There is nothing more humiliating for an aspiring writer in Los Angeles than to go to a café to work. Here at the wonderful Sabor Y Cultura (Spanish for “Culture and Hot Sex”) in Los Feliz, I listen to what looks like the guys who made Boondock Saints talk about their prison break script, another guy muses over his personal poetry on the couch, and one guy is speedwriting a novel with a Bluetooth headset never leaving his cranium.
I came here to write too; for the blog or for my Emma Watson fanfiction is still up in the air. Oh yea, she gonna get it.
Ok, it sounds like the Boondock guys are actually making a prison break series. And I think they have a Hulk in it. I am intrigued.
I am living vicariously through these two men tonight, and that’s also what’s got me churned up. It has become too easy to fall under the hypnotic spell that working for other people is as good as working for yourself. Read the rest of this entry
It is slightly appropriate that I first discovered Blue Water Comics’s line of comic books in a 7-Eleven. It didn’t strike me as anything too horrible; the publisher had previously made an issue about Hilary Clinton. “It’s just a series on famous babes”, I said to my recently purchased Coke Slushee. It wasn’t until now that I curiously browsed through the issue.
Don’t let the cover fool you; the contents inside contain such a horrendous mish-mash of ideas and confused sexual commentaries that it ONLY could fit inside a comic book about Lady Gaga. Or perhaps the insane scribblings of a closet sex predator who makes couch cushions out of vaginas.
Don’t believe me? If you enjoy metaphysical discussions between Baby Lady Gaga and a man in a schoolgirl’s body taking place in front of a giant Gaga groin, then read on.