March 11, 2010

Tipsy gypsy is online! I finally moved out of Myspace! Anyone who’s read my posts on there knows that I collect pictures and quotes and store them up for ONE GLORIOUS DAY. Which becomes this. My life goals involve wanderlust, being a Jainist nun, turquoise hair, animal shelters, roadtripping, nose piercing, India, barefoot with redwoods, cliffdiving, playing banjo on a streetcorner, and many many cats. It’s a proven, scientific fact that I am OUT OF MY FUCKING TREE. Unless it’s your tree? Oh dear.

Eating ice cream has become like fucking a boyfriend you no longer want. You only do it because you have vague memories of enjoying it, but now it cures you of EVER WANTING IT EVER AGAIN because it’s so so godawful. (Yeah, I’m lactose intolerant now. Ow.) I haven’t slept in over two days, and it’s 5 am. This isn’t insomnia, this is madness. (Or Sparta.) My brain is saying, “REM sleep eh? Well, fuck your tits madam, I’ve got Google to play with.”

And putting on my worried shoes, I don’t know if I got that job, I don’t know if I got into any UCs, I really want my stuff back from my ex who still hasn’t responded. I do not approve of this douchebaggery. But the weather finally feels like we’re not in Scandinavia anymore (67 degrees and humid, oh sweet vishnu yes), so I went for a looong walk that turned into ten miles; I explored the train tracks and the creeks, found some rusty junk that I will make art out of, got my job interview pants muddy, and found a stuffed flamingo toy! I named him Vivian.

Karen O and the Kids. are wonderful and lovely and great. They did the soundtrack for Where the Wild Things Are. I honestly thought I wouldn’t like them, because I’m ambivalent towards the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s; on one hand I love her voice and some songs are fantastic, but other songs are too thrashy for me (I’m a folk kid at heart, I know. I AM DELICATE LIKE A FLOWER.)

Here, Videos to keep me from mumbling incoherently at my Macbook. Good god, I look like a heroin addict; dark around the eyes, cheekbones sticking out like knife edges. Maybe I should eat something. “Here’s your half of the sunshine acid. EAT IT.”

“Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn. My God do you learn.” [C.S. Lewis]

I’ve never been an “indie cred” kind of douche. Oh no, I’m a different kind of douche entirely! The kind that slaps you in the face with a dong. While singing. And making your liquor and daughter’s virginity disappear.                             [naked.]

I’m in an indie band. My instrument is the pelvic thrust.

Blue, you radiant blue
I don’t know how you can stand next to me
You, you talk like a noose
And only confuse my perplexity
Now that I’m so sad and not quite right
I could dance all night
I could dance all night – clap your hands say yeah

“The poet becomes a seer through a long, immense, and reasoned derangement of all the senses. All shapes of love, suffering madness. He searches himself, he exhausts all poisons in himself, to keep only the quintessences.” – Ginsberg

we are trapped in the belly of this horrible machine, and the machine is bleeding to death

I speak in smoke signals and you answer in code
The fuse will have to run out sometime
Something here will eventually have to explode
Have to explode – the mountain goats

“For reasons unexplained, every person in the world is born with a large gaping hole in the center of their chest. While not uncomfortable, it is widely considered unsightly and pretty much everyone tries to fill it with something. Some people fill it religion, others just buy a bunch of stuff, and some even try to fill it with other folks. I left mine alone though, because I found out that if you run against the wind at just the right angle… it makes a whistling noise.” –Aaron Diaz of Dresden Codak

“You might think that he’s hiding a secret smile under his mustache. But he is hiding another, angrier mustache.”

“My grandmother’s cure for the cold was to drink a bottle of champagne every hour. Of course it does nothing to cure the cold, but it gives the sickness a sort of histrionic quality….
‘Will you sit down please? You have been flailing around like a crippled windmill all night. No I do not want to play cards!”

“The pearly gates had some eloquent graffiti like “we’ll meet again” and “fuck the man” and “tell my mother not to worry”- Iron & Wine

And if you go chasing rabbits, And you know you’re going to fall, Tell ’em a hookah smoking caterpillar has given you the call…

“W-well…at least you didn’t get slapped with a DICK!” “I’ve never even seen a dick in real life.” “Dammit Marigold you are making it hard to be flippant.”

“Heard you tried to keep your hat on a shelf, married a woman, went off and loved someone else. I could be as well, I cannot tell. Oh no, I cannot tell!”- Blind Pilot

Your breath smelled like courage laced with alcohol

you were all impatience and eloquence, and that night, a forest grew


When Hunter S. Thompson’s “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” stumbled into the American literary scene in 1972, it was embraced immediately as a new classic, and has been screaming incoherently at the other classics and eating all the shrimp at their parties ever since.

“When you came, you were like red wine and honey, And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.”- Amy Lowell

I’m going to spend the afterlife getting shitfaced with James Joyce and Ernest Hemingway

“Smoky, this is not Nam, this is bowling, there are rules!”

“I have dreams of orca whales and owls, but I wake up in fear you will never be my, you will never be my, fool, will never be my fool. A little bag of cocaine, a little bag of cocaine, so who’s the girl wearing my dress?”-Regina Spektor

The platypus is mother nature’s way of saying, “I made this thing out of spare parts I found on the workshop floor, and it can still FUCKING CRIPPLE YOU.”

I’ll write you a love song, and make it like wilco, but about pancakes instead of lost love and shrieking laptop feedback!

fucking zombie ninja spies woke me up

“Since her return from her stay on the moon, she listens like spring and she talks like june.” -train

“Waking before you, I’ve got a fever and a childish wish for snow…”- iron & wine

To dramatically increase your chances of survival during a zombie apocalypse, make sure you always have “that one asshole” traveling in your party with you, otherwise you might end up playing the role of “that weak douchebag,” a similarly ill-fated character.

“Thinking outrageously, I write in cursive, I hide in my bed with the lights on the floor. Wearing three layers of coats and leg warmers, I see my own breath on the face of the door. Oh, I am not quite sleeping. Oh, I am fast in bed.” -Sufjan Stevens

“Hindus, in their capacity for love, are indeed hairless Christians, just as Muslims, in the way they see God in everything, are bearded Hindus, and Christians, in their devotion to God, are hat-wearing Muslims.” – Yann Martel

“I guess the only thing we have in common is our love of boobs.” “Haha, I guess so!” *looks down* “MAN I love boobs.” “WORD.”

It seems that bisexuals are the redheaded stepchildren of the sexual spectrum .

If you’re male and you like Twilight, you’re gay. I don’t mean that in the derogatory sense, I mean it in the “you want to put your testicles against another man’s testicles while gripping handfuls of chesthair” kind of way.

You are so beautiful. Do rude things to me. Please. I beg you.

I’m going to start saving up money to teach my liver to sing sea shanties

“Your teeth are for tearing, tear into me. The scent of your sweat, it smells good to me. All that we are just reeks with the sweetest belief. All I could want is silver and spinning, out from your arms and into the pretty pit of your heart.” -Neutral Milk Hotel

Yahoo answers is like the bathroom wall of internet advice websites.

As my Ethics professor once told me, “Use what you got, SweetTits!”

“You’re dating Lewis, who’s in Arizona, and you’re fucking me, so what could you possible be doing tonight? Pumpkin, you’re dating an asshole. You’re dating the biggest dickweed in New York. Pumpkin, you’re dating a tumbling, tumbling dickweed.”-American Psycho


{647.19.34 error:// the program [Tangerine] has been eaten by zombies. Reboot [Tangerine]?}

“I got burned up in the great fire, reassembling myself, slowly but surely.” – the mountain goats

love and other indoor sports,



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