Thursday, April 28, 2005

the long desert drive
by iggy

ok, i got good news and bad news. the bad news is you wont be hearing from me for a few days.

yesterday i get this call from leo.

him: "guess what?!"
me: "what?"
him: "my uncle died!!"
me: "oh, leo, man that's terrible, was it..."
him: "...he left me his car!"

leo's got a car, but it sucks. it's been making these strange sounds for months and at first he would always be pulling over and trying to find where the sound was coming from. he gave up though and now has been just driving the thing into the ground.

turns out, though, that both the dead uncle and the car are in santa fe and randy wants me to go out there with him cause he'll have two cars and needs someone to drive back in the other one. he says he'll cover motel and food, so i tell him yes.

then last night elliot was in the neighborhood and stopped by my place. i told him about what we were going to do and he freaked out "iggy, this new girl i'm seeing LOVES that indian jewelry stuff, that turquoise and tin shit. i gotta come with you and buy her some of that stuff. she'd lose it if i went all the way to santa fe to get her it."

so i tried to explain to elliot that leo sometimes gets annoyed by his political speeches and that it was leo's car and all (we're taking his parents honda), so elliot promised to cut it down ("i wont say anything that could be called a manifesto if i wrote it down"). i called leo and he didn't want elliot coming, but elliot told us "guys, she would really go nuts. seriously. i mean, she'll probably let me put it in her butt after this. no joke."

leo and i had to respect this, so we said he could come as long as he shut the fuck up. also, when i was on that call leo told me that cleo had weaseled her way into this thing by crying a lot and claiming that she wanted to leave flowers at uncle sal's grave.

so now i am writing this entry from leo's house as we are packing up the car to leave for our road trip in the morning. we've got a big pile of shit in the garage of stuff thats coming with us. in the pile so far are my box of snickers bars (48 count, woot!), elliot's packages and packages of "stonewall jackson's veggie jerquee", cleo's cigarettes, my copies of the last six issues of wired magazine, everybodys ipods, cleo's tampons, leo's red bull and a big bin of red vines that leo's dad donated and no one seems to want.

maybe we'll drop it off at randy's place before we go.

but anyway, we leave in the morning and should be back in five or six days. if there's a mutiny in the comments section while i am away and it devolves into shouting and namecalling, there's going to be hell to pay when i get back.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

space sex and the flux capacitor
by iggy

today a bunch of us went to the mall. me, randy, leo and cleo actually. leo was driving, which was why we got stuck with cleo. the day was nice so we decided to take the side-streets instead of the freeway. me and randy were in the back.

randy took of his sweater at one point and his t-shirt got all hiked up so i could see his scar from chest surgery. randy was born with this really pointy rib cage so when he was in high school they opened him up and reshaped it. the scar runs straight down between his nipples, and the off to each side, like an upside-down y. we call it the "flux capacitor", cause it looks like the device in the armrest of the car from "back to the future".

me: hey, you guys remember how the car in 'back to the future' ran on garbage in the second movie?
randy: of course. what about it?
me: well i was wondering... that thing turns anything you put into it into energy for the car?
randy: yeah, so what?
me: well how does it keep from eating itself, you know? like how does it know that my coke can is supposed to be burnt up, but the walls of the machine aren't?
randy: ...?

things got weirder from there, cause randy started talking about antimatter drives and how he learned all his physics from "star trek".

leo: if they asked you to go to mars, but it was for three years and a 90% survival rate, would you go?
randy: yeah. no doubt. i'd go.
leo: but what if you had to go alone?
randy: i'd still do it. i mean, i have the internet and the telephone and all, right?
leo: well, yeah, but the delay to earth is like 8 minutes. so you'd better have fucking tabbed browsing.
me: well your telephone would have that huge delay, so you'd just only leave messages, right?
randy: yeah. but that would still work.
me: oh shit, i'd always be getting these messages from you 'hi, its me again... just calling to see what's up. i just watched the usual suspects again and i love that movie, anyway, hope all is well on earth. and california in particular.'



leo: oh fuck, but just imagine a 20 year mission to pluto
me: no way i'd do that.
leo: what if they froze you for the trip?
me: well...
leo: and what if they said they would freeze anyone else you wanted for 20 years.
me: well shit, then i'd have my whole family frozen. maybe friends too, if they would. damn, i'd feel bad if the world they woke up in was worse that this one. it would be like, "hi, pluto was great. anyway, just hold on to this rifle, cause the rebel-mutants are almost here. haha, i'll explain later."
randy: i'd do it for sure. but actually, i'd prefer to be frozen for fifty if possible.



cleo: but if you were married, you'd take your wife, right?
me: well, i'd try but what if they wouldnt let her?
cleo: well you have to take SOME woman. it will be 20 years.
me: well, i'll only be awake for three of those.
cleo: shit, three years, iggy?

