andy gillette

This is the first of what I intend to be a weekly feature.  The idea is to provide a distillation of the various random links, pictures, videos, etc. that make it onto my Tumblr blog over the course of a week.

So, here now, without any further ado, I present the week of 2/8/2009:

On Monday, my little brother ate himself stupid.  We chatted about it:

Joseph: against my better judgement, i went out with the boys last night for beer and chicken wings. so i went out, had a couple wings, a couple PBRs, and then proceeded to eat a massive french dip sandwich, a plate of fries, more beers, and some mozzarella sticks
i was SO HONGRY
and then
then
me: GROSS
Joseph: i know
but it was delicious
hold on
so we get home
and i go straight to my bedroom
and like
fall over
on the floor
like
me: hahahaha
Joseph: squirming
i was so bloated and confused

Read the whole sorry tale >>

Monday also saw a couple of posts about my 16th great grandfather, Thomas More.  His contributions to the world of modern thought are indisputable, and he coined the term ‘utopia.’  This is a heavy burden for me.  Read some here and also here.

I found this little gem on Tuesday:

And it snowed this week (in Tucson!). You can read the forecast here and I have proof that it really happened:

I stumbled across the eyeball clock on Wednesday:

And I read a great essay about ‘He’s Just Not That Into You’ on This Recording.

So, look, what I’m saying is there is no reason for anyone to see this movie ever. If you are going through a breakup and a well-meaning friend tries to make you, email me instead and I will burn you a copy of Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space so you and Justin Pierce can get through this bullshit together.

Beyond that, my week in Tumblr can pretty much be summed up by reading the Skittles vodka post from Thursday.

I’m currently working on ‘PARTYFOOD: A Novella’ in collaboration with lil brother.  What follows is an excerpt.  Suggestions, comments, opinions and money are all welcome.

PROLOGUE

“cud u tell teh diffrents?”

The vacancy in PARTYFOOD’s stare says he’s been daydreaming again. “wot r u TALKIN BOUT?”

“if u wud splode in S P A C E and u wud crush inna oshun … cud you FEEL teh diffrents tween em?”

“ur silly PIG. jus we cud FLOAT in dem.”

“u cant floats cuz u dont ‘gets it’ yet.” PIG’s face is a sagging caricature of depression.

“i dont get it.”

1.

The discarded remains of a week-long binge are piling up, threatening to overtake WALTAR’s lumpy, ancient beanbag chair. Someone in an adjacent apartment is blaring an old Bill Hicks’ record: “More Snickers! More Coke!!!” The phone has been ringing every twenty minutes or so for nearly three days, but WALTAR has been too drunk to bother finding it. As he shifts his weight to let out a slow, wheezing fart the ringing becomes noticeably louder. He reaches deep into the beanbag’s ass-shaped divot and comes up with the receiver.

“Heh-oh?” He hasn’t moved, let alone spoken to anyone in days and the words get stuck in his throat on their way out. “Hello?”

“WALTAR, its PARTYFOOD. haz u seen PIG?”

“What? What do you want, fag?”

“i cant find PIG. HAZ U SAW HIM?”

“oh, yeah. That little cum-rag is cowering in the corner right now. I had some friends over for a little piggy party, if you know what i …”

“SRSLY WALTAR!!!”

“Haven’t seen ‘em.” He hangs up and tosses the phone in the general direction of the toilet before taking a hefty slug of whiskey.

You can roughly estimate the length of one of these binges by the caliber of whiskey in WALTAR’s hand. He starts out running through the ranks of the Johnny Walker color wheel and ends up in realm of plastic jugs with completely forgettable names. The “Barret’s Special Blend” clutched between his swollen knees was a bad sign. The desperation would set in soon and send him, slobbering and grabbing and stinking, out into the world.

2.

But for the light pollution that suffuses much of the North American sky, an idle stargazer in southern California would almost be able to see, just above the horizon to the southwest, a small cadre of DOLPHINZ in the star-dappled sky.

Last night, I fell asleep with my shoes on.

I don’t remember falling asleep.  Last I recall, I was chatting with Molls because lil brother told me that she is friends with the other blogging Molly in real life.  I was trying to get this confirmed or denied when I apparently stumbled to the couch and passed out.

A Visual Aid:

Little brother and I just saw The Dark Knight at the Cineramadome.

I really expected that a lot of the hype about how amazing Heath Ledger was in the movie had more to do with the fact that he killed himself shortly after than any actual amazingness. I was pleasantly surprised. He was an awesome Joker and now I’m (admittedly selfishly) kind of sad that he won’t be around to make another Batman.

After the movie we went by the Mr. Brainwash gallery show because lil brother hadn’t seen it yet and I had to pick up my (fucking radical) Elvis with a machine gun print. Now I’m back home drinking champagne and contemplating the pool. Sometimes my life feels like a cartoon.