i want feather hair extensions. my daughter just got them at the mall. they were only $10 a feather. they’re mad expensive in a salon though.

they’re all the rage with celebrities.

so cool, right?

here’s a 48 sec vid:

FeatherHead

daisies in the hair are pretty rad, too.

the feathers come in dazzling colors. you can wash, dry, curl and straighten your hair with them in. they last about 8 weeks and are attached with silicone-laced beads so they don’t damage your hair. they also come in multiple lengths and can be cut just like hair.

so what’s the rub?

i think i’m too old for them.

i work in corporate america.

these things bum me the fuck out. i want to wear them!  i mean i grew up in the 70s admiring stevie nicks and the whole gypsy belladonna look. i wore feather earrings for chrissake. my style today is bohemian cali rocker chic a la mary louis parker in weeds. and i have messy hair that would hold feathers so awesomely. kind of like this skank:

for illustrative purpose only. sorry kesha haters.

yes, i have bigger more grown up issues to worry about but i avoid them and torture myself with this shallow shit instead. what? you have a better coping mechanism?

so tell me what you think i should do or tell me your coping mechanism or tell me if i should get a tiny diamond nose piercing.  i’m not taking this mid-life crisis lying down, punkers!

are they over yet?

them, the holidays. they over?

no, of course not. we of excess and gluttony need one more round of overindulgence and self-destruction. motherfucking awesome.

i’d like to tell you that i’m all resolved, absolved and involved in the new year. but, i’m still looking out at all of you wondering how you have it in you to remain spirited, social, and drug-free.

i always wonder what those of you with faith do when things seem dark and hopeless? i mean isn’t that why you have faith, so things don’t seem all dark and hopeless? at least being an atheist, i’m not pissed at god for feeling low and estranged. one less person to be mad at and blame is kind of a win, don’t ya think? unless of course god is within, so god is me; therefore, i’m just feeling more wrath with myself. that actually sounds about right.

oh i know i should be all ”to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.“

turn, turn, turn.

but i don’t fucking get it. every time should be a time to laugh, embrace, and dance. fuck the times to weep, mourn, break down, hate, lose, etc. are they really necessary? i’m done with those times, just like i’m over the ass sore that is the holidays.

so i wont talk about those times in 2010 that were supposed to provide some kind of ‘leveling,’ ya know to keep us all humble. like the bp oil spill, teabaggers election wins, jessie james’ infidelity, arizona’s anti-immigration law, bristol palin’s psa, prop 8 supporters, bill donahue blaming the gays for pedophilia, etc.

thrash, thrash, thrash.

this ain’t no grammys, no oscars, no disco, no fooling around, this is just the shit i like from 2010 presented in categories i like:

indie album: high violet by the national (it’s my new testament. their album, alligator, is my 13 commandments. hey, i’m very religious — god is within me, remember — so 10 commandments weren’t enough.)

pop song i couldn’t resist: love the way you lie by eminem and rhianna. (shut up, it’s like a punk pop song. ‘sides, bitch got pipes and i totally sound like her when i wail in the car.)

ukele song: http://bugginword.com/2010/09/24/uke-me-away/ (ok, i may be self-absorbed, but i still suffer.)

breaththrough movie: the kids are alright (color me a lezzy cuz i have the hots for annette bening and juliane moore. then again there’s mark ruffalo. so color me bi-curious.)

salacious sex scene in a movie: casey affleck and jessica alba in killer inside me (not for the faint-hearted and really sick to like any part of this ultra violent film. but my dreams don’t lie.)

rocker tshirt: tie between “it’s motherfucking booze time” (check it here) and “i think i brained my damage” (here).

caught on tape: joe biden to president obama on the passage of health care reform, “it’s a big fucking deal” (vp with a dirty mouth = hawt.)

commercial worth watching: tie between the kia hamsters doing the black sheep and kevin bacon talking about kevin bacon. (i don’t know what product this latter one is for, but who doesn’t love kevin bacon crossing his fingers wishing he could turn into kevin bacon.)

