Friday, December 5, 2008

Nowhere Man

“Slowly as the talk goes on, slowly, we have the feeling we are getting nowhere. That is a pleasure which will continue. If we are irritated it is not a pleasure. Nothing is not a pleasure if one is irritated. But suddenly, it is a pleasure, and then more and more, it is not irritating. And then more and more, and slowly. Originally, we were nowhere, and now again, we are having the pleasure, of being slowly nowhere. If anybody is sleepy, let him go to sleep” – John Cage

History of the Dial-a-Poem era ala the New York Times,

"It's 1969; the phone is the medium and the poem is the message. Dial-A-Poem is brand-new. You pick up your phone, dial (212) 628-0400 and hear one of a dozen recorded poems by William S. Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg, Joe Brainard, Anne Waldman, John Cage or who knows who. The next day there's a fresh dozen. Some are dirty. Some are radical. A lot are about guns. Some really aren't poems at all but songs or rants or sermons.

Millions called. "The busiest time was 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., so one figured that all those people sitting at desks in New York office buildings spend a lot of time on the telephone," wrote John Giorno, the founder of Dial-A-Poem. "The second busiest time was 8:30 p.m. to 11:30 p.m. ... then the California calls and those tripping on acid or couldn't sleep, 2 a.m. to 6 a.m.""

I sit at my desk now, researching the receding glaciers, our deteriorating planet. My politically correct office calls our cubicles, pods. My calender is ticking down the days to something. My coworker told me today that the only way to really kill cockroaches is get rid of all your alcohol. I tell him, that's just not going to happen. Humanity is meant to have cockroaches. I have seven pictures of people from an African culture to my left. They all wear red. Bean, everyone's telling me to eat beans and fiber. Today it's healthy. Fish is not. Mercury. The poison, the planet, our loss.

I can see the allure of calling. Listening to sages. Listening to new ideas, to people who are not boring. Not clad in three piece suits, pin stripes and constrictive ties. Goodbye formalities, hello spontaneity!

What would you want to hear on the other end of the line? Who would pick up on your phone call to no-one? One of us is always on the other end of the receiver.




Wednesday, December 3, 2008

An Important Document, read aloud.

You may read along if you like:

When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Law of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

The Almost Generation

We make new strides in fashion, almost.

We make unheard of music, almost.

We make never-been-seen art, almost.

We write experimental poetry, almost.

We are the Almost Generation, continually reaching for something that has never been and never quite getting there. 

We are the Almost Generation, continually striving for all types of equality and fairness, but only almost getting there.

"The Almost Generation" expresses the hope and despair of our current age. It's an awkward age, it's a vulgar age, it's an almost age.

I'm almost sorry for this post, but not quite.

Leading a Poopuseful Life

Posing a question: Does a person's poop schedule mean anything about their life? Possibly reflect their life? Can a bowel movement turn into an intellectual movement?

According to, about 3/4's of anyone's average, normative turd is made of water. The neutral Ph of water is integral for many enzymes and most life on the blue planet. For example a cell of the E Coli virus contains 70% of water, the human body chimes in at roughly 70%, the plant body goes all the way up to 90% and the body of an adult jellyfish (one of life's most ancient inventions) is made up of 94–98% water.

Transitively speaking, this makes poop really important. So important that we have no shortage of words for the said artifact, introducing an introduction of the poop A,B,C,D's....sing along now.
  • anal butter
  • ass goblins
  • awkie
  • booty cakes
  • bowel movement
  • brownie
  • ca ca
  • coeliac flux
  • coprolites
  • crut
  • doo
  • doodie
  • dookie
  • drek
  • drol
  • dropping
Whatever the case may be, I think there is a mental, emotional and physical imperative to having a rewarding shit on a regular basis. Talk amongst yourselves.



Saturday, November 22, 2008

Friends as Mixed Tapes (working tittle)

Friends as mixed tapes. 7 1/2 songs, rounded upwards, for each.

Music is the truth baby. It's the language of higher beings, and the combination of the animal call with linguistic human truth.

Here is our Typology of Friends in terms of Musical Simulacrum. Y'all enjoy now!