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

project diabetes
by iggy

ok, so i know i said a while ago that i would never go to that albertsons again.

but some time ago randy and i ended up there looking for the cheerios boxes with the star wars action figures in them. randy has been pissed ever since all the toys that went out in those cereal boxes when he was like 5 skyrocketed in value ("if i had known my lando calrissian would one day be worth $80 mint, i never would have strapped him to that model rocket 'D' engine for those jetpack tests"). anyway, when i was there it seemed that some of the employees that i have issues with were gone.

so yesterday he and i were back there again. this time though, randy was just going for pie. well, pie and candy, but the candy was an impulse buy. you know how when you were a kid you couldn't get enough candy? you probably used to think "shit, when i get older and i have money i am going to spend it ALL on candy". but then when you actually got older, you didnt really like eating tons of candy and you had better things to spend your money on (LIKE MAC OS X TIGER FRIDAY WOOT). well, randy had that first part about the candy, but then never grew out of it. seriously, as long as randy has enough cash to buy candy and pies and shit, he'll be happy.

so we were in the albersons pies section trying to decide between "key lime" and "dutch apple" (me: "i've never had dutch food...") when that fucker farsad comes over and gives us shit cause randy keeps opening the boxes to smell the pies:

farsad: "if you open it you buy it!"
randy: "what if i open it and it smells rotten?"
farsad: "our pies are not rotten!"
randy: "the last one i got was!"

this, was untrue, but shut farsad up for awhile. turns out randy just likes to smell the things. he says most of taste is smell anyway, so why not taste them all for free? and someone had shown up for ice cream so farsad ran off to help him.

i left randy in the pie section about this time because i needed more supplies for huevos rancheros (gods gift to guys who cant cook: eggs, tortillas, beans, salsa). when i came back with my arms full of rosarito brand beans cans, randy was moving stickers around ("if i combine the day-old sticker with the rhubarb sticker, which is the cheapest pie, we can get out of here for under two dollars"). turns out randy was out of money and was trying to save some cash cause he's been spending lots of money buying "world of warcraft" items on ebay.

so i told randy i'd buy him the pie. we ended up getting a key lime pie for $1.88 plus tax. he is one step closer to diabetes now.

I wish there was some nice ending to this story, but that was it. we got the pie and he ate it. they cant all be good posts, now can they?

Sunday, April 24, 2005

matthew is a rapist
by cleo

So. today someone tried to start some shit. This morning I woke up to find this email in my GMail inbox:

To: Cleopatra Robinson
From: Matthew Wasserman

Hey Cleo,

How's your weekend so far? Only been a few hours so far I guess! LOL.... I was thinking that if you dont have plans tonight we could go see Kings Ransom tonight at the promenade. I think you are very pretty.

Matthew.

p.s. Did my answers help in that test on wednesday? I hope no one finds out about you cheating. That would be really suck.

First of all, i should have never given that little shit my email address. He told me that he was going to email me a link to the j-lo "unbearded clam" photos but then he just sent me a link to some blog entry of his that he thought was funny. I tell you, courtship among dorks is not very efficient. If matthew just asked me up front "will you let me stick my loveknob in your cha cha?" I'd just say "no" and we'd save ourselves all this trouble.

But this email was pretty clear, and I don't think i have to spell it out for you all. Even if iggys readers are twice as dumb as iggy, the message was clear. "IF YOU DON'T FUCK ME I WILL TURN YOU IN FOR CHEATING."

Now this is blackmail. Which, really, sortof is rape. I mean, forced sex? Is there any other word for it? I didn't think so (maybe "marriage" but I don't want to go there right now). So I really didn't feel bad about how dealt with this rapist.

I sent this email back:

To: Matthew Wasserman
From: Cleopatra Robinson

Matt, tonight is my mom's birthday. So no, I can't. But I can meet up this afternoon if you're free. Cum by my place @ 2???

;)

xoxo,
Cleopatra.


Of course my mom's birthday wasn't tonight, but he didn't know that. Matthew had a car and he came by at two, just as expected. I hopped in his car and really everything went to plan. He had acne in all the places I expected, and even one i didn't (shudder). We drove to that parking lot by the lake that is real secluded and no one ever goes to cause all the ducks died from the hunta virus or something.

It took almost no work to get him in the backseat with his shirt off. Getting his pants off took a bit, but when I showed him my pierced tongue, they slipped off real quick. The only hard part was avoiding his hideous kisses ("save the love for your soul mate, Matthew" worked)

Before Matthew realized what I was doing, I got my cell out ("oh shit, mom's calling, holdon") and I use the cam to take a pic of his little mathematician (with its purple manifold).