actual comedy: modern family (lmao every week. should be on hbo for added irreverence.)

dramedy: nurse jackie (girl likes herself some narcotics. why didn’t i consider nursing?)

real drama: tie between dexter and mad men (serial killer who slays serial killers vs. stylistic ad biz show. that’s a toughie, right?)

useful technology: ipad (internet on the train with a large screen for my over 40 eyes + name jokes = no brainer.)

memorable talk show moment: conan obrien doing freebird on his farewell show. (dude can rock out with his sub-woofer out. and he tickles my funny bone.)

depraved blog: vodka and ground beef (i’d link you to it but for some reason it’s like gone. without notice. wtf!)

intriguing blog commenter: tie between bugginword and dufmanno. (both make me feel like i’m swirling in some kind of an imaginarium. that’s a good thing, btw.)

awesome gift giver: three way tie between subwow, wicked shawn and a vapid blonde. (i retire my tiara to these sexy, amazing girls who all blew my mind this year.)

rad nail polish design: fuck u on lindsay lohan’s middle finger (how much do i want to wear this in the corporate conference room!)

book without flowery language: tie between squirrel seeks chipmunk by david sedaris and life by keith richards (each of these artists are iconic and the fiercest in their respective crafts: satirist and rock star.)

and since i’m still wallowing in my suckdom, i’d like to end on bad note. why jimmy choo, why?

uggs aren't pretty to begin with, why bedazzle them?

as some of you know my fun is still on the run. first there’s the back and leg pain which after the MRI and x-rays the ortho thinks may be my sacroiliac joint. the fuck? but to be sure i need to have an SI joint injection under x-ray. not happy punkers.

then there’s the car. on my way to pick up a friend for the freelance whales show at johnny brenda’s in philadelphia last night the fucker overheated. this after it overheated and died two weeks ago and after spending $1200 to have it towed and repaired. it does it again. frickem frackem fucking mother cocksucking. i’m done with i service imports, the shop that “fixed” it.

mr. punker came and got me in the city and drove the smoking vehicle home.

i wasn’t going to go to the show. nerve wracked and spent, i was wallowing in self-pity.

then i said to myself, “self, you only live once. and someday i may not be able to go see live music. and live music nourishes my soul. energizes and inspires me.”

what i love about live music is that it gets in my head and kicks the crap out of all the bullshit heavy negative stuff taking up valuable and limited real estate.

so i put on some rocker clothes, added some black eyeliner, packed up my license and FOP card, grabbed an endocet, hopped in mr punker’s big truck and headed to the show.

and i’m happy i did. it was a fun show and other than this encounter with a doucher standing at the bar next to me, i was able to rock out with my subwoofer out.

me: what happened to my beer?  (seeing half dranken beer in front of doucher) did you take my beer?

doucher: sorry honey i just grabbed the one behind me. (who the fuck says “honey.” this kid is like 20-something.)

(doucher passes me back my beer)

me: hope you don’t have herpes.

doucher: just aids.

(stupid. doucher buys himself a new beer. himself! not me. i get his fucking backwash and now he ponies up the $5 for a sly fox dunkel lager.)

me: oh good a new beer since we’re sharing.

doucher: you can a have a sip. even steven. (even steven? you gotta be fucking kidding me?)

me: yeah that’s ok, how about we just establish some boundaries. you keep your beer over there. and mine will be over here.

doucher: ok honey.

(no he fucking didn’t)

and don’t ya know the little scumbag chuggs his beer down in like two gulps leaving me to hold my beer for the rest of the show.

still all was well with my world. here’s a 30 sec video of the show with pics taken from my iphone. turn up the volume, bitches.

