Archive for November 18th, 2009

NSFW November: Paige Young, Miss November 1968

November 18, 2009


Photographed by Peter Gowland

“Painting for a living is a struggle. I have to work at it, but at least my time is my own and I’m working for myself — not for some impersonal corporation.”


About the only trend that leaves her cold is pop [art]: “It’s real and it says something about today’s culture — but I wouldn’t waste my paint on it. I can do without the pop scene in general; it gives me a headache.”


No fan of the far-out fads and plastic pleasures that abound in California, Miss November prefers such traditional alfresco activities as invigorating romps along the shore and peaceful strolls through the woods.


“If people would just sit down and really talk to, instead of at, each other, I’m sure they’d be a lot happier” (“Like Young,” Playboy, November 1968).

Not your usual playmate — besides eloquently hating on corporations and discussing her love of Whitman and Thoreau, Ms. Young also stated in her data sheet that, though she was well-known among her friends for her gourmet cooking, her real ambition was to be a successful painter, and that she hoped to one day study in Paris.

From her data sheet:

MY FRIENDS KNOW:
I’m creative, intense, ambitious, perceptive, uninhibited and very natural.

MY WEAK SPOT:
My desire to be alone. It’s probably selfish.

Paige Young killed herself with an overdose of sleeping pills July 13, 1974. She was thirty years old.

Music Moment: “Another Believer,” by Rufus Wainwright

November 18, 2009

I have so much to say about Rufus and his amazing family (except for that bastard Loudon) that there is simply not time today. Instead, I want to focus on the joyful fun of this song, which was written for the soundtrack to Meet the Robinsons (2007).

Rufus Wainwright – Another Believer

It’s been a very, very long time since I kissed anyone, but I suspect it is like riding a bicycle. Not in that you never forget how, but in that you have to go for it or you will tip over and crash. I am not interested in testing that theory just yet, but it is good just to know there is love and romance thriving in the universe.


Hello, I got something to tell you
But it’s crazy, I got something to show you
So give me just one more chance, one more glance
And I will make of you another believer

Guess what?
You got more than you bargained
Ain’t it crazy?
You got more than you paid for
So give me just one more chance, one more glance
One more hand to hold

You’ve been on my mind, though it may seem I’m fooling
Wasting so much time, though it may seem I’m fooling

What are we gonna do?
What are we gonna do about it?

So then, that is all for the moment
Until next time, until then, do not worry
And give me just one more chance, one more glance
And I will make of you, yeah I’m gonna make of you another believer

You’ve been on my mind, though it may seem I’m fooling
Wasting so much time, thought it may seem I’m fooling

What are we gonna do?
What are we gonna do about it?

Hello, I got something to tell you
Hello, I got something to tell you
You’ve been on my mind, wasting so much time.


kisses are a better fate
than wisdom. — E.E. Cummings


The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story. It changes the relationship of two people much more strongly than even the final surrender; because this kiss already has within it that surrender. — Emil Ludwig


Never a lip is curved with pain
That can’t be kissed into smile again. — Bret Harte


A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years. — Rupert Brooke


Ancient lovers believed a kiss would literally unite their souls, because the spirit was said to be carried in one’s breath. — Eve Glicksman


Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves. — Albert Einstein

Recently Liberated Space

November 18, 2009

I’ve still been liberating negative space lately, but I’ve been strangely upbeat and almost flower-childlike about the messages. Recently I was in two dreary, dreadful places where I thought the employees and other bathroom-goers could use some sunshine.

First, the Staples in C-town:

We were in Staples to have them make table signs for the wedding and every single employee looked so unbelievably miserable to be there that it was mind-blowing. There was not a happy camper to be found. They drifted like ghosts, avoiding eye contact with customers and, to a man, wearing a forlorn expression. I don’t know what gives, but that is one bleak joint, I’m serious.

A second place that needed a little liberation was most certainly the DMV:

They had little tiny tiles up in the bathroom to maybe discourage graffiti?, I’m not sure, but I didn’t let it deter me. The parade of human misery and frustration that tromps through that place must have the walls dripping with depressed psychic energy. Hopefully this cheered up whoever came in next.

That’s all for now, because I keep forgetting my camera when I leave the house.

Daily Batman: Best picture ever

November 18, 2009

Topless Claudia Schiffer in Catwoman mask by Mario Testino for German Vogue (June, 2008).

Winner winner, chicken dinner! I said goddamn, Claudia Schiffer. Haters to the left.

Internet, I am going to let you knock off early and go home for the rest of the day, because you have truly outdone yourself. Great hustle.

I believe in yesterday

November 18, 2009

So, I went to the mall with Miss D yesterday to check out the new H&M store. The women’s stuff was all fine and good, some cute things I guess although nothing unmissable, but I struck awesome gold in the little boys’ department: scored two totally pimp Star Wars sweatshirts. One is a zip-up hoodie and the other is a purple pullover with Yoda on it. Freaking sweet as heck!

There were fantastic Star Wars t-shirts, too, but I was already over the spending limit I’d mentally set for myself. Still, looking at the sweatshirts? Totally worth it, and Miss D got this pretty necklace that looks like cranberries at the store next door to H&M, while kidlet snagged a hot pink headband with a bow that is pure Madonna circa 1985. So a great haul was yielded by all!