"Look, matty, I just emailed myself a photo of your wiener. If you turn me in for cheating this will get emailed to half the school."
"BUT I TRUSTED YOU"

Apparently some ladies actually read iggy's blog, so here's another tip for them: It's a fucking jungle out there. Read "The Prince" and remember that these animals only respect force.

Saturday, April 23, 2005

homeless people + digital cameras = frustration!!
by iggy

thursday night me and randy and leo were in my basement. last year randy bought me "cabin boy" as a birthday present and we had thrown it in the dvd player to watch while we painted a new set of miniatures (goblins, mostly). i hate "cabin boy" and randy knew it, but i think thats why he bought it for me.

about ten years ago randy and i spent new years eve watching "cabin boy" and "the lawnmower man" and playing risk (FUCK! i forgot to blog about risk!! i will soon!!!). when you are 14, new years eve isn't about hooking up or doing coke or anything like that as much as its about staying up all night and not sleeping the next day. so, we turned on "cabin boy" at 4-ish and no one laughed at anything until the scene with the cupcake that spits tobacco juice. at that point, all the pent up laughter from the last hour of silence came out and I still dont know if we were laughing at the movie or with it, but we cried laughing. soon after that, we turned it off and decided it was the worst movie ever.

so why would randy buy me the dvd of a movie that he knows i hate? i think it had to do with what i got him last year for his birthday:

him: "space 1999...?"
me: "yeah, it's a dvd of every episode of the classic sci-fi series."
him: "i never heard of it."
me: "yeah me neither, but it looks pretty funny. look on the box, the effects are terrible."
him: "uhhh....yeah, thanks."
me: "well it was either that or the 'once upon a time in china' box set."
him: "YOU PASSED UP JET LI MASTERY FOR THIS?!?"


randy didn't really find the gift it all that funny

i guess randy figured the best revenge was to get me something he knew i'd hate. and that was "cabin boy".

so we were watching "cabin boy" and in that scene in the village with the toothless homeless people, leo starts complaining about poor people and how they are lazy and stuff. i sometimes argue with him about that, but i really didn't want to that night. one thing we could agree on was that it would be funny to have a competition about who could get the best photo of a homeless person.

since my crx is still broken, the teams were me and randy versus leo. we left my place and agreed on a time limit of one hour. whoever lost was going to have to buy tickets to the new "hitchhikers guide to the galaxy" movie for the winners.

randy and me set out for the strip mall next to the freeway cause for some reason the bums are always down near the freeway. i dont know if its the bus access or what, but that's where you can always find them. so it took awhile driving around, but finally we found this total nut at the payphone in front of the kmart:


"girl, i am tired of this argument, you can keep that fucking cat, just give me my damn demo tapes!"

i don't know if he was in the music business or what, but this guy at the payphone kept harassing some woman about his tapes. something about "musical geniosity" and how he needs the demo tapes because he "can't pay that damn child support until he signs with a label".

randy and i thought that that photo was maybe not allowed, because even though the guy seemed pretty seedy (he'd fit in well on the jerry springer show) we couldn't be sure he was actually homeless.

but when we got back, all leo had was this turd:


the blue thing on the left is apparently part of a vagrant

leo had been driving around for a long time and was really excited when he found a guy at a freeway exit with a "why lie? i want a beer" sign. but when he drove by and took the photo he fucked it up and only got a little bit of the bum in the shot. by the time he realized his mistake, the hour was up and he couldnt go back.

so me and randy were pretty sure we had won this thing, but today I get this email from leo saying how because he had half the people he gets another hour to complete it today and how he took this badass shot of a vagrant in a park with a film crew behind him. "very los angeles" he says.


leo's questionable photo

so what do you all think? who won this competition and who should pay for the tickets?

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

fuck math
by cleo


So. I had a big test this morning at school. Some fucking math shit. I hate math. Like, when am I ever going to use it in the future? Never. that's the answer. NEVER! And I think that it's so dumb that i have to take math classes even if i don't want to. Anyway, I couldn't find my calculator last night but luckily, iggy was on AIM.

Cleopatra Robinson: iggy.
Cleopatra Robinson: you're smart, right?
Igor Corvetta: very
Cleopatra Robinson: can i borrow you're calculater?
Igor Corvetta: i don't know what that is.
Igor Corvetta: i know what a calculatOr is
Igor Corvetta: though
Cleopatra Robinson: fuck
Igor Corvetta: do you want to borrow that?
Cleopatra Robinson: why do you have to be like that?
Cleopatra Robinson: seriously, igor?
Cleopatra Robinson: of all people
Cleopatra Robinson: i would have thought that you
Cleopatra Robinson: wouldd support me in terms of school
Igor Corvetta: yeah
Igor Corvetta: okay
Igor Corvetta: hey, why don't you borow leo's?
Cleopatra Robinson: because he sucks
Igor Corvetta: ummmmm
Igor Corvetta: okay
Igor Corvetta: bike over and i'll give it to you
Cleopatra Robinson: k

I call iggy 'igor' when I'm pissed at him. Anyway, I bet when iggy said he'd 'give it to me' he was trying to imply, you know, something else - something that a perv would say. But I really needed a calculator. there's just no doing trig without one, you know?

