Monthly Archives: October 2008

in honor of halloween

in honor of halloween, I have decided to share with you a photo of me as a hobo from my second halloween on this planet. some of you may have seen this before. if so, too bad. you’ll just have to look at it again.

here is little liz, the saddest hobo ever. but whoa! check out that stogie! I was so hardcore!

securing my academic cred

so I think I’ll start carrying around a pipe in order to secure my academic cred. I believe that people would take me much more seriously if kept a nice pipe on my person and took it out whenever I had to think. I could lean back in my chair, knit my brow, and gently perch the pipe off of my pouting lower lip. then, it wouldn’t even matter if I actually said anything worthwhile in class. it wouldn’t even matter if I felt completely stupid. observers would see my intellectual prop and be all like “look at liz. she’s so serious and intelligent. I am INTIMIDATED by her academic cred!” just a thought.

that's right it's not a pipe.

that's right it's not a pipe.

this is some weird shit right here

oh my lord.

cascadian farms is WEIRD.



candy corn

I just wanted to give a shout out to candy corn, the most delicious candy in the world. it’s way better than indian corn. that stuff is nasty.

remember: october 30 is national candy corn day.

virginia, no one can warm you

virginia has turned me into a little girly wuss.

it’s 57 degrees out and I’m ready to put on my long underwear, earmuffs, knee-high wool socks, and bear skin coat. oh, and probably some clothing, too. at first when it started getting cold yesterday I was all like “oh, I can handle this. I’m from MASSACHUSETTS, bitches!” then I threw my head back and laughed evil-ly while people shivered past me in down vests and flannel-lined pants. suddenly, the cold pounced upon me like a rabid cougar.

now I’m…so…cold. I feel like if I had a beard, it would have icicles hanging off of it. or if I decided to lick a metal handrailing, my tongue would get stuck to it.

damn you, virginia. why can’t you just be normal?

more from the fine state of virginia

the strangest of all roadside attractions

today, I fulfilled a dream that was several months in the making. I went to presidents park.

the strangeness that is president's park

the strangeness that is president's park. notice william "the fattie" taft at the center.

I first saw presidents park in march when I came down to visit william and mary. my friend kristin, knowing my affection for the presidents, knew it was something I had to see. so, in the virginia dusk, she drove me down route 199 and told me to keep my eyes open. suddenly, rising up out of the ground along the side of the highway were GIANT BUSTS OF ALL THE PRESIDENTS. the orangey light of the setting sun shined on abraham lincoln’s face, who benevolently smiled at passers-by. these white, 15-foot tall cement statues looked like they were growing straight out of the ground from GIANT PRESIDENTIAL SEEDS. I almost had a heart attack. we pulled down the road behind the park so I could take a few photos through a chain link fence.

every time I drove down rt. 199 past presidents park, I would almost drive directly off the road and into a tree. so today, I finally went there to this presidential mecca.

it was weird.

the busts–made of sculpted white concrete and arranged chronologically along a circular path–are just tall enough that you can look right up your favorite president’s nostrils. gentle patriotic music wafts through the air. Informational signs point out the most salient points from each president’s career, often leaving out the most juicy bits. though pointing out that john quincy adams swam in the potomac river everyday, the sign, however, neglects to mention that he did this in the nude.

good ol' george washington

good ol' george washington

I was slightly sadden by the fact that old standards like abe and georgie-poo and andrew “asshole” jackson were fairly well maintained, but the lesser-known presidents (who are always my favorites) had peeling paint and big chunks taken out of their noses. oh, the injustice. I have to say, too, that bill clinton didn’t look much like bill clinton. he looked like a big fatty who’d spent too much time playing video games and eating cheez-whiz. on the other hand, george bush, sr. looked really good. I think there was some heavy republican favoritism at play here. also, the admission was $7.50! $7.50! hopefully they put my money to good use and give FDR a new pair of spectacles. the man is blind without them, seriously.

in conclusion, I suppose I might say that my perceptions of presidents park are not unbepissed.

george bush, sr., looking good

george bush, sr., looking good

bill "butterface" clinton

bill "butterface" clinton

my arms are so short

the tyrannosaurus rex and I have the same problem when looking for sweaters.

the tyrannosaurus rex and I have the same problem when looking for sweaters.

I would like a new sweater. so, being on fall break and reluctant to do any work that I don’t want to do yet, I’ve been spending a lot of time at the outlets and cheap clothing places here in williamsburg, trolling through rack after rack of hideous clothing. just to find a sweater. about halfway through my adventure today at tj maxx, I found a really nice one. at first, I pushed her aside, thinking “oh no liz, that’s just not you. you’re not that stylish. you’d just look foolish wearing that one oh, how people would stare!” I buried her among the other less worthy sweaters, hoping that she wouldn’t catch my eye again with her sweatery loveliness. but she did. so I tried her on.

reader, the sleeves were a foot longer than my arms! of course I stupidly tried it on in front of one of those mirrors out in the open on the storeroom floor, so all the housewives and old retied ladies who happened to be shopping for discount clothing today at 12:05 could watch me embarrass myself with my stumpy arms. they probably thought that I had just taken one of those potions like in the movies where a full-grown person suddenly turns into an infant and his or her clothing pools on the floor, the long sleeves bunched around the tiny infant elbows.

really, I have arms like a tyrannosaurus rex. I couldn’t even reach another sweater I wanted to try on. I tried really hard, and I think the salesgirl saw me struggling and just let me get a cramp, straining for the sweater I could never grasp.

so yeah, no sweater.

oh woe.

grad school is rough on smokey, too.

grad school is rough on smokey, too. DAMN YOU, MARGARET MEAD!

grad school is breaking my spirit. I’m like a unicorn without its rainbow. american studies is hard.
maybe I will drop out and go to clown school. I can be the melancholy clown that dropped out of grad school.

speaking of clown school, have you heard about the 2009 naked clown calendar?
I want to know what clowns eat for thanksgiving. please get it for me for christmas. consult amongst yourselves first, though. I can’t have more than one. ok, four. I can have four. one for each wall.

the twenty top-most books in print at prefent

from a 1783 copy of the onion. read the entire issue here.