I hope everyone is enjoying their summer. I am trapped in studio finishing up my Berlin and China projects, as well as 2 essays and what feels like a million journal / sketchbook entries. And then I have a whole 3-day weekend to prepare for a new semester. Holy shit, I am burning out quickly.

Anyway, the above images are little interludes in my sketchbook. The top one is kinda obvious, but I imagine it to be on the press passes that are given out for the Olympics. A little reminder / warning for journalists to write only nice things. The next two are images of remaining Nazi buildings in Berlin that have been redefined and reused, but how do you really ever take the Hitler association out of the picture. It’s kind of a tough question, if they are perfectly functioning buildings (and in the case of the stadium, quite beautiful) should they just be re-appropriated and reused? I’m sure that was an issue for the Germans after the war, and it is their question to answer. And the final image of the Fonz standing on Karl Marx Allee (the former Stalinallee), shows that the street, and all its socialist grandeur, was really just a television set. The East Germans wanted to impress the worlds TV viewers with their quick, glorious rebuilding of Berlin, but it was all a facade. The fact that it is a cardboard cutout of Henry Winkler as Arthur Fonzarelli is meant to reiterate the layers of “deception / confusion / fantasy / television” within the street.

Ricky Gervais from his early 80’s band Seona Dancing.

I heard two funny things on the radio today, both during Jonesy’s Jukebox.

1.  Steve Jones was talking about how it makes him uncomfortable when people hold hands and pray before dinner in public places.  He said they should keep it at home, and then his guest, Mr. E of The Eels said, “Separation of Church and Steak.”  Clever and quick.

2.  There was a Netflix ad, and I don’t remember much of the setup but it had something to do with asking someone questions, like a verbal quiz.  The second question was, “What’s the difference between an orangutan?”

That’s all.

I spend a decent amount of time cleansing all of the comment spam leftover from Movable Type. I hope to never read the phrase ‘pokemon hentai” ever again. On the plus side, I get to re-read some of my wonderfulest old posts and laugh and laugh. Oh, how I laugh. So here is an excerpt from a post from last summer when I was driving from TX to CA. The post is too long but this little exchange actually made me laugh out loud.

Anyway. The night before I assaulted the automated gas pump I stayed in another Microtel. My love affair with the Microtel Brand Motel Chain has kind of cooled. This one, though it didn’t smell like cum, didn’t have a pool (yet). I am doing science-y things to see if the cum smell/pool, no cum smell/no pool is in anyway related. So far I have had mixed results though I did make a chlorine baby by accident. But back to my Microtel experience.

This Microtel was in Bellmont, AZ just outside of Flagstaff. The first problem was that the cute, younger-than-she-looked (I’ll get to this later maybe) told me the price was:

“$59.99 with AAA,” she said.

“What? It was ten dollars less in Tucumcari, NM [I actually said enn emm to try to sound hip like the young people who speak acronymically]” I expressed, trying to gain some points by knowing where every Microtel in the country is.

“Yeah. This is Flagstaff,” she said matter of factly.

“Exactly,” I said while thinking the French word Touché in my head in German.

She stared at me quizzically.

I stared back at her super-attractively.

“OK. Is this near here?” I replied while pointing to a local travel guide with an obviously photoshopped/airbrushed waterfall.

“No. I don’t think that exists,” she retorted.

“I didn’t tort first, so yours doesn’t count,” I was about to say.

It was then that I noticed that this girl was kind of cute for someone from Arizona and I automagically went into try to get laid mode.

“So, is there like anywhere to go out and get a drink around here?”

“Yeah, there is a bar right across the freeway.”

“Oh. Is it fun?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not old enough to drink.”

“Oh. Umm. I’m gonna go look at that waffle iron while you finish checking me in.”

So. I went to my room and found out the pool was under constuction, no HBO, no Comedy Central and I had gained an hour so it was 5fucking30PM. So I decided to sit around and do what it is that you do in Arizona:

Wish that you were in California.