So I biked over. It's not so much about what happened last night, but about what happened this morning...

My test was at 8am. It's already annoying that my school starts a whole hour earlier than all the other schools in the city - but they decide to make us write tests that early too? Fuck i hate school. Anyway, it was around 6:30am (i woke up really early for some last-minute studying) and I realized that when I dropped my purse when I biked home I must have dropped iggy's calculator. FUCK. What was I going to do??! The only thing that I could do. Bike around and go from store to store to try and find a replacement. Luckily, iggy gave me a shitty caculator because he thought that I would prolly mess it up or soemthing. which I did. ha ha. well, I went to 7 - yes 7 - different stores and nowhere did they have a fucking calculator. I'm hating on math big time at this point.

It was nearing 8am and still no calculator. I decided to say 'fuck it' and just try doing the test without one. I'll just sit beside this really dorky guy named Matt who has this super crush on me, I thought. So i did. And it was fine. And I'll prolly get an A at best and a B+ at worst. I'm not too worried.

Now all I have to do is tell iggy that I lost his stupid fucking calculator. I guess he'll read this when he wakes up though. heh heh. I don't care though. I know he has a crush on me just like matt does. man, why do all the nerds like me?? I want one of those tall dark handsome guys. Like Johnny Depp or Colin Farrell. But my age. Well, a bit older than me but not that old. I'm totally skipping second period right now to write for iggy's blog and to look at hot guys on the internet. It's sooooo good for stuff like this and for wasting time. Thank the nerds for that much, anyway.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

support your local musician cause he cant support himself
by iggy

ok, my blog has looked like the lifetime channel far too much lately. thanks cleo.

so i got this call from elliot tonight. he was frantic. apparently after the success of his last meetup experience, elliot went all nuts on the meeup.com website and started all these groups ("post-humanist thinkers", "anarchafeminism", "the peoples transit club"). but the group that was meeting last night that he really needed help with was "minstrelsy".

elliot hates the riaa. that is, the "recording industry artists of america". they are the ones that killed napster and aimster (and all the other -sters) and are the ones that charge twenty dollars for a cd that costs pennies to make. elliot says its not enough to kill the riaa, cause another thing will just come and replace them. elliot says that what really fucked music was recording it in the first place and wasn't it nice when it was just people with flutes and singing? elliot wants to bring back the barbershop quartet and the traveling minstrel.

so he started his "minstrelsy" meetup, cause he wanted to meet other people who thought live music was the only right way to do music. i think he kinda saw this meetup as the beginnings of a local music group that would walk around town and play such magical music that people would turn off their stereos and burn their cds.


"the french have two words for free and we have only one. wtf??"

he told me that he hadnt got nearly the interest that he had expected. he said nine out of ten emails he got about the group were from angry black people confused about the group's name. there was one guy "eddie" who was definitely in the group and was going to come to the meetup, but it turns out last night was also the "fantastic falconry" meetup and eddie chose falconry over minstrelsy (elliot: "falconry?? what the fuck is this, the middle ages?").

unfortunately, though, elliot had planned a really big start to the minstrelsy group and got a permit to march around at dusk playing their instruments. "I paid 25 fucking dollars to these fascist bureaucrats for a permit and i'm gonna use it!". so when eddie couldn't make it, elliot called me.

elliot: "look, iggy. i've heard you do kareoke before and i've seen you try to dance. i know you have no rhythm and no melody. but i still need you out here with me in my minstrel march."
me: "elliot, i can't play any instruments."
elliot: "tonight you'll play the tamborine. iggy, i need you."


i said yes. i dont know why. maybe i felt i owed him.


not all the all the neighbors were supporting their local musician.

we got started a lot later than we were supposed to. the permit was for 6:00, but we didn't really get out there until sometime in the eights and not the early ones. it took us awhile because we had to be drunker than we originally thought in order to march around the neighborhood with a concertina ("it's not an accordion!") and a tamborine. and elliot wouldn't leave the house until he had learned all of that song "imagine".

we marched. we got harassed some, but not that much. no one burned any cds, other than elliot. but i think next time i'm going to falconry instead.

