Comments!

The word on the street is that my comments aren't working! I have heard this from nigh on five people, which is three more than I even thought read my blog. And I get the impression those three mostly want to post impassioned defenses of You Know Who and his hideous hair.

Rest assured, hoardes of readers! I am working on this comment problem as dilligently as a very, very lazy person with little-to-no knowledge of programing can!

In the meanwhile, here is a graph I've made of my readership, based on this new information:
Advertisers take note!

New Art!

A portrait of my friend Esmerelda FitzMonster*, circa 2002.

And, me, circa a few minutes ago.

*Not her real name

The Gothic Novel

Chapters 1-5 have been spruced up a bit with some new words.

In Lieu of a Sunday Poem

Here are the lyrics to "Total Eclipse of the Heart"*

Every now and then
I get a little bit lonely
and you're never coming around

Every now and then
I get a little bit tired
of listening to the sound of my tears

Every now and then
I get a little bit nervous
that the best of all the years have gone by

Every now and then
I get a little bit terrified
and then I see the look in your eyes

Every now and then I fall apart
Every now and then I fall apart

Every now and then I get a little bit restless
and I dream of something wild

Every now and then I get a little bit helpless
and I'm lying like a child in your arms

Every now and then I get a little bit angry
and I know I have to get out and cry

Every now and then I get a little bit terrified
but then I see the look in your eyes

Every now and then I fall apart
Every now and then I fall apart

And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you'll only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever

And we'll only be making it right
Cause we'll never be wrong together
We can take it to the end of the line

Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight

Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart

Every now and then I know
You'll never be the boy you always you wanted to be
Every now and then I know
You'll always be the only boy who wanted me the way that I am

Every now and then I know
There's no one in the universe as magical and wonderous as you
Every now and then I know
There's nothing any better and there's nothing I just wouldn't do

Every now and then I fall apart
Every now and then I fall apart

And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you'll only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever

And we'll only be making it right
Cause we'll never be wrong together
We can take it to the end of the line

Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight

Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
Nothing I can say
Total eclipse of the heart

*Why? Because tonight while doing karaoke I realized; not only are these lyrics ridiculous to the point of being sublime, but I'm pretty sure Twilight is actually based on this song.

Which I guess could explain the Hair Issues I was discussing the other day, because Seriously:

Moving!

All afternoon, I've been packing my crap and loading it into my dad's car while he sits on my patio reading his Kindle.

Just wanted the whole internet to know about that.

In other news, my friend referred me to a BBC series called "Being Human" which is about a vampire, werewolf and ghost who live together and try to blend in with normal society. Based on the few episodes I was able to (TOTALLY LEGALLY) watch online, it is campy fun on the Torchwood level.

However, I have one strong objection. See if you can guess what it is based on this picture:


Dear Producers of Vampire-Related Media,

Despite what Twilight may have lead you to believe, vampires are allowed to comb and wash their fucking hair.

Observe:

Dracula


Barnabas Collins*


David Bowie!

Even in the 80s, vampires managed to have decent hair (Kiefer Sutherland's mullet in The Lost Boys totally worked in context**)!

Remember when Gary Oldman played Dracula, and he had a butt on his head? I once thought that was the low point in the history of vampire hair. But, thank you, Twilight, you have proved me wrong.

In conclusion, stop ruining vampires!***

I am too old to switch my allegiance to another preternatural species!

Love,
Kitty Pimms

*By the way, I discovered the other night that the cheesetacular 1990s revival of "Dark Shadows" is available to watch instantly on Netflix. It was the first TV show I ever watched ironically, learning sarcasm at the feet of the great Momma Pimms.

**IT TOTALLY DID

***The True Blood creative team is exempt. If you watch that show, I'm sure you know why they have a hair-related lifetime pass.

Two Vomit-Inducing Love Stories

40 Years after Woodstock, this couple is still together:


And even worse: Lost love letter reunites couple after 16 years

I mean, really. That sort of thing doesn't actually happen.

Probably both of these couples are fighting over, like, toothpaste right now.