Create your own video slideshowat animoto.com.

there’s a gaping hole where my soul used to be. i need to get out of corporate america. mostly because of the pudsuckers i talked about in my last post. it just makes my blood boil that these princesses executives are grossly over compensated and they’re not even doing anything great. they’re not changing the way the world does business, saving lives, or doing anything to prolong the female erection.

au contraire! too many of them are actually running businesses into the ground (e.g., the american bankers and automotive execs).

i have to believe the execs at the likes of franzia and apple, whose companies are doing great things, don’t behave like the rest of these corporate asshats by taking their money for nothing and chicks for free.

the other reason i have to get out is because my mental illness isn’t really compatible with corporate america. there isn’t a name for my mental illness, other than “my mental illness,” because it’s a mixed bag of mental maladies, including but not limited to:

blushing disorder– i hate the spotlight and have issues with authority figures. you have to lovvvvee the spotlight to succeed in corporate america. substance not required.

high-low disorder — i could conquer the world during my manic phase, but i could junk punch a bitch during my low phase.

german disorder – i hate my lack of perfection and criticism thereof. believe me, i’m my own worst critic so i don’t need any help in this department.

irish disorder — i believe drinking and occasional recreational drug use should be part of the creative process. “The problem with some people is that when they aren’t drunk, they’re sober.”  ~W.B.Yeats

punk disorder– i despise conservative clothes, jewelry and hairstyles. why can’t a girl wear rock tee shirts, jeans, and doc martens to work and still be taken seriously?

night owl disorder– i prefer to work when i’m inspired, which doesn’t always occur during the set hours of 9-5.

UV disorder– i’m wilting under fluorescent lights. i need frequent doses of the UV rays to thrive.

george carlin disorder — there’s rarely a sentence formed in my mind that doesn’t have shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker and tits so it’s a little hard to get anything out of my mouth because it requires reprocessing. and let me tell you, my filter is deteriorating with age.

so i’ve explored two alternative ideas, but they have flaws:

photographer– i’d need to be a fine arts photographer, like nan goldin, cindy sherman, diane arbus, robert frank, robert mapplethorpe or larry clark. i wouldn’t want to do babies, weddings or sports. commercial photography might be good if it was fashion or portrait photography like the work of annie leibowitz or richard avedon. but i think it’s a little late in the game for me here.

greeting card writer — hello, have you seen 500 days of summer? but here’s the rub: print is a dying breed in the wake of facebook, twitter, and free e-greetings. ideally sommecards would be a target but often, they’re too mean. hilarious to read, but not sendable.  i would need to start an edgy online greeting card company, without the insult and free factor. anyone in? designers, email me.

if you have any other ideas for me, let me know.

on the up side, everything is well in my little blogosphere. i’ve felt the bloggy love and have bestowed it on those whose writing continues to inspire and entertain me. recently, i received this award, from not one but two beautiful bloggers, sister merry hellish and the barreness.

the rule is i’m supposed to name 10 others to give the award, but the truth is i couldn’t pick just 10. everyone listed in punk places is worthy of this award, so read them all!

cuz i have a exceptional taste in writers and they’re all dougie like that.

i’ve been on a bender lately punkers. last weekend there was nyc and last thursday a late-night concert with four bands (rogue wave, midlake, peter wolf crier and philadelphia’s own, restorations). then a pretty heavy weaning period this weekend. i realize i need to dial it down a notch. i’ve been partying like lilo. which made me think, i wonder what goes through her mind when she has fallen down the rabbit hole and is all tripped out from the crazy binging.

it was easy to channel lilo in my recent state which felt like something created by oliver stone with freaky angles, hallucinatory sequences, and a vaguely surreal feeling. i shared lindsay’s thoughts on twitter with the hashtag #thingslindsaylohansays. only one fun girl played along. i can always count on wicked shawn when it comes to an ingenious hashtag. she’s the diva of them.

well, it’s sunday, i’m in detox mode and feeling lazy, so here’s a quickie. things i imagine lilo says:

really, a white bra, lindsay? i thought you knew better.