Warren Kessler (pictured on left) as a Mixed Tape:

1. Sloop John B.
by The Beach Boys

2. Wouldn't It Be Nice
by The Beach Boys

3. Kokomo
by The Beach Boys

4. I Get Around
by The Beach Boys

5. Good Vibrations
by The Beach Boys

6. Surfin' Safari
by The Beach Boys

7. Still DRE
by (y'all know!) Dr. DRE

7, 3/4. Cecilia
by Simon and Garfunkel

A League of Her Own (not pictured and name not disclosed) as a Mixed Tape:

1. Purple Haze
by Jimi Hendrix

2. Drippy Eye
by Black Moth Super Rainbow

3. I Wanna Be Sedated
by The Ramones

4. Devil in Her Heart
by The Beatles

5. Wild Pack of Family
by Modest Mouse

6. Destroyer
by The Kinks

7. Throw it on a Fire
by Bell Orchestre

7, 3/4. For Real
by Okkervil River (fucked up, man. check it out. all about murder)

Thomas McDonald (pictured in middle) as a Mixed Tape:

1. Sex and Candy
by Marcy Playground

2. Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk
by Rufus Wainwright

3. Doo Wop (That Thing)
by Lauryn Hill

4. Flip!
by Apollo Sunshine

5. Down on the Corner
by CCR

6. The Scotsman
by Bryan Bowers

7. Poor Tom
by Led Zeppelin (poor tom, works done, been lazin' out in the noonday sun)

7, 3/4. Lola
by The Kinks

Vanessa Fitzgerald (only female picture) as a Mixed Tape:

1. Fix You
by Coldplay

2. Mama Mia
by Abba

3. Squeezebox
by The Who

4. Call Me
by Blondie

5. Paint it Black
by The Rolling Stones

6. Canned Heat
by Jamiroquai (specification: off the Center Stage soundtrack)

7. We Belong Together
by Mariah Carey

7. 3/4. Fuck the Pain Away
by Peaches

Cura ut valeatis, and להתראות

L,WoJ and KRw/H

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

That which pertains to the softening of spirits...

After getting past the houses, we come to a stop. Many ought to have been wondering at that. Many suffer great terror. For the carriages, which we had ordered to be brought forward, had been driven to the opposite part, although they were in the most flat field.

Because of those sentences... I will be drinking heavily tomorrow evening... around... noon thirty. I figured I may as well post it on my blog that I will be doing so, because I think I might begin at noon thirty in Kogan Plaza.... I'll be the hatted crazy brown baggin' it, and you can point and laugh and say 'hey, that's the hatted crazy who fucked up Latin and Calculus by means of Sex and the City!" 

Damn urban sex bitches.


Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Today's Weather

It's snowing.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Predictions for Next Year's Baby Names

Here is my prediction for the top ten baby names for 2009 all inclusive in terms of gender:

1. Brydon
2. Flora
3. Opie
4. Kaki
5. Jodi Picoult
6. Clinique
7. Chong Cha
8. Aloysius
9. Henry
10. Cockrell

Taking bets up to $5 that I'm right.

Love y'all,


Monday, November 10, 2008

The Love Song of Olga and Manny by T.S. Eliot

Some things I've learned about DC in the four years I've been here include

1) there are a lot of gay men who are very attractive and seemingly straight, and
2) there isn't a good pizza place that delivers to campus (with possibly the exception of Cappucino's, but I swear the last time the pizza-maker was on acid because my pizza was shaped like an ameoba and all the toppings were on one slice).

So... I feel like there is a correlation here. And my roommate (hey ya! to the K.V.) enlightened me last night, and I quote: "Waiting for a pizza from Manny and Olga's is like waiting for a boy to call."

The more I thought about it, the more truth I found in this Wilde-like observation. Let's examine.

About waiting for a pizza: About waiting for a boy to call:

1) the idolization of your phone...

it sits on the table in front of you or on the window sill or in your hand while standing near a window... because we all know that the closer your phone is to the sky, the better service you get.

lack of service will not be the reason this all-important phone call is not received!

2) all-consuming hunger...

however... waiting for pizza, waiting for boy gives you reason not to eat anything at all... not even to tie you over.

2) thoughts of the other's infidelity...

how many people could he/pizza place possibly be servicing? are they delivering to someone else instead and forgot about you? should you call?? make sure that the delivery is on its way??

3) stress of the situation results in eating before the meal...

when it finally arrives, you already feel fat.

4) feelings of guilt and low self-esteem...

when you eat it anyway, you feel guilty, and the question becomes:
will you order from there again?

all your friends say no, but they're alway open late! and it's pretty cheap for DC prices!