Monday, April 18, 2005

10pm tuesday
by cleo


igor dont dress this place up much,
so i thought i might.
add a lady's touch and all... you know,
flowers and curtains and things
a guy would never think of,
only in words cause its a blog...

duh...

jenny has her license.
but her dad's in construction
(the kind where you sweat)
and her mom does acupuncture ...part time...
so she drives a shitty car, this old toyota camry,
the sort made when sharp angles were still hip.

we started this thing, driving this way,
that the kids all do now.
we drive around with the windows down
and the heater and the stereo up as far as they'll go.
the stereo's cause i hate small talk.
the heater's cause the radiator dont work right.

jenny's little brother is sammy
and sammy's always bored at home.
he thinks we drive off to do fun stuff,
but we're just bored all over town.
sometimes we bring sammy along,
just to change it up some.



sometimes we tell sammy
we'll leave him someplace bad unless
he drinks the water from the earthquake kit
and fills up the bottles with yellow ammo
cause sometimes those cheerleader bitches
need pee poured on their s.u.v.'s.

and sammy knows the radio stations.
so when we're stuck at red lights
next to the defensive line, he listens.
you should hear them freak-
my ipod has a radio adaptor
and "the barbie song".

then when it gets late and not fun,
i close my eyes and press fast forward.
i'm in a jet, twice as old, impossibly rich.
i've just left prague for bucharest.
but its boring even when I dream it.
at least the seats are leather, tho...

Sunday, April 17, 2005

the great game
by cleo


I'm a lucky bitch? nononono igor...

"Cleo, just do what I say and we can win this thing."
"iggy, you little shit. I'm not gonna attack you, but I am not going to be your bitch either."
"Cleo, the Brians are going to eat you alive without my help."
"Look, lets have a secret pact. i'll fight you a bit in the Agean so no one knows, but we have a peace pact, okay?"


"Hey Brian."
"Hey Cleo, look I know you are new at this and all, but I need you to be cool in the south while I go after bryan."
"oh, i'll be cool in your south, brian..." <wink>
"uh..."
"But if I were you, I'd be more afraid of Randy in Germany."
"Cleo, you don't know what you're talking about."
"I know I'm new at this, but I also know randy is real good. He's played this thing a million times and I always hear him over here talking strategy with Leo."
"Yeah, like what sort of stuff?"
"All sorts of crazy advanced shit I dont understand. 'maginot', 'luftwaffe', 'guernica'... I don't know what it means, but he's way pro at this."
"Hmm... Let me talk to Bryan about this."
"Ok, but don't tell Bryan we are tight. Make with Bryan like you and he are going to eat me after Randy, okay?"


"Bryan, every time I talk to Brian, he's trying to get me to attack you."
"What?!?"
"Yeah, and he's been making fun of the way you spell your name. He keeps calling you 'y'- things like 'y-wipe' and 'y-b-straight'."
"grrrrr...."
"Hey lets work together against him, I'll take the Black Sea..."


"CLEO!! You weren't supposed to take NAPLES!! The fighting was just for show, REMEMBER!!"
"iggy. We have to make this convincing, or else the Brians will realize we're teamed up against them."
"!!?!??!?"
"You're cute when you are all pissed like this."


"Bryan, I think its time we go after iggy."
"Yeah, but his stuff near Venice will make that hard."
"Hmm... let me see what I can do about moving those. But the deal is I get the southern capitols, ok?"


Bryan says "CLEO YOU BACKSTABBING CUNT"
iggy says "HAHA! that's what you get for betraying me, Bryan. Oh, and Cleo? Which is sexier, 'you turned my floppy drive into a hard drive' or 'I'm penetration testing your dirty bits' "


"Well we're still on to see 'sin city' on sunday, right Cleo? Lemme get your number."
"Ya, ya, for sure, Bryan. But how about I call you instead?"

Saturday, April 16, 2005

the great game
by iggy

it's 4am and i am cooking chicken on the barbeque. why does it feel weird to use the bbq in the middle of the night? using the stove at night is normal. somehow the bbq isnt...

but maybe its not the bbq that is making me feel weird right now and its the game i just finished. tonight was the second friday of the month so we all met up to play "diplomacy" at leo's house. randy had invited some of those SCA guys to game night again, so we were going to do game night at his house at first, cause neither leo or i want valuable shit breaking during some wooden-sword-fight. about an hour before we were supposed to play, thought, randy said we couldn't play at his house cause the only way he got out of mowing the lawn was by making up "I have a final exam on monday" and he lied to his mom about studying tonight.


leo (england) and brian (russia) would have made natural allies, but leo refused cause he "doesn't trust commies".

