Oh God, don't make me tell you about my weekend. I helped to give MEAT its final send-off on Thursday night. Let the club that used to happen in my living room be remembered as it was at the top of its game: covered in art, playing the stompiest of music, with bloody go-gos on the boxes wielding butcher knives. I miss you but you've been dead for a ( Read more... )

Last night I discovered that the answer to "Oh God, what's that terrible smell?" is "the dead mouse in your dresser." It is a dresser drawer which I don't think that I'd opened in a couple of days, which makes me wonder how long that tiny little smelly thing had been in there. I will soak everything that was in that drawer in bleach, just in case. ( Read more... )

"Good morning, this is a message for Lil' Miss Never. I'm calling about RFID chips. I'd like to have one removed ( Read more... )

It's story time here at the Concrete Bunker, so gather around. We're going to break out the Wayback Machine and take a little trip. We're going a long way back, to a time when I was in high school, or to that brief flirtation with Santa Cruz, or to a time when I had neon pink hair and a boy was breaking my heart ( Read more... )

It's ten thirty and I'm not in the shower. I'm not looking for eyeshadow the color of Dorothy's shoes. I'm not rifling through the blood-stained lingerie drawer for something to wear to MEAT. It's ten thirty and I have to admit to myself that I'm not going to MEAT. I'm not going anywhere. I haven't been anywhere all day ( Read more... )