As a result of the examination:

Pizza, like sex and love, cannot easily be consumed. Pizza, like sex and love, cannot be satisfyingly consumed without a long wait and a long drink.

Basically, Manny and Olga's is only good if you want pizza because it's been a while, not because you really want to enjoy a delicious slice of the pie.

Cura ut valeatis,

Leah, wife of Jacob

Tuesday, November 4, 2008


Ba-Rock the Vote!!

DC is trembling by the energy of election day. I'm bringin' that electricity to PA today.

Love the people, by the people, for the people. Vote. And vote Obama!

Quoth the Dylan: "The times they are a' changing." It's time to meet the power of the dominant culture with the power of the people, baby!

Love y'all,


Sunday, November 2, 2008

Coca Cola

So.... there is this really cool coca cola t shirt I want, but I need to collect enough 'Coke Rewards' Points. 

If you look on the underside of your coca cola product's cap, you'll see a number/letter combo.... can I have that combo to enter online and get this t shirt???

Thanks folk.



Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Midterms are fun (full stop).

Here is an email the Engl Dept sent out today:

[and quote]

When you have a moment, please stop by the seventh floor of Rome Hall and add your quotation to the "Sticky Words Project" on the wall in front of room 771.

Our objective is to reach the point when the wall is COMPLETELY covered in post-it notes. Bring your own sticky notes or use the ones we've placed there.

Hey, it's more fun than writing midterm papers. Isn't it?

[end quote]

I would have to argue: No, it is not more fun than writing a midterm paper. But I am going to post a sticky note anyway.

Any suggestions? I will post all suggestions, no matter what they are, on the Engl Dept wall... so go ahead and project all your negative thoughts and feelings on me.


Even if you're over 35, come anyway... there's at least going to be someone else who looks as old as you.



Monday, October 27, 2008

I went home this weekend...

Displaced voyeur watching rural coffee shop hipsters.

Lancaster County, central Pennsyltucky.
Going urban in the middle of farm.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

The Seagull

All y'all should come see 'The Seagull' directed by Jess Creane, starring Vanessa Fitzgerald and some other actors that you probably know if you go to GW... but mainly just Vanessa is the star!

No, for real, everyone was really good.

Friday, 7pm and 10pm showings, Lisner downstage, aka the Black Box.

Or! you can come with me on Saturday night at 8pm, same place!

I will be the shorty outside, wearing a cream colored knit cap (made by my mama) and probably chain smoking Marlboro Lights... the hard pack please! (why even make soft packs??)


by Anton Chekhov

a great play.

Cura ut valeat,


Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Ads that come up on your FB?

So Google, who (notice the use of a pronoun that suggests life) will rule the whole world someday soon, has figured out how to place on a web page advertisements that are relevant to the text on the web page.

This is not a new thing.

What this means is that the things we look at or search for the most are recorded by Google's 'crawler' ( I'm pretty sure that's right, but maybe not) and then we see ads for things we are more likely to buy.

Here is a list of ads that have come up for me just today on Facebook and on the side of my Gmail account:

Singing birthday cards
Bath rubber ducks
T-rex room-mate 50% off
Fly cheap to Seoul 70% off airfare
Recent Toy Recalls
Find People in 1 Minute: Get current name, phone, address. No Hit? No fee!
Your New Best Friend: a new computer
Michael Phelps Halloween

So... now you know what kinds of things I search for on the internet.

What are your ads??

Cura ut valeat,



Hey y'all, it's this kid's birthday today!!!

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Do Dogs and Cats get their Periods?

I've never owned a pet before.

Well, that's kind of a lie. My little sister (who actually isn't so little... she's like 5 inches taller and 5 inches blonder than I am) owned two pets: 1) a hamster named Abner, and 2) a gecko named alfonso... named after the brother of a drug dealer I knew in high school by the name (the real name, and maybe I shouldn't say this, but.. what the hell) of Love Lester. Both Abner and Alfonso died within a short amount of time and both times my mother and father made me tell my little sis that her dear pets died... except I am not the kind of person who can keep a straight face about anything. So as I told her that they had died, I laughed. And she thought I was kidding, but then I showed her the dead pets and she cried and I cried because I am incredibly insensitive.

