme if you enjoy such things.
Warning: your mileage may vary. We assume no liability. No warranty implied. Before beginning this or any exercise plan, consult your physician. Not intended as a replacement for the advice of a competent professional.
Which, if I’d had access to, would probably have resulted in something a lot less interesting.
max adams: the Pinkertons dossier
Editor’s note: In relating the circumstances which have led to my confinement within this refuge for the demented, I am aware that my present position will create a natural doubt of the authenticity of my narrative. It is an unfortunate fact that the bulk of humanity is too limited in its mental vision to weigh with patience and intelligence those isolated phenomena, seen and felt only by a psychologically sensitive few, which lie outside its common experience. Men of broader intellect know that there is no sharp distinction betwixt the real and the unreal; that all things appear as they do only be virtue of the delicate individual physical and mental media through which we are made conscious of them; but the prosaic materialism of the majority condemns as madness the flashes of supersight which penetrate the common veil of obvious empiricism.
max adams is such a phenomenon.
In creating this dossier we have been in constant contact with our offices in St. Petersburg, Istanbul, Silverlake, Ponape, Zurich, Area 51, Abu Simbel, Great Zimbabwe, and of course, Head-Smashed-In-Buffalo-Jump. Although facts are few, and expensively won, we have been able to assemble the following biographical sketch.
max adams is the laboratory-created daughter of the frozen sperm of Errol Flynn and pioneering biologist Nicolette Tesla (granddaughter of the famous physicist) who, deprived by the relentless progress of Glasnost of a ready supply of involuntary subjects, was forced to experiment upon herself.
Succeeding beyond her wildest dreams, she gave birth to max, whom she named Erriol in an epidural trance, during which she recited the entirety of The Tempest, with different voices and everything, pausing only to berate the attending doula for her hopelessly provincial dress sense.
max was raised in Tesla‘s mountain fortress to the age of four, when she was taken away by agents of the state to undertake the gruelling process of being schooled for the Olympic ice dancing team.
During a particularly contentious international competition in Bakersfield, California, max defected to the West and since that time has denied all knowledge of the former European Ice Dancing Championship team of Erriol Tesla and Sergey Brin.
She currently lives a quiet life as a night custodian and DJ at Slim Jim’s Crematorium and Rib House hidden deep in the bowels of the the new CAA headquarters, while maintaining a small scientific consulting practice with an exclusive clientele including MIT’s jet propulsion laboratory, Chicago’s Slam Poetry Championship, and Burger King.
February 26, 2013
Okay we are going crazy with a new meme. It is not my fault! My friend Tina started it by posting a really cool image and I said, Wow that is cool, and she said, Oh, it’s this site, Photo Funia, and bam, we were off and meme-ing. Yay!
There is an old meme, the meme we opened the book with, it was fun and there were prizes, check it out :::here:::
Want to play? Make a meme and post it on the book’s Facebook page. Memes are not quite as fun as Going Banksy, memes do not involve adrenalin and mildly illegal activities, but it’s still hella fun go for it: :::HIT THE FACEBOOK PAGE TO POST A MEME:::