I was right about the first Diana roll sucking. The pictures came out horribly. I mean, just the absolute Suck. Only like three even printed. It’s my fault because I am so heedlessly impatient and thoughtless that I didn’t take the time to get it right before snapping away in the heat of the moment. I need to work on this, but I will not let it get me down. Hopefully my next roll will come out better.

In the evening, we had a small pre-Friend Thanksgiving with Christo since he will be gone on real Friend Thanksgiving. It was really great; we went around the table saying what we were thankful for. I was thankful to be home, and put the period right there. Then I jetted to Panda’s and whisked her off to the pub cause she had had a motherfucker of a day, like with dead pets and everything, it was horrible. We met up with Jonohs (who had new guylights — between him and Panda going blonde, I am beginning to feel totally untransformed!) and sort of did trivia, but mainly Panda and I focused on beer and chat.

All in all, it was a surprisingly full day, and I did a lot more driving on city streets than I normally care to, but a really excellent day. What I said at dinner, I meant. Days like yesterday, both the good and bad, can take my breath away with how fortunate I am to be in a place I think of as home, to be with my friends and family. I’m ridiculously lucky.

NSFW November: Holly Witt, Miss November 1995

November 18, 2009

I’ll be honest: Miss November 1995, Holly Witt, mainly bores the crap out of me, and I feel like Playboy did not put their best effort forward with this pictorial’s disjointed themes, nor did they demand enough of the model.


Photography by Arny Freytag and Stephen Wayda
I just feel like this shoot could have been done better. I’m surprised Arny Freytag was involved. Possibly he only did the centerfold and this Wayda character did the rest.

The kiddie pool picture is actually pretty good. And the one below of her in the salon chair with her hand to her head is okay. But the rest come off wooden to me and look like something from a much cheaper magazine. It’s a shame that they let her get away with just doing the kind of arched back, pouty mouth thing, because I think she was capable of more. Some more stringently unusal or less stiff poses could have made the shoot kind of this interesting and erotic, challenging look at the trope of the slutty housewife: the set dressing and pastel but somehow lurid, vivid colors would have worked great with that.

Instead, because she was allowed to go with Porn 101 posing of chipmunk face and out-thrust breasts (not that there is anything wrong with that pose in its appropriate context), the shoot just falls in to pornographic fantasy pictures instead of doing the more dynamic and interesting thing by elevating it a level further and erotically, cleverly referring to that genre, rather than crassly being it. Does this make sense?

Anyway, fuck this shoot. The rest of the text is going to be quotes from an interview that also ran in this issue by contributing editor Lawrence Gobel with none other than superbomb flyass mothafucka Mr. Harvey Keitel.


PLAYBOY: You must be aware of how people react to you. You’ve developed a reputation as a powerful actor willing to dare exposure.
KEITEL: I’m smiling now as you say dare. I mean, that’s what I do. I don’t know what to say, except that it comes naturally to me. You want to call it daring? OK. I look at it as being.



KEITEL: Here’s a man who is doing the job of a pimp and a girl who is working as a prostitute. It’s monstrous, it’s horrible. But that wasn’t my approach to it. My approach was as a working man. Often, pimps are brilliant people caught up in life’s misfortunes. It’s like this whole debate going on about the welfare system: Is it the fault of the poor or of their circumstances? I believe a great deal of it has to do with their circumstances, not just because they are irresponsible.


PLAYBOY: How could Reservoir Dogs have gone further?
KEITEL: Perhaps there was some way to make the universal quest more obvious to an audience.

PLAYBOY: You may have a point—most people saw it as a violent movie, not one of some Arthurian quest.
KEITEL: I never saw it as a violent film. … I see it more as a story about a man who is in need of nourishing a younger man, of being a father figure, of being an example. It’s a quest we’re all on.

You can read the full interview here, which I strongly recommend because Keitel mercilessly fucks with Gobel the entire time; he is enigmatic and a dick and just all-around brooking no publicity machine bullshit. He is the consummate Man. I love him so well.

In closing and to bring it back to the subject of this entry, I will merely add that if you are on a date with the lovely and talented Ms. Witt and are thinking of impressing her with a story about Pythagoras or Fermat, shut your piehole, because she lists among her turn-offs “math and history.” Awesome.

Advice and Happy Wednesday!

November 18, 2009

I don’t have the time today to make it a true Wednesday Wednesday, but here’s a little Miss Addams in your life, both literal and reminiscent, and also some really cool wisdom from great sources about two simple, harmonious, earth-friendly pleasures for which we can thank each other: reading and bicycling.


The bicycle, the bicycle surely, should always be the vehicle of novelists and poets. — Christopher Morley

It is curious that with the advent of the automobile and the airplane, the bicycle is still with us. Perhaps people like the world they can see from a bike, or the air they breathe when they’re out on a bike. Or they like the bicycle’s simplicity and the precision with which it is made. Or because they like the feeling of being able to hurtle through air one minute, and saunter through a park the next, without leaving behind clouds of choking exhaust, without leaving behind so much as a footstep. — Gurdon S. Leete


Every man who knows how to read has it in his power to magnify himself, to multiply the ways in which he exists, to make his life full, significant and interesting. — Aldous Huxley


We read to know we are not alone. — C.S. Lewis


Schoolgirl IV Reading by x-Autopsie on deviantart.

I used to walk to school with my nose buried in a book. — Coolio