"Don Juan's Reckless Daughter"

Sat, 30 Apr 2005 23:22:12 GMT

Hey all.

For various reasons, this journal is now officially going "Friends Only". If you read and enjoy this journal and you're not too scary (also helps if I actually know you . . .), then just post a comment and I will add you.

-Blake

"Don't make me close one more door . . ."

Fri, 22 Apr 2005 01:36:05 GMT

don't know what to really report from LA. things are good and fine, and most calamities have been solved. i am no longer questioning the paths of my life. sorry des for the offense. i was just high on crystal meth. (kidding! . . . actually it's true . . . not true . . true).

ANYway. the weather is gorgeous. I watched Cronenberg's "Crash" last night (a movie about people who have a fetish for car accidents). I have never seen a movie that was both so shocking and yet SO BORING.

my birthday is coming up. as part of my present, I brought the following DVDs:

Romi and Mitchell's High School Reunion
Desperate Living
The Piano Teacher
B.A.P.S.
Kill Bill 1.
Kill Bill 2.
Mean Girls

those should provide with many a stoned night at home with food. (as there really is nothing better).

I saw the new Todd Solodnz movie, 'Palindromes'. it was AMAAAAAAZING. You all must see it.

I have to take my brother now to see the new Amityville Horror.

hmm. this was a real movie entry. fitting seeing as i am back here.

-Blake

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DES!

Tue, 19 Apr 2005 07:52:24 GMT

Wherever you are, I hope you read this. I've been trying to call but to no avail.

-blake

KRAAAAAACOWWWW

Sun, 17 Apr 2005 22:02:48 GMT

what is the meaning of stability? is it essentially a phase of normality and where no events happen? can one be stable and have events happen? can ties happen and relationship and gore and sex and insects and countries and planes and realms of past beings and future desires still go on?

or does stablity end this?

i'm back in los angeles. i am very comforted being back here and all . . . but also itching. i am very logically have my heart destroyed. therotically. physically. mentally. i'm puliing out the left side of my brain, pulling out my heart and guts and slamming my left brain into my chest and sewing it all up with . . . errrr .....

I almost didn't get let into the country. some outdated format on my greencard. they took me to a holding pen. they searched my things and person, questioned me, asked me if "i've ever been to the united states before" and waas finally let in after scolding. i might as well been a rat. or a black red indian muslim jewish terroist child hungry for food in the Kansas plains. kind of wished i was. they wouldn't want me in here either way.

i found some songs i've been looking for. i found some ideas i've been waiting for.

and i'm scared i've invested myself in all the wrong places. i've put all my energies in the wrong people and places and ideas. and there are thousands of alternative lives I should have been leading. and at least 5 of them would have been more productive than this one.

maybe my whole last year has just been a wrong way. a one-way street. but then that makes last year a detour, the year before 'under construction', the year before 'slippery when wet', and the year before a vicious and lethal acident, 18 car pile up and bodies and people bleeding and fucking . . . ala 'Crash'.

it all started then. and i can't escape it.

when i was 4 years old, i used to have dreams where i was watching a race track and cars going round and round the circuit, and each time the sound of their engines became louder and louder. it hurt my brian, gave me migrains. the sound actually became my thoughts and my brain the car engine and it all fucking hurt like anything else.

maybe that's when it all started as well.

it's ok though . . . it's not like I've trusted anyone fully . . . ever.

-Blake

WILD IBIZA (or alternatly entitled: How going to Ibiza in April SUCKS MY ASSHOLE)

Thu, 14 Apr 2005 01:06:35 GMT

ok. so yes. back from spain now.

Ibiza . . . Ibiza is beautiful..... winding charismatic walkways and cobbled paths take you centuries back in time and beyond, vibrant color and liberty compelling and pulling at you with every turn, the wide blue and sparkling ocean bare azure blue for all to see.....

It is also . . . in the month of April . . . THE MOST BORING AND RETARDED PIECE OF DIRT ON THIS PLANET.

Yes. I know. "But what about CRAZY and WILD Ibiza I hear about? Super clubs and drugs and drag queens and floors filled with foam as far at the plucked eye can see""

Yes. Well there's NONE of that if you go to Ibiza in these months: September, October, November, December, Janurary, Feburary, March, APRIL, and May,

Because the SUMMER season is: June, July, August.

SHOULD I have researched this better?

Yes. I am a retard. Yes. I know.

but . . . I did have a lovely time with Jonathan, who made the trip something really special to me.

We got there Thursday night and thinks seemed nice and cool and calm (later translates to boring). Went to a lovely Indian resturant and the such. Checked into to our very reasonably priced apartment at the glamourous LUX MAR (which was actual a shit shit shit-hole). Slept. Woke to explore the beauty of the Dalt Villa and the like. Then were ready to PARTY IT UP BIG TIME.