Sunday Poem

Flavius's Girl; To Flavius
Gaius Valerius Catullus

Flavius, unless she were unpretty and inelegant, you would want to speak
of your darling to Catullus and you wouldn't be able to keep quiet, but
you love some feverish harlot. You are ashamed to admit this. For your bed
shouts that you, vainly quiet, do not lie for empty nights fragrant with
garlands and Syrian ointment, and the bolster equally worn away on this
side and that, and the creaking and movement of your shaking bed. There's
no point in being quiet about your debauchery. Why? You would not reveal
such tired from debauchery flanks unless you were up to something silly. Therefore
tell us whatever you have, whether its good or bad. I want to describe you
and your love to the sky in my nice little verse.

A (Very) Short Play

POPCORN GIRL AT THE THEATRE WHERE WE WENT TO SEE HARRY POTTER: Are your hands... orange?

ME: Oh, yeah. It's just stage blood.

POPCORN GIRL: [creeped out] Oh...kay..?

ME: [baffled, because what if I had some mysterious skin ailment that caused my hands to look orange and was sensitive about it?]

FIN

Wait, what?

You may have noticed that my blog is now backward. I've been experimenting with different layouts, trying to find one that will let me imbed videos properly (so they don't get all cut off at the edges).

I'm not happy with the backwardness, but the video problem is solved, so... we'll see.

I also fixed up my "Drawing" pages at Girlish Whimsy so they look a little nicer, I hope.

I want to figure out a way to work this into the Menu design:



But that will require more thought, and I have a play to do right now.

Yes, I am Jumping on this Bandwagon

So, now that this market has been opened up, I'm pretty I need to exploit it. Perhaps I'll focus on Dickens.

Anyone interested in Oliver Twist, but With Werewolves?

Bastille Day

Liberté, égalité, fraternité!
Ça ira

Another Open Letter

Dear iTunes,

It has come to my attention that you may not be sure of the definition of the word "sexy."



Please take a long, hard look at yourself, a long hard look at this, and mend your ways at once.

Love,
Kitty Pimms

P.S. You've also clearly confused McDreamy with McSteamy (Patrick's the sensitive one), and even Brad Pitt's most ardent admirers have got to be turned off by that Benjamin Button shit.

Post 101!

Happy 101st Blog Post To Me!

You're probably feeling nostalgic about all the great times we've had over the last few months, addressing such diverse topics as conceptual art, education reform, why dinosaurs are awesome, and how much Twilight sucks. I bet you're thinking to yourself, "I sure wish Kitty Pimms had made a snazzy 3D pie chart of her most popular blog topics to aid my reminiscences."

Your wish is my command!


Now I bet you're wondering "How is Kitty going to celebrate this auspicious day?"

Why, by shirking work, my good reader!

Not only did I pause my costume making to create exciting champagne graphics and pie charts, I also spent a good portion of time making myself nifty headbands out of fabric scraps.



And then drawing pictures of myself wearing them.

And then blogging about it.

Productive!

New Gay Companions(-ish)

A friends drew my attention to these fairy-tale playing cards from the 19th century.

Despite several minutes of half-assed internet searching, I was unable to figure out which fairy-tale was supposed to be depicted in any of the suits, so I went ahead and made up my own.

I put it with the Gay Companions because it's the same sort of found-image-word-collage-thing. Which is the totally accurate and technical term. Tell your friends.

An Open Letter

Dear Giles from Buffy,*

What the crap are you doing in this Merlin abomination? I just tried to watch it and literally could not stand it for five minutes.

I mean, come on, man. You're Giles! Surely there's something British and classy that needs doing... Isn't there some Dickens adaptation you could be staring in?

You know what? I'm not even angry. I'm just disappointed.

And why, in this sort of production, do the grungy little marketplaces outside the castle always have a stand selling oddly shaped baskets? Were weird baskets really in such high demand among the peasants of pseudo-historical Britain? They don't seem to be useful for anything other than decor... Are these stands like the Ye Olde Pier One? And if so, how do they make any money, when the people are all starving and oppressed?

Seriously. Get it together, man.

Love,
Kitty Pimms

*Yes, I know you have a real name. Shut up.