So... I've never owned a pet before. No dogs, cats, iguanas, ferrets, what have you...

My question is: Do dogs (or any pet really) get their period???

Please! Enlighten me with stories about dogs on the rag.

Roommates and What They Shriek

"Don't sprinkle that on me!"
-JR, in her sleep, last night.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Apple Picking

Keren Veisblatt went apple picking this past weekend. I know... you may be thinking: what? Keren picking apples? Nooooo. She's so Philly. She's so city. She's so.....flyyy. But hear ya, hear ya (not here ye): Apple picking has been an urban sport since the time of the ancient Romans. Not only was it a sport of great intensity and excitement, but it also begun Christianity.

I know a whole lot about Roman history, and therefore I know a lot about Paganism and Christianity, which are pretty much the same thing, but some of the figures in Paganism have wings. So basically, this is how it goes: Plinius, the younger, wrote the following about the sport of apple picking in the city of Rome. Because he says it better than I can, I'll quote:

"Ais te adductum litteris, quas, exigenti tibi, de morte avunculi mei scripsi, cupere cognoscere, quos ego Miseni relictus (id enim ingressus abruperam) non solum metus verum etiam casus pertulerim.

'Quamquam animus meminisse horret, ...incipiam.'

Profecto avunculo, ipse reliquum tempus studiis (ideo enim remanseram) impendi; mox balineum cena somnus inquietus et brevis. Praecesserat per multos dies tremor terrae, minus formidolosus quia Campaniae solitus; illa vero nocte ita invaluit, ut non moveri omnia sed verti crederentur."

And therefore, because all the whores in the stadium rushed the trees, picked the apples, and threw them at all the gallant, dominating, pig-headed, Women-hating, rapist-like gladiators, the Bible now says that it was the Woman--Eve-- who picked the apple.

Anyway, the point of all this is: Keren Veisblatt went apple picking, and THAT'S OKAY!

Apparently she wasn't that successful at it... only two of them even look like apples.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Isabel Archer


The previous post, however true, was a bit forward. With the sympathies of women at GW already having been acquired by that post, I'd like to begin this one by saying: I love men. I do. I love them, but only because I have extracted from men a few qualities. These qualities I have surrounded with a soft, but firm, cushioning, which has shoved the rest of what makes up men to a point past relevance. After which I have taken the separated qualites and exaggerated them for the purpose of redefining 'men.' Men, in my worldview, is now synonomous with 'penis.'

And for all you who may think this rude, I mean it not in that way. I mean all this with the most respectable intentions. I do not mean to spread the false opinion that I am a 'loose woman.' I am not. Quite the contrary, actually. By redefining Man as Penis, I have now protected myself from being falsely deceived into a relationship that posits itself as anything more than what my redefinition implies. Therefore saving me from trouble I need not.

I implore you (Women and Bottoms only), heed this advice.


It's a Rounds Thing.

Fanny Dooley loves cheese but hates Brie.
She loves coffee but hates Folger's, Dunkin Donuts, Starbucks.
She loves Maxwell House coffee though. (good til the last drop!)
Fanny Dooley loves Jess Speiser, but hates Steve Rounds.
She loves Keren Veisblatt, but hates Leah Webster. She really hates Leah.
Fanny Dooley. Fanny Dooley. Why do you hate me???

Steve, this Bud's for you. (but not you, Jess, because Fanny loves you.)

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Roommates and What They Do

"Onetime I had a roommate who was so mal-hygenic that my other roommates and I made a bet to see how long he would go without toilet paper before he finally bought some. (I pretty much moved out, and the other roommates had their own bathroom.)

21 days.
He went 21 days without any toilet paper. Once he grabbed napkins from J-Street and brought them to use. Once I saw some paper towels in there too. But no toilet paper for 3 weeks.


"My roommate creeps the SHIT out of me and talks/screams/cries/punches and even flirts with me in her sleep. She also tried to jump my man's bones... his ratbones..."

-He Who Must Not Be Named

"One time Kelly Finnegan had sex in my bed."


Pictures of Ducks.... just to reiterate.

Here are pictures of some really good ducks, showing you what they do.

Call for Roommate Gossip!

I have a great deal of experience with roommates. I will briefly enumerate a few of my roommate credentials:

First, I lived in a teeny house with two siblings until the age of three. And then we moved into a bigger house. But still, I had those three fabulous years of having a cradle in my room and a big brother with scary friends (who had bad gas) just across the hall at the top of the stairs.