We went to the caller de la Virgin, where all the gay bars are. They were open, but only a few grumpy old German occupied them (BECAUSE IBIZA IS OFF SEASON) and then went Pacha, the only club open on the island (BECAUSE IBIZA IS OFF SEASON) where it was sort of chic but small due to the fact that only one of the 7 rooms was open (BECAUSE IBIZA IS OFF SEASON).

We chatted with a very pretenious french man about the death of paris. we brought co-ca-e-na. got BORED and went home.

The next day, we further explored Ibiza town. Beauty. Beauty. Got fake sun tans at a Solarium. Then did a bunch of our white devil and got ready for another SPECTACULAR night out on the town (Pacha)... which this time had TWO (yes, TWO!) rooms open, but still was just as boring and troggy. Went home. Had a mutual break-down. Slept.

the next three days consisted of us finishing the white gold and alternativing with sangria and ephedrin (legal in Spain), fanatically watching German MTV music videos/SMS commericals and footage of Prince Charle's and Camila's wedding, crying, having sex, being close and cold.

OH another reason why IBIZA SUCKS in APRIL: It's NOT HOT. IT's COLD. COOOOLD.

COLDER than Terri Shiavo's pussy.

COLDER than the Pope's asshole.

And speaking of coldness- can we talk about the people there? How is it that the people in Barcelona are so nice and yet the people in Ibiza are so RUDE and MEAN and COLD? Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude.

Well despite this endless boredom and coldness and RUDENESS, Jonthan kept me very warm and I do feel closer to him than anyone I've ever been with romatically. He is now in Barcelona and I already miss him desperately. (Schnappi: I am pregnant with your Love. Angel. Music. Baby.)

I'm in London now. In the morning I fly to LA for a much needed three week break. Of this I am very excited.

Bye bye Europa.

-Blake

Thu, 07 Apr 2005 09:55:58 GMT

OFF TO IBIZA!

BYE!!!!

-Blake

"Get me out of this crazy LAUGH FACTORY"

Sat, 02 Apr 2005 15:18:35 GMT

This week has been amazing.

Jonathan's friend Laura came and we all had a fantastic week together filled with top notch luxury resturants, taxi cabs, and shopping.... shopping.... shopping. Laura has the means and know-how of how to have a really good extravagant time... and I felt whisked away to a lifestyle I could only dream of.

On Monday, we all went to Orrey, a fancy pance French resturant. Then went out to Heaven and danced for a bit and wathced Laura get pawed by a straight man in a red shirt.

On Tuesday, I finally got around to mailing my script to the Princess Grace foundation. Then we went shopping in New and Old Bond Street. Jonathan got blue sandals at D & G. That night, we went to Asia de Cuba- a fantasitc and über chic resturant of havanna/asian mix.

On Wendesday, we had an expensive lunch at Hotel Bently's, and indulged in a day of sauna and massage. We went into a Turkish bath type room for a while and sweated, into saunas and peticures, and 30 minute long massages. That night, we went to a very authentic and lovely Japanese place called Kiku. Jonathan and Laure got drunk on saki. We then headed over to my favorite bar here- the Friendly Society- got drunker. We then went to club Ghetto. Got drunker. Of course, that tired old queen Boy George was there yet again. He got in a water fight with two drunks bitches and we got alcohol spilled on us in the cross-fire. Jonathan and I exhanched massive hickies. Laura was wasted.

On Thursday, I had to stay home for a bit and finish my German translation. Then I met up with Jonathan and Laura and we returned to Bond street, and then onto another Japanese place called Benny Hahn. Jo, Laura's mother, complained the place was a "crazy laugh factory".

On Friday, we had a tasteful lunch at Harrods, shopped a bit. We to Gucci and Pucci. Made it to Carnaby street. Laura graciously got me a fab sweater and shirt. Wound up at an Italian place caleld Ciaccios. Got full. Went to Virgin. Got Pet Shop Boys cds. Went to Trash Palace, was repelled by the crowd. Returned to the Merriot on Park Lane, and drank Mai Tais and Sex on the Beaches at the bar. Said a teary good-bye to Laura, who is now off to Japan for the summer.

phew. Once again- a taste of luxury.

But still a little more hedionism, I think . . .

Tonight, we are off to Fabric to do drugs ala drugs, and hopefully come home and have sex on E.

Also, Joanthan and I have totally abandoned the idea of going to Scotland in favor of Ibiza. There, we have reserved a lovely hotel near the beach and will have the most debauched time ever.

um. so yeah.

you all hate me.

and you should.

i even hate me.

-Blake

Sat, 02 Apr 2005 00:12:50 GMT

First Terri Schiavo dies and now the Pope is croaking as well!

I feel like i'm being spoiled . . .

LIVE WITH THE MYSTERIOUS AND FAMOUS DESIREE AND BLAKE!!!!