my mug shot is kinda bangin’

they tried to make me go to rehab, i said ‘no, no, no’

my publicist told me the betty ford center is where you go to audition for dancing with the stars.

i thought those were pop rocks, how was i supposed to know it was crack? (wicked shawn’s cameo)

partying like a rock star is for pansies.

i blame the slammer for my being a lezzy come lately.

can i bedazzle my alcohol-detecting ankle bracelet?

feeding the homeless is a good deed because i might be one of them someday.

not bathing is my body’s natural way of masking the smell of alcohol.

sometimes the coke causes the sinus infection. sometimes it clears it up.

i don’t want my mom or dad as my conservator. i choose paris hilton.

what’s a conservator?

i plan to tell the judge this was all research for my role as linda lovelace.

it’s only right that i play her in my next film because her nickname is lilo too.

feel free to play along in the comments . . .

i finally had a little spare time today and was able to catch up on some of my favorite bloggers. i should have started looking for a new job because i really want to make more money. i figure if i’m going to wilt  in the corporate world away under fluorescent lights, i should at least be compensated better for the ass raping my pain and suffering.

also other people are moving up around me and i just keep thinking what the fuck am i doing wrong? frat boys and ass lickers who work part-time hours are getting promoted to the likes of assistant vp positions.

my title: piss ant.

also if you really think about what i just said you’d realize the senior vp doing the promoting likes her ass licked. doesn’t that say it all?

i need out.

but looking for a new job is just too heavy a task for me today. i was in nyc over the weekend looking at art. went to the matisse show at moma. it’s been too long since i’ve been to moma. damn, that’s a fun museum. i really love modern art something fierce. it lifts my spirits and makes me feel less alienated. that’s huge, punkers. cuz like major tom i’ve hit an all time low at work and really feel like a space oddity lately.

but then again some modern art leaves me flummoxed. for instance, i think this installation was just too modern even for me.

yeah, i don't get it either.

anyhussy, i also partied like lilo in nyc and am rendered useless today. so job hunting is out and reading my bloggy buddies is in. like modern art, they make me happy. they calm me down. distract me from the dissonance in my head.  (btw, that’s two motherfucking awesome words i’ve used in this post. flummoxed and dissonance. count with me.)

they show me love. they give me shelter from the storm.

recently three of them gave me props on their audacious blogs.  (yep, we’re up to three) midwesternmama, dufmanno, and wicked shawn all turned my frown upside down just by mentioning me.

then one of my all-time faves, midget man of steel, visited and commented on my blog for the first time ever.  i was like SCORE!

and one of my most loyal followers started a blog on turkey trading and alluded (four or no?) to my having been an inspiration for her blog on facebook. ok, it’s not really about turkey trading, it’s about stock trading but you need to read her to get the background.

and the greatest love of all came from elly. she learned a song for me on herbert the ukele and gave me shivers all down my spine.  i’m not kidding, i was so moved i cried listening to her sing and play it.

so maybe i don’t want a new job after all. with a new job comes more responsibility and less time for the blogosphere. and that would make patty punker a very sad girl.

also to every single one of you on my blogroll: thank you for making my world a happier place and bludgeoning (definitely four now) my demons on a regular basis. you are all so original and inspiring to me. i love you all. 

take me away with you my loves.

i’ve received another blogger award. this one is called the end of days award and it’s from this dick who knows how to insult a bitch and crack her up all at the same time — with gusto. it’s pretty awesome.

there are no rules for this award. the only thing i have to do is post a short summation of what i would do if  the mayans were right about 12.21.2012.

i can do this. why the hell not. i don’t have anything else to talk about. oh except maybe this blogher10 conference i attended in nyc this weekend. essentially, it just confirmed for me that i don’t have anything to talk about. i obviously don’t take my blog seriously. fuck, i didn’t even have blogger business cards to pass out.