Secondly, my freshman year I virtually moved in with my freshman boyfriend and his knife-throwing roommate with German heritage... it's turned me off to living with men... and really to associating myself with anyone who does live with men. I guess I really have no experience in dealing with men successfully, however, the purpose of this call for roommate problems/gossip is not so that I can give advice. (Real point follows momentarily)

Thirdly, a certain roommate who I will remained unnamed (and whose initials are A.B. and who comes from a not-so-foreign foreign country before she moved to NYC and now goes to Styveusent Town Dental to get her teeth cleaned) was a big problem, and I loved talking about her and all the drama she created.

Fourthly, the current situation, which I can't talk about except in vague, ambiguous generalities.

SO: I am calling for anyone who reads this (and I'm pretty sure I know everyone who reads this... and I think it's just Diego and a couple other of my stalkers... hey, stalkers! I know who you are. I stalk too!), Again: anyone who reads this, send me your roommate gossip! Send me your problems!

I won't guide you on how to deal with it, but I will post it on the blog.

I will post the problem (anonymously or un-anonymously) right here on "Ducks and What They Do" so that you may have a release and so that everyone, mainly me, can have some entertainment.




Tuesday, July 15, 2008


I generally assume that the 11 views are mostly my own (unless it knows when it's me, and doesn't count them) and also Diego. He's the only one who has confirmed that he's read the blog. 

The point is... maybe I should just use the blog to tell a lot of secrets that I have and haven't been able to tell anyone... because they're secrets. I'm a really good secret keeper though. (and for you HP people...I'm a hell of a lot better than P.P. aka W.T.)

So... here's the first secret. It may not be a big secret, but if you were family this would totally make your day. My confidence that my family doesn't listen or care enough to even spend time checking the internet for my presence there allows me to tell you all (Diego) that it was me! I took a fifty dollar bill from my mama's dresser. The whole family mercilessly teases my little sister about stealing the money (because she used to steal a lot of other things) and then putting it back. I actually took it and when the parents blamed my sister, I snuck back into their room and returned the fifty, making her look even more stupid.

The teasing has stopped, but the incident was a rather significant incident in our childhood. And it really summed up my sister's general childhood behavior for everyone in the family. We all consider her the rebel child who takes money because she feels entitled to it. No one will ever know its me because I do not do anything rebellious. Plus, I put it back.

So, maybe this is a lame post. But I don't really think lame posts matter for this blog, because it's called "Ducks and What They Do."

Allergic to Ducks?

No problem. Geese are pretty much the same thing. You can just use those instead.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Salt isn't Sugar

So lately my boss at work has been like poking fun at me, hassling me. I think it's because I'm the youngest waitress he has. But the other week we had a pregnant woman and her husband come in for breakfast. So I get their order and the woman orders french toast. I get their order and I bring it out to them. A little later I check on them. And I noticed there was more than half left. So I asked her, I was just like, 'did you not like your french toast?' or 'was there something wrong with the french toast?'. So then she tells me, 'well, I thought it might be just my hormones, but this french toast tastes really salty' and I wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying until I heard the word salty and I was like, 'hunh?'. Her husband had tried them too and he said they were really salty. So, I go to find my boss and I run around looking for him, calling his phone. And finally he comes back to the restaurant and I told him what was up. And so he goes back to remake the french toast. The whole time he's like 'that doesn't make sense.' And then he tells me, he whispers, 'I think I was using salt instead of sugar.' So I take out the new plate and she tastes it and it was good. My boss went out and told them, and it turns out he's been making french toast for the past couple weeks now with salt instead of sugar.

Geese aren't Ducks

So I was driving home from the zoo with my family. My Aunt Mary was driving and next to her in the front seat was my cousin Gillian and me and my cousin Andrea were sitting in the back. We were driving home from the zoo and we were on a fairly busy road. And all these cars were slowed down and stopped. And we saw that like they were stopped because a big family of geese were crossing the road. While we were waiting my Aunt Mary got all excited and said 'we're waiting because of the little ducks.' She said 'Look! look at the little ducks!' My cousins got excited too, and I was the only one who knew they weren't ducks. Because they were geese. But I didn't say anything.

Pictures of Ducks

Here are some really good ducks in pictures showing you what they do.