Tue, 29 Mar 2005 21:04:15 GMT

OK. So yes, it is that time of year again- housing lottery time.

I, the fantastic Blake, and my partner in crime, the fabulous Desiree, are looking at the Andrews East B apartment. We would take the singles, and any two of you that want to double up could take the double room (which 35% of the sophomores must do this year!). We both will be Seniors, and will most likely get you guys in if you want to join our little caravan.

The apartment is in a central location and is gorgeous, comes with a kitchen, and a bathroom with a tub . . . and Desiree and I . . . who are fabulous AND famous. Did you not already know this??

Besides, do you REALLY want to live in Hill House???

When it comes to what type of people we'd like to live with, as Desiree says, "we prefer drag queens who free-base heroin and listen to electro music. but exceptions can be made... " . . . and that could mean YOU.

If you and a buddy are interested, post here. And when the lottery numbers are posted, we can work out some sort of tasty little deal.

-Blake (Your POSSIBLE Future Suitemate!)

"Nobody ever treated me kindly . . ."

Sun, 27 Mar 2005 17:54:39 GMT

Ugh. so many things. so many things.

On Wendesday, I went out dancing at Ghetto (as usual). Fun crowd. Boy George was once again there. He still was a rotten old queen. In the bathroom, two fags were arguing about wither he should die or not. I thought he should. Took a pill of E. Good quality. Guy kept coming up to me being like "ARE YOU IN A BAND? You look like you could be famous!" and then later came back again later and once again: "Are you sure you're not famous?? I'm straight so I'm not hitting on you, but you LOOK famous!" i lied I said I was in a band but that I was to keep it "on the downlow". He was like "ride the fame, man. Ride the fame . . ." I came home and watched "Little Shop of Horrors". You Have Never Seen This Movie Before, until you have seen it on E. I've had the sountrack stuck in my head for days.

On Thusday, I stayed at home and pined for my beloved. Smoked a lot of pot, watched Six Feet Under. Pined for my beloved some more.

On Friday, had lunch with David and his friends. Spent too much money. Went to the Friendly Society (MAJOR HIPSTER bar here). Came home. Watched Six Feet Under. Smoked pot. Pined for my beloved (seeing a pattern??)

On Saturday, did DRUGS DRUGS DRUGS with David's South African friends. Mostly with this fag from capetown named Nathan and his American friend named Monique (who looks like she is 20, but is actually 34, and was once married to a husband until he killed himself . . . intense). We did mushrooms all day long at South Keningston park. Ate and watched British 13 year old thugs beat up old women. Came home. Drank loads and loads of white wine. Raved on and on about how RUDE British people are, especially to us Commonwealthers. AND IT'S TRUE.

BECAUSE- HOW IS IT that some random bastard from Poland, who has NO connection to England, can live and work here and YET we Commonwealthers (South Africans, Canadians, Australians, and New Zealanders) are being kicked out, not let in, and SPAT on in the street? THEY HATE US!

ANYWAY, after that, and mad drug induced dancing to disco hits and Janis Joplin, we drank MORE wine and did lines of COKE and a pill of ECSTASY. YES- you heard me- we were all on mushrooms, coke, alcohol, and E . . . and it was so INTENSE. We wounded up at some rich fags place near Glouster Road were we watched him try on his collection of mink coats. I started to have a little couldn't session about everything, ran out of there to catch the last tube home, came home, scared the shit out of Jonathan by throwing myself at him in my crying, drug-ed up and messed up state, ate some chips, and went to sleep.

Had dreams that I was in jail, and my cellmate was Hello Kitty!.

Today, productive and detoxing. Went grocery shopping. Finished my play's formatting and sent it to Kinkos for printing.

Tomorrow, Jonathan will finally be free to bring me his love. His friend Laura is visiting, I'll give her love as well.

Oh, and in 2 weeks, were going to Scotland.

so yeah.

Happy Easter. Thank God Christ has returned to save our souls. Woo hooo!

-Blake

Heh- half of this is SO TRUE . . .

Thu, 24 Mar 2005 14:54:00 GMT

I feel like I'm so distressed! that bitter old queen robotripweeks gone and said that they saw me talking crap about catnamedlola. Don't let me hear about that again or and I'm gonna tear off their head and s*** down their neck hole!

Oh and I went to gaming group with bruisemobile and rayndeigh Wednesday but moneypenny is getting favors from the game master. That ruined my day!

This entry automatically generated by the LJ Drama Generator!

Tue, 22 Mar 2005 22:47:10 GMT

i went to the fridge. and there were a thousand dead bodies inside. and then i choaked on them because suddenly the fridge was my tongue and it was open and the bodies were all falling down my throat. they animate.... they are animated....Poltergeist characters still waiting for Dominique Dunn to come running and screaming . . . but she's not... because she's dead as well..... dead and buried with Heather O'Rourke, in a small little lesbo coffin were they spend all of eternity eating each other's pussy.

