They Are 45. We Are;

caught some dude in one of the American Apparel fitting rooms today: jacking off with 2 thongs wrapped around his dick. LES baby

i work like 60 hours a week at the moment, i'm sorry nobody ever really sees me...


love
math+

1-bought a $5 bootleg dvd of Borat from a street vendor near work. watched it last night. excellent, crisp bootleg; also, one of the most boring movies i've ever seen. i expected it to, like, annoy me or something, but actually i just Did Not Care.

2- that thing about people buying only black clothing? yeah that was a computer glitch. i had to point it out, like, every hour for 3 days straight- 'are you SURE this is right? people are buying ONLY black clothes ALL the time?'- until finally the assistant manager decided that actually did seem a little odd for 3 whole days of sales. so she got the stock manager [basically my boss; also he's totally hot]- she got him to fix the computer glitch. then we printed out the list of clothing in other colors that had been sold in the past 3 days. it was a rather long list. i spent 16 hours pulling it from the stockroom, affixing it to hangers, and putting it out on the floor. at the moment it's 1:40am and i next have to be at work at 11.

so i haven't disappeared. i'm just hanging out in the rainbow and never even sleeping. if you buy an item of clothing from the LES American Apparel store in the next couple of days, there's an excellent chance that i put it there. that makes me feel good in a way that's hard to explain. participation in the city? participation in 2 cities. participation in all cities at all times, but you know how bad i crush on the number 2. anyway

3- Brilliant. Time Magazine's Person of the Year is -->

[even the cover picture is amazing]


love
math+

the job rocks. i'm working inside a fucking rainbow. colors everywhere. if you've ever been to an American Apparel store? imagine the fucking stock room for the biggest AA store in Nyc. there is no room for anything. i spend most of my day scampering behind boxes, crawling through shelves. and always to my front and left and right and anyplace, color color color. the labor is physically difficult at the moment because i'm really out of shape, but the experience is- yeah i guess i would call it 'wondrous'? all these colors bursting and shifting and overflowing and reaching toward me in this soft, soft way.

i never even thought about it as a job where nothing is breakable. there's the threat of tearing or especially staining something if you're careless- but, generally, you can shove all the merchandise around however and whenever you want. you can be its friend [or its dictator if you're into that kind of thing]. it yields to you in the most fundamental possible way, because it dreams of one thing only: your body.

the flipside is, i'm working 10+hour days consistently. before this started i was working exclusively from my laptop, always sitting down, and suddenly i'm doing long sessions of pretty intense physical labor. so: i get up; go to work where i feel amazing; come home exhausted but buzzing; try to eat something, sleep. making sure i really get my shit together before i go to California at Christmastime is going to be a challenge, for real, on this kind of schedule. but i peptalk myself. candoitcantoit

ok: where should i spend NYE? San Francisco? New York? L.A.? where is something happening? i have the fortune of being pretty mobile at precisely that time of year. has to be within the U S, though, because i'm waiting for my new passport.

if you don't see me online much, it's because i'm sleepy from working so much. but i'm having a really good time.


love
math+


ps: part of my job goes like this. every 15 minutes to an hour, i print out a sheet that shows what was sold, in the LES store, in the last 15 minutes or hour or whenever i last printed out this sheet. then i go through the stockroom and pick out the same items, exactly what was just sold, and take it all back to the floor. it's basically to make the sales floor just the same as it was before.

i wanted to work at American Apparel to crawl inside the rainbow. today, i worked from 11am to 9pm. during this time, literally, no matter what style, every item purchased at the Lower East Side American Apparel was black. i fixate on the idea of people entering a rainbow to buy something black, aka the absence of all color.

so i was at the Lower East Side American Apparel [Houston + Orchard], buying a couple bright-colored things to wear to tomorrow night's Butt Magazine book party. i was asking the cashier, like, seriously, how can i get a job at this company? i have been emailing my résumé to the Nyc hiring manager for weeks. i keep including pictures of me dressed in various American Apparel clothes. i have retail experience. what's the deal? do i have to fuck somebody?

and the clerk is laughing and saying no, it's just that their hiring process is so fucked up, i should just keep emailing that same hiring manager until something happens, but besides, why am i so set on working for American Apparel? surely i could find another job right?

and i'm saying well sure, but it's not like i'm desperate exactly, i get enough freelance work to 'put food on the table' or whatever, but i've really been craving a steady paycheck and all the shit that comes with a normal service job, like interacting with customers and befriending coworkers. but [and this is not how i phrase it], there is a degree to which my labor is sacred because my hands are sacred. if we're talking minimum wage-ish, i won't work for just anybody. i don't give a shit about the morality of ghostwriting because it's so financially lucrative. but if i'm gonna work for a large company, in one of their stores? they have to be special and stylish and Doing Good Things.

so i'm saying all this in flirty language and i am specifically saying 'i'm American, and i want to work for an American company, and there are only two American companies i really want to work for. one is Apple Computers and the other is American Apparel.'

at this point the store manager, named Michael, walks up to the desk. he introduces himself. he says, 'well, first thing, to work here is, you have to wear American Apparel from head to toe during every shift.'

'no problem,' i say. 'seriously, that's all i ever wear anyway.'

the next thing he wants to know is, can i start working there on Monday?

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


love
math+

divided by zero; well,
it doesn't have to.

when i imagine Michael Stipe as mine, he turns... aboriginal? divided and assembled like the rest, but begging for a coded shirt. it took me a long time to think of a proper symbol. it's sort of like a wheelbarrow and a railroad hand truck and maybe like a mine kart combined. 'i'd like it here if i could leave and see you from a long way, a way.'

the blurriest thing on his right arm, in the drawing, is the only thing that's really there in real life; a Krazy Kat tattoo in 2 or 3 small parts. one cartoon character throwing a brick at another. i remember Michael Stipe staring at the tattoo during the first live concert i ever saw, R.E.M. in SoCal's Inland Empire. at the time, i'd never seen anything so sexy in my life. i was like 13.

wheelbarrow's fallen;

Look at My Hands

large --> [1200x862]


love
math+

( Collapse )

16 desktop wallpapers / larger versions of my drawings: http://pleasureiseasy.info/free_art

a few samples [obviously they're much bigger at the link]:







some of the wallpapers at the link are not worksafe.


love
math+

to the folks at sketchgangbang. most of my art is at pleasureiseasy.info, or lj-feed pleasureiseasy. in particular there's tons at pleasureiseasy.info/drawn, but that's a big page that takes awhile to load. with only a couple exceptions, i use ink on paper. thanx for looking.


xo.
math+

( Collapse )


some stuff i want to do in other media one day.


xo.
math+

( Collapse )


luv
math+