I was standing outside on campus with a group of ladies when a girl wearing a black windbreaker, black jeans, and three-inch gold stilettos walked by. One lady said, "That is not a good look for her." Another joked that the girl got her clothes from Whores 'R Us. I was offended because I shop at Whores 'R Us and they would never carry three-inch gold stilettos. Any heel less than five inches is for virgins.

Yvan Rodic

The expression on this woman's face is incredible. (Click to enlarge for full effect.)

Untitled (Man in Blue Suit) by Jamel Shabazz

Today I visited the Posing Beauty in African American Culture exhibition at the Art Gallery of Hamilton. While I was there, a middle-aged, white woman was guiding a group of women--who were also middle-aged and white--through the exhibition. The group stopped at a photograph by Jamel Shabazz entitled Drama and Flava from Back in the Days (2000); the tour guide explained, "'Flava' means style." "And attitude!" someone added.

S sent me a text message last night informing me that her friend is Britney Spears' third cousin, and that Britney visited Hamilton during her "psychotic episode." Well, that makes sense, doesn't it? Who in their right mind would retreat to Hamilton for respite if they could go anywhere else in the world?

Have you been feeling uncomfortably virtuous or prudish lately? Slutever is your cure.

Another questionable humanitarian project

One of my roommates has anonymously posted a number of signs on the kitchen wall over the course of the year that pertain to maintaining the cleanliness of the kitchen. It is clear that his standards have not yet been met, as I noticed yet another new sign this evening on the door under the sink that reiterates the same message as the earlier ones. This is what the kitchen looked like when I came home:

I decided that my anonymous roommate needed some help. He needed more aggressive signs that would shock one's senses to the point of provoking a personal transformation in one's habits and conceptions of cleanliness. This is what the kitchen looks like now:

I'm wondering if my anonymous roommate will reveal his identity to me when he sees my work so that he can thank me and ask if we can be best friends, or if he'll think I'm mocking him and will contemplate ways to get me evicted. I suppose I'll only know when the sober morrow arrives...

EDIT: Sober writing analysis has led me to conclude that the original signs were in fact written by two different roommates. It doesn't even matter, though--neither have asked to be my best friend. Whatever.

- "Why are you jaywalking?"

- "I'm just trying to create memories."