Watch out for the curse!

Maybe i am cursed now. "and someday he will live to regret me." and why does Aimee Mann have to have so many double letter her name? and why am I so confused by the fact that my golden pound coins live next to my poppers and my lighter and my half eaten bar of Frosties milk bar in a way that is so peaceful and content?

I just realized I had the power to kill myself.... lighter and poppers....BOOM. i mean that in the least threatening way. in a funny way, not Kathy Bates in Misery "I have this gun . . . maybe I'll put two bullets in it" kind of way. because how amazing would it be to really die like that? to have on your tombstone "He loved poppers . . ."

i did my experimental performance tonight. my chest is still red and sore. and i've got the pictures to prove it now. it's part of our documentation. it went well. large crowd. large suffering.

ugh and just BE my boyfriend already. that way in a week, I'll have something concrete coming back to me. i don't know why i feel like i need that. today i was talking to someone, and I had a murderous urge to call you that to them. even though it's ridiculous and this has only barely been a week. maybe three months of friendship can be boiled down to at least 1 and half months of relationship? i'm full of shit.

i'm really more concerned with what you will be come Monday . . . because I'm a Futurist, always have been, always will be. no future = no past. no past + no future = no present.

you are my landmine right now. I mean that in the best ways I can.

because I don't remember the last time I let someone so completely inside my life and not been terrified of them. can't we just do drugs and stay in bed and watch horror movies and fuck and laugh forever? we'll ship the bed places . . . to Iceland, to Myanmar, to Ibiza, to . . . you name it .. .

ok. well time to carry on my night. i'll probably just get high and watch some random media/movie/thing . . . like everynight. i just want to BE Joni Mitchell... but hooked up to a computer constantly. i want it to be my IV bag. microchipped blood running all over.

"no hearts of gold, or nerves of steel . . . no pain for for what we can and cannot feel . . ."

,,,,,,

the next few days are gonna be . . . intense.

-Blake

"see what you're doing to me . . .?"

Sun, 20 Mar 2005 14:40:56 GMT

I'm going through a very intense process withone very close to me. I still don't feel like I can really talk about it. Sometimes it's quite amazing. And then others I get a horrible fear about it. But, that's typical Blake-e-ry at work, I think.

I feel like I should go away for the Easter break. But I dunno where? Manchester? Madagascar? The Moon?

My favorite Kate Bush song by far is definitely "Feel It". It's almost strange that it is because it's a total early piano ballard of hers, and I usually gravitate to her explosive and experimental later material. But this song is so amazing. It's both so loving and sexy and yet self-destructive. Everytime she hits the chorus, I just want to die. It makes me feel like I have a cathedral jammed down my lungs.

The semester is almost over. Only a week of real classes left here. I still do not quite know what my time here represents. Haven't carved away a meaning. Maybe I won't. But the weather has finally become spring here and it's warm and more closer to London I I used to visit in the summer. On Friday I went to Carnaby Street and shopped and took in all the Eurotrash superstars I could swallow. And I saw Buckingham Palace as well, because I have never actually done that in all my time here. It was sort of dissapointing... a little "oh, and where's the rollar coaster at?".... kinda of like Mt. Rushmore in the states (well not that bad, because Mt. Rushmore SUCKS my asshole).

I hate my play. I have a thousand different endings for it. Hate them all. So much of me wants something subtle and tight, yet other parts of me want something huge and mythic....something more like what this play represents to me rather than want an audience might want. I dunno.

Um so yeah. shit. fuck. shit. fuck. crap.

-blake

CRAZY NIGHT

Thu, 17 Mar 2005 17:13:39 GMT

Last night Jonathan and I got drunk and went to a club and met BOY GEORGE. He was very rude to us. Whatever, he's old and fat now. We also spent half of the night trying to persuade a man from Belgium to come home with us, smoked pot and played an African drum with some random guy on the night bus ride home, and other dubious and wicked activities.

Um so yeah. and Happy Saint Patrick's Day. Lick my ass- I'm Irish.

-Blake

Sun, 13 Mar 2005 23:20:02 GMT

After my car crash night on friday, i had quite the fun weekend. Yesturday I watched my drinking and went to club Motherfucker (not to be confused with the NY club of the same name.) There- Stinkmit and Gravy Train!!!! performed. Stinkmit was so fucking funny. One of their songs is about how one of the members of the band finally got her tubes tied because "she's so fucking sick of having abortions and babies". Gravy Train!!!! was godo as usual. They had recognized me a bit from Sarah Lawrence and I stuck around with them for a while after the show. On the bus right home I met and chatted and befriended this fabulous dyke named Sumay, who said she's gonna take me out to some fab dyke bars and clubs. She runs this huge site for lesbian dance ravers. How exciting! GOD how I wish I were