horror movie footsies
Just in time for Halloween, the skin on the soles of my feet is doing its best George Romero. I'm not sure if it's my new shoes, or the fact that I've been taking so many dance classes (barefoot), but combined with the dilapidated silver toenail polish, the effect is downright reptilian. I'd been thinking about getting one of those sassy spa chair pedicures before the peeling began, but now I'm afraid to; afraid the esthetician will recoil in horror--or worse yet, that I will get A Lecture. Like the 'Happy Teeth' lecture, you know the one.
Speaking of Halloween, I have decided to go as Anger. I have this fabu gown purchased for five smackers at Out of the Closet, the resale shop that gives all its proceeds to AIDS research. This is important because I suspect I am the first born female to wear this shimmery purple-pink-magenta confection, with its two layers of tulle on top and a built-in crinoline; the thing is a size 14. I have some serious taking in to do. Currently my plan is to make myself some nice prosthetic spines to glue to my shoulders and upper arms, but that involves latex and I am NOTORIOUS for not getting latex-based costume concepts done in time. For other people, fine. I made Slice a prosthetic chin once, and Avocado a lovely pair of troll ears. But for myself, usually it's a last-minute thing with a real headlong quality to it. Mymble has suggested that I find something I can carry as my Grudge, which just proves again how freaking brilliant she is; I'm thinking a puppet about the size of a cat. But with a lot more teeth.
Blogger Stats tells me that someone came here because they were looking for Google hits on Rocky Roulette, the pogo-stick stripper. I am incredibly happy about this and I have no idea why. Either it's someone who knows him, or maybe it's the man himself doing a vanity search. Just think! Brushed by his glittery glory! Nothing but the best for you, Rocky; carry on the good work and for god's sake, don't get that lovely body hurt tumbling off some sweat-slicked stage somewhere.
Yes, I'm free associating. The last neuronal twitches of someone who worked out too hard and then ate too much Thai food. At least I'm not complaining, right?
Incidentally, if you like bluegrassy music with satirical modern themes like "We're Winning the War on Drugs", or music played on a washboard, or women who can sing like Betty Boop, you really must go see the Asylum Street Spankers on their "How the West Was Spanked" tour. Trust me on this one.