there are so many bloggers out there who are way more talented.  i don’t even know what i’m doing in the blogosphere.

i don’t have an original bone in my body. i’ve never even coined a word/phrase. i don’t mean like sarah palin (aka shakespeare) who coined “refudiate.”  but actual usable terms like fucktard, crapstorm, cock knuckle or lame sauce.

the homeless people on the street have more words than me. and they’re not even degreed in this shit. and they sure as shit don’t do it for a living where they might stand a chance of having the discipline beaten into them.  and i’ll be a monkey’s uncle if they can’t throw an f bomb way more poignantly.

hell, i can’t even monetize my blog properly. i don’t know how to tell a brilliant story and then tie it to the brand’s needs like one famous blogger (who shall remain unnamed). sure, i figured out how to use google ad sense but that brings in about .000000006 cents per day. however, i think after attending the blogher10 conference i have a blockbuster idea for raking in the ad dollars. just you wait and see! i may reveal it in my next post. if you’re lucky.

i did meet these awesome chicks who can blog like nobody’s business. even though i was my shy and typically socially awkard self especially upon meeting people i adore and admire for the first time, i had a blast partying like rock stars with them.

bugginword and absence of alternatives

a vapid blonde, brilliant sulk, bugginword, for the birds blog, me (who cares)

shy girl wishes she could be a fly girl or spy girl, brilliant sulk, dufmanno

isn’t that a clever title? you know it is.

i’ve been frazzled punkers. just two days to my bahamian vacay and work is in superthrottledeluxe mode so i haven’t had much time to get my social media on. including writing a post. but i did take a picture for y’all.  i’m like the motherfucking giving tree, aren’t i?

people collect shit like stamps, coins, trading cards, star wars action figures, silly bandz, hummels, bunnykins, comics, precious moments, pez dispensers, lunchboxes, tea sets, christmas villages, music boxes, snow globes, ww2 memorabilia, clocks, watches, key chains, advertisements, magazines and salt and pepper shakers.

but i’m a punk so i needed to collect something unconventional. i collect rubber ducks. awesomeness, right? today i’ve brought them out of their natural habitat (the jacuzzi tub in the master bath) and arranged them ever so orderly for your viewing pleasure. does it get anymore benevolent?

click to enlarge. you need to see these BAMFs in their full splendor.

okay so one is a rubber buddha. but how could i resist adding a rubber buddha with coffee and a cellphone to my collection? besides he fits. he’s a budda for christ sake. he fits everywhere cuz he’s all peaceable and pacifisty. poetic license. shutup.

so some i really cherish. like the soccer ball duck (back row left) my daughter, my angel bought for me. she’s a stud goalie so i thought that was tres cute. or the easter egg/bunny/lamb ones (scattered) that i had to hunt for, or the cleopatra one (front row right) that i just got during a trip to the franklin institute in philly to see the cleopatra exhibit, or the chelsea soccer duck (back row center) that mr. punker got me because it’s his favorite team.

what, you think being sappy over rubber ducks is foolish? well, it’s not. it’s cool. and not at all creepy like this:

is it a boy? a girl? a goy? what's with the scary sad eyes?

what do you collect?

who doesn’t like a bad boy? but way more bad ass is the wicked girl. and i got one in my corner. her name is wicked shawn because she is wicked in all the right ways. recently (okay, awhile ago but i’ve been in a time cluster fuck) shawn presented me with this awesome award:

it made me blush and all giddy like a school girl. and who doesn’t like that feeling? no one doesn’t like that feeling, that’s who. so thank you my wicked goddess.

here are the rules:

1. i love polka dots. everything looks good with polka dots. shirts, sweaters, skirts, dresses, bikinis, thongs, scarves, hats … it’s just the happiest fashion detail around.

2. i’m obsessed with hot fries. if i’m going to consume all those calories and fat, and enjoy every second of it, my fries must be hot. cold fries are unacceptable. i will send back the fries even if they’re lukewarm. if you’re thinking i’m high maintenance, you’re right. what’s your point, bitches?