I Strongly Identify with this Stick Figure

When I lived in San Francisco, there was a sign on the door to the roof of the building that said DO NOT ENTER, and a bunch of handwritten signs taped around it with things like "If you go on the roof you will be FINED" "This means YOU" "Stay the crap off the roof, guys, for serious!" "The roof is totally covered in scorpions and whatnot and will KILL YOU!"*

God almighty did I ever want to go on that roof! And as someone who's terrified of heights,** roofs (rooves?) are not generally my favorite place to hang.

You could totally Tom Sawyer me into doing anything with a DO NOT [BLANK] sign.

In fact, let's try it now:

DO NOT DO LAUNDRY! (Kitty Pimms, this means you)

Screw you, man! I'm gonna separate those delicates SO HARD.

THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID*


*I may have gotten a little carried away toward the end, there.
**My head is not meant to be more than 5'5" inches off the ground... tippy-toe is as high as I go.

Huh.

I got home from lunch today and found a huge pile of dirt and woodchips in the parking lot:

Either it randomly appeared in the space of a couple hours (there are no trucks or other signs of activity around it), or it was there when I left this morning and I somehow failed to notice it.

Whichever, it is odd.

Questions Answered

Sometimes, people say things to me. Things like "Kitty Pimms, why are you so sarcastic all the time?"

Or, "Oh, Kitty. Don't people have the right to go out to dinner without having their sartorial choices critiqued?"

Or even, "Can't we just have one conversation where you don't try to eviscerate me with your razor-sharp wit?"

In brief, I have a reputation for being somewhat acerbic. Perhaps I remind you of this fellow.

In answer to these, and other similar questions, allow me to present some email correspondence on the subject of a recently deceased pop star:

---

From: grandmapimms@thisisnotreal.com
Subject: (no subject)
To: mommapimms@totallymadeup.net, unclepimms@fake.org, cousinpimms@imaginaryemail.co.uk, kittypimms@girlishwhimsy.com

Michael who????

---

---

From: mommapimms@totallymadeup.net
Subject: (no subject)
To: grandmapimms@thisisnotreal.com, unclepimms@fake.org, cousinpimms@imaginaryemail.co.uk, kittypimms@girlishwhimsy.com

that guy from Gary, Indiana; Gary, Indiana; Gary, Indiana
The music conservatory there...you know....

---

---

From: unclepimms@fake.org
Subject: (no subject)
To: grandmapimms@thisisnotreal.com, mommapimms@totallymadeup.net, cousinpimms@imaginaryemail.co.uk, kittypimms@girlishwhimsy.com

I heard that the paramedics reported that in spite of their best efforts, Michael never did regain his color :-)

---

With this gene pool, I never had a chance.

Just a Link

No comments.

Just click here.

I promise, you won't regret it.

Sunday Poem

Early because I have to drive back to MI at the crack of dawn tomorrow for rehearsal and will not, likely, do anything but fall into bed when I finally get home.

"next to of course god america i
love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh
say can you see by the dawn's early my
country 'tis of centuries come and go
and are no more what of it we should worry
in every language even deafanddumb
thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry
by jingo by gee by gosh by gum
why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
iful than these heroic happy dead
who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
they did not stop to think they died instead
then shall the voice of liberty be mute?"

He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water

-e.e.cummings

Happy Independence Day!

Some Vaguely Patriotic Stuff:

Kitty Pimms, July 4th, 1989

Kapow! Kapow!


Until I moved to Virginia, I thought Tastee Freeze was something John Cougar made up for this song

"Why do you sound surprised? I love America. Just because I think gay dudes should be allowed to adopt kids and we should all have hybrid cars doesn't mean I don't love America." -Liz Lemon

Word.

Happy Belated Canada Day!

Why do I always think Canada Day is the second? Perhaps because Canada is only half as cool as America?


O Canada

Just kidding, Canada! I kid because I love! Here are some Canadian things that make me happy:

Margaret Atwood

A major inspiration for The Gothic Novel

Hark! A Vagrant

Always a good time

The Stratford Festival

(even though our Caesar is way sexier than theirs)

And, of course

Is It Just Me...

...Or is Sir Walter Raleigh giving me the "Pattinson Eye" in this portrait?



Aw, and look, he's got his kid doing it too:



Is that the look that got Bess Throckmorton in to bed?



Liz and her ermine are Not Amused.