so leo volunteered his place. this turned out to be a good thing cause there were only six of us and we were going to have to play without italy, but cleo was at home and said she wanted play and was pretty confident about winning ("just cause you're dorks doesnt mean you're smart"). so we had seven players: me, leo, randy, cleo, alan and brian and some new guy also named bryan but spelled with a 'y' (he must have made that point at least four times, and i think was responsible for a war in the balkans at one point).

so we all drew from a hat and I got italy. leo got england, alan got france, randy got germany, bryan got austria-hungary, brian got russia and cleo got turkey.

near the beginning, me and bryan were allies cause alan was being a prick by building all these ships in marseilles and naming them "delenda est igor" I, II, and III, which I never really understood but it was clear it was bad. also something those guys never knew was that i had nothing to fear from turkey cause me and cleo had a secret pact.

so i attacked france (alan) for awhile, while the two brians fought in the east. france was working with germany against me and leo in england so things were pretty even for awhile. cleo was kind of sitting by herself and not gaining much ground, so i sortof felt bad for her.


cleo stalled at first

but once bryan had beaten brian, the fucker turned on me! we had a peace pact on our austria-italy border and he broke it. now, i'll admit i freaked out probably more than i should have. i think i may even have told him at one point that i hoped his mother dies of the cancer she has been fighting. i might have gone too far with that one.

but i don't feel bad about not buying him a burger. after bryan laid into me, i was crushed between him and france. after that there wasn't anything for me to do, so i went out and got a burger. it felt good to say "no" when bryan asked me to bring him back one.


the burger i ate didnt taste nearly as good as the one i denied bryan.

so after that i mostly just harassed people on "world of warcraft" using randy's laptop. at one point i got this girl from singapore to sit next to me on a bench for ten minutes cause i promised her that if she waited long enough she would see the northern lights in the sky (which dont exist in the game). i tried to cyber with her, but she wasn't into it.



i'd name cleo's ship the "s.s. lucky bitch"


oh, and somehow cleo won. she sortof just sat there for most of it and then surprised people at the end.

the bitch got REALLY lucky.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

the bull-trike
by iggy

i had the most amazing afternoon. my uncle george called me up and said "iggy, you dont get out enough. come with me to cold springs tavern on my trike."

the trike is an impressive machine. it has only three wheels and is really light, but it has this enormous 400 horsepower engine on it. i'd be more specific if i could, but i really dont know that much about cars. i do know that the thing is totally badass, though.


the trike is totally badass.

the trike has two seats. all you have to do on the back is strap in and yell. you dont have to lean or anything, so its fun. i did plenty of yelling this afternoon. probably too much though, cause george kept calling me "ms. corvetta".



I think this is a large engine. it looks large to me anyway.

so george picked me up about noon and we headed up to the mountains way north of Los Angeles. way up in the hills is this "tavern" that has stayed the same since like 100 years ago. thats where we had lunch and ran into a bunch of other biker people.



all my photos are from the way there, cause i fell asleep on the way back.

when we got there, there were like 100 biker folks. they seemed pretty normal and not like i had hoped they'd be. i was expecting far more leather and creative facial hair than i actually got.

one nice thing about riding on the trike is that you turn heads wherever you go. it felt like we were celebrities when we drove up because everyone was looking at us.


the trike gets a lot of attention.

we had our lunch and i got my usual lecture from my uncle george about how i am "pissing my life away" and how i should come to work for him. i told him that i was happy doing what i am doing, and no thanks, but he didnt want to hear that. he started yelling at me in the tavern about how i will "regret wasting my youth" and how i should stop "hanging out with losers and rejects".

he was paying for lunch, so i had to listen to his crap. but when it was all done i told him i wasn't going to change and that i had lied to him before and i had really voted for john kerry. we didn't talk much after that, but that was okay because i slept most of the way home.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

fuck igor corvetta
by cleo

To: Cleopatra Robinson
From: Igor Corvetta
Subject: stop being such a cunt

cleo, when i bought you that carton of smokes the deal was you'd post. i dont care if your dad found them. a deal is a deal. i hate to be like this but if you dont post something soon i am going to tell leo about the time you ---------------------------------------.

i mean it.

-iggy

p.s. dont forget about posting hot pix.


OK, I am posting. are you happy now asshole? I hate you, iggy. and I am drunk. and being drunk doesnt make me hate you, it makes me hate you more.

The worst part is I cant make this post completely shitty. What I'd really like to do here is to draw out the tubgirl.com photo here (don't pretend you haven't already seen it, you perverts) using letters and keyboard symbols so you would all know how much I care about this post and iggy's blog readers. But I know that one day I am going to make it big and there is going to be some episode of "Behind the Music" (or even some as-yet-uninvented show "Early Years of Third World Dictators", god that would be good tv) about me and for sure they are going to dig this shit up. Thank GOD I deleted all traces of my old LiveJournal blog or else the tv show would be talking about entries like "Cleo's guide to good head #17: don't fear the taint!"

Ok... so what the fuck am i supposed to say here? You all don't know me, other than what that humbert's said about me in the past. I looked at iggy's first post and it was terrible... like we want to hear about how iggy can't get any pussy? YES IGGY, WE KNOW YOU ARE KLITORAL KRYPTONITE

I guess i'll tell you all a story. because that seems to be what happens on most of these shitty blogs. I have NO idea how to post pics on this thing, so you all are going to have to use your imaginations.

On friday i was at In-n-out burger with Jenny who is a friend. We hang out at the In-n-out because it is like the black diamond of hustling free fast food. I mean, if you are at a taco bell with the high school football team, (or better yet, the chess club) it is the easiest shit on earth to get a free mexican pizza or at least a taco supreme. You just drop a "oh, i am so hungry! and i left my purse in hebrew school!" (no, I am not jewish, but it works for some reason) these guys will fight over who gets to buy you food.

But a friday night In-n-out is very different. See, all the straightedge shows are on fridays and the local straightedge hangout is the In-n-out burger. Yeah, I know they are vegetarian (like me), but they eat the grilled cheese sandwiches. So what you have at the In-n-out is the most expensive food being bought by the kids who won't have sex under any circumstances. So if you can hustle burgers here, you can do it anywhere.

Jenny and I pick "Ben" to work on. We know who Ben is from school, but we don't know-him know him. He's a senior and all his clothes have x's on them. We get in line behind him.

"Hey Jenny, what time is it?"
"almost 11. 10:50."
"I really don't want to go to Eric's party, do you?"
"No, not really."
'I am so sick of getting drunk all the time. but that's all we do at these parties."
"I know, it gets so old."
"I wish there were something else to do, something real, you know?"
Ben says "Hey, what's up ladies?"
...
"Ben you are the best. these grilled cheese are fantastic. you'll call me about that show, right?? you better call me!!"


Of course, the number i gave him was for the animal shelter.

Here's a tip to the ladies: the only things straightedge guys like more than the forbidden-fruit-cheerleader-girls are the girls they think they can convert.

Oh, who the fuck am i kidding? as if any ladies would read iggy's blog.

Friday, April 08, 2005

kareoke at the old town tavern
by iggy

just now i went and recorded a video blog for you all to see. it was me teaching you how to make yogurt and granola which is my favorite midnight snack. but my shitty camera can only record video for 30 seconds so it cut me off halfway through my monologue at the beginning. so, no videos for you today.

but i did go do kareoke tonight and didnt fuck that up. i went down to the old town tavern with cleo cause she's a karaoke nut and they do this every thursday night. cleo is fifteen (and looks that young) but she has this fake ID that says she's 18, which is enough to get her in the door (but no drinks). who the fuck buys a fake id that says 18? i dunno. cleo, apparently. she says she's tried passing for 21 before and it never works.

so we get in there and do our usual coke/rum-and-coke scam to get her alcohol. up on stage are these three guys that keep rotating through jimmy buffet tunes. one would sing and the other two would air-guitar. well it wasnt quite air-guitar because they had these fake guitars they were holding. but you get the idea.



wasting away in margaritaville

cleo gets her request in to the dj guy real soon, so she gets to go up before i do. her first song is "like a virgin" and she stares at the dj the whole time she sings it, and all sexy too.

when she gets back down from the stage, she says "that should help us get our songs" and fills out request forms for "i touch myself", "killing me softly" and "its raining men". i filled out just one with "anything by whitesnake" (i know them all) and we went up front to turn them in. cleo gets a wink from the dj guy.

anyway, it took forever for me to get called. i think cleo got in three songs before i did my first, and when i did get called up the song was "slow an' easy", which totally sucks. for most of the evening it was just cleo and the jimmy buffett trio. oh and this one guy who did "LA Woman" three times.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

poetry and strip scrabble
by iggy

tonight i got a call from cleo. she was home alone and bored.

her: hey, i'm bored. come over.
me: uh, i dont really...
her: come on. i have scrabble here. and dad's beer.
me: uuh...
her: oh and leo's gone and you can look through his journal if you come over.
me: ok. be there in 20 minutes.


cleo's place is not that far, so i rode my bike over there cause my car still is broken. i've been unemplyed ever since i got in a fist fight with one of the software developers at my old bugtesting job and i dont have any money to fix my crx. it really sucks because randy and me cant finish the big action sequence in this movie we are filming called "space race 2157". i still have the pyrotechnics taped to my car right where they were when the accident happened. there's been some rain though, so we may need to buy some new model rocket engines for the thrusters.

but anyway, i rode my bike over to cleo's place. she let me in and we talked for a bit before starting to play:

me: lemme see leo's journal. the blog readers need more of his amazing poetry.
her: later, iggy. here's the deal. we play a few games of scrabble and then you can see leo's journal.


that sounded fair, so i said okay. then cleo tells me we are playing "strip scrabble", where each game you win, your opponent removes some clothes. i figure this is a great deal, cause cleo is hot as hell and i have like ten years of age and wisdom on her.

it didn't quite work out that way, though.

me: there's no way in hell "cwm" is a word
her: is that a challenge?
me: it's just not a word! remove it!
her: are you challenging?
me: yes.
her: ok, look it up.
...
me: fuck.


her: no, really iggy. "zillion" isnt a word or a number or anything.
me: what? of course it is. its bigger than a trillion.
her: ok, challenge.
me: what? you're nuts. i'll look it up.
...
me: fuuuck.


so, about two hours into this thing, cleo is out of her sweater and i am wearing only my undies and one sock. then we hear her parents drive up and the garage door open.

i left through the back. i didn't get to see leo's journal. see how much i sacrifice to bring you all poetry?

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

no one likes a cheap funeral
by iggy

helen was a teacher. so when she died, the school offered up its big meeting room for her service. someone thought it would be a good thing to take them up on it and so we did. it was probably a mistake.

first, who wants to sit in those crappy school folding chairs for something like that? especially when her second grade class is there and every one of them gets a chance to come up front and talk about how she was the "bestest" or "really nice". i mean, if you asked these kids a week ago, they would have said she had cooties and now they think she is the bestest?

second, how hard would it be to get that automated school intercom disabled during the funeral? during one moment of prayer, some asshole came on to remind us about some after school crafts club.

and third, i know helen didn't leave much money for the service, but serving school food? i mean, i like chocolate milk as much as the next guy, but at a funeral??


i didn't know half the people there. was this one a girl or guy? i dunno.

after the funeral we were at helen's place dealing with all her stuff. no one knew what was in the will yet, so we were just moved her shit to storage so we wouldn't have to pay another month's rent. one thing we couldn't lock up in storage, though, was kirby.


kirby has diarhea issues

at first, no one wanted kirby cause he has serious diarhea issues. helens house has all these carpet stains near the door from times kirby almost made it outside (and other stains, like those hideous bedsheets). anyway, some time sunday afternoon, there was this rumor going around that helen had written kirby into her will in a serious way and everything changed. after that, all anyone could talk about was how big their back yard is or how good their kid is with animals.

at the end of the arguing, my uncle steven ended up with kirby. when everybody read the will on monday, though, all kirby got was the last of helen's supply of "depends". i think she meant it as a joke, but uncle steven didnt find it all that funny.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

los angeles, i'm lost
by iggy

i'm not all dramatic and all so i'll tell you this up front: we lost helen. but that counselor-lady that they had at the hospital told me that "denial" was the first thing to do, and it just feels right, so i think i'll do that for a few days and talk about other things instead. like about how my dad can't drive in los angeles.

we got into lax in the afternoon, around 4:00. it took us forever to get out of there, though, cause dad lost his fanny pack on the plane. for like 20 minutes after all the other people left the plane he was looking under all the seats. he was bitching about the stewardesses stealing it (and his iRiver), but then one of them found it in the lavatory. it had slid under the sink or something. mom thought it was really funny, something about "price of joining the mile high club" or something.

so once we got off the damn thing and made it down to baggage claim, and it was just our stuff going around the baggage thing. we picked it all up and went out to flag down the guy from "wally park", the place we parked the car. when we got on, the driver was going on and on with the guy in the front seat about women: "she saw me with my brother so she sent me a notice, a letter, saying she would like to meet me, so I said 'okay, no one has ever done this to me before' so i went and met her. that was twelve years ago and now we have three kids".

so once we got the car and got on the freeway (405), everything just stopped. we had driven faster through the wally park parking structure than we were going on the 405 freeway. my dad was all for just sitting it out and waiting, but my mom was going to have none of that, "lets get off... the side streets cant be slower than this".

it turns out the streets were fast, but didn't take us home. we got very lost and drove for four hours before we made it back to the freeway. but by that point there wasn't any traffic at least, so the idea sortof worked out.

i spent the four hours taking photos.





Saturday, April 02, 2005

helen is ill
by iggy

my aunt helen is sick. she has been for awhile. helen is my moms sister. i dont know exactly what is wrong with her, but it has to be pretty serious cause we all came to canada this weekend (me, mom, dad) to see her.

canada is cool so far. the weather has been bad, this morning it was raining and snowing at the same time. now its just raining. but every time i get bumped into on the train or on the street i get a "sooory". so the canadians are nice so far.