3. a long time ago in a galaxy far far away, i used to have short spiky annie lennox hair. and my grandma would say to me, “trishy trish, why don’t you grow your hair? you don’t look feminine with that short hair.”  i thought i was the bomb-diggety. but turns out grandma was right. when i look back at pictures of me with my punk do, i realized i could mimic annie lennox’s hair but i didn’t have her face. and short hair requires that you give good face.

4. i’ve always wanted to use the phrase ”… can suck my dick!” suck my dick has punch. i like punch. verbal punch, rum punch, punch buggies, punch and judy, punching bags, junk punch. suck my lady bits doesn’t have quite the same ring.

5. i live in nj and i don’t like bon jovi. especially that living on a prayer song. yeah i said it. it’s bubble gum rock. jbj is a better actor than a rocker. now keith richards, he’s a rocker. jbj is, well, cute and cuddly with tight jeans. but keith won’t remember your name and can’t keep his jeans from falling off his heroine-hot ass. after a night of debauchery jbj would say, “we regret the disturbance and apologize to the hotel guests and administration. we intend to provide full restitution for any damages.” keith would say “those bloody pigs can suck my dick.”

6. beignets and chicory coffee from the cafe du monde in new orleans is the perfect breakfast.

7. this song makes me swirl with emotion. it’s melancholy and celebratory all at once. it stirs pathos in me. it’s got crescendo. and it moves me to shout-sing. play it now and play it loud, people!

The Only Living Boy In New York

and if i mentioned music twice in my list of seven, it’s because i fucking love music. for some this is nothing new. for others, this is a bonus list item. and for those who don’t like music, you can suck my dick.

now here are the five bloggers i’m presenting with this award:

1. A Vapid Blonde
2. Absence of Alternatives
3. Annah Banana
4. Midwestern Mamah
5. Dufmanno

today i would like to sell out to the man. well more like the anti-man. not in a gender kind of way. but in an anti-establishment way. i’m using this post to pimp the latest paintings of my dear friend and personal inspiration, david brooks, a starving artist.

actually he’s not starving at all. he made a fuckton of money in the ad biz as a creative director and copywriter. in his 40s he decided to semi-retire and teach himself to paint. ain’t that the shit! it is in my book.

anyhussy, i say starving artist because he doesn’t make a living off his painting yet, but
it’s only a matter of time because he’s on to
something with this recent series.

and i say anti-establishment because david is an outsider artist. outsider art is raw and untaught, and illustrates extreme mental states, unconventional ideas, or elaborate fantasy worlds. it often has nothing to with the mainstream art world or institutions.

david has painted things that sum up america like sports figures, musicians, farms, cows, jet fighters, strange characters and hustlers. his paintings have sold at the prestigious outsider art fair in new york (which we have attended with him many times and where he turned me on to one of my favorite outsider
artists, henry darger), the montreal gallery,
and gallery bourbon-lally.

his paintings have hung in galleries in kansas city, columbus and portland.  a number of paintings are in private collections in oregon, los angeles, las vegas, and cherry hill, nj. one of these new paintings better make it to my private collection for doing this post.

david grew up in cherry hill, nj. he became one of the mad men in the chicago ad world where he met his lovely wife, farmgirl or kathy if you’re not family. he also worked in advertising in portland, seattle, and san francisco.  he has a voracious appetite for music and experiences live music on average
3 times a week. once a huge dead head, he named his first born son, jerry. he also has a darling daughter named lily bell.

david is a huge fan of a good hallucinogenic and many of his paintings are based on visions from some of his religious hallucinations. he’s just the coolest. i love when recreational drugs are put to good use and used to feed the creative genius.

to inquire about one of the new pieces shown here or to see david’s other work, go to his website. and let me know in the comments which one of these new visual
spectacles you think i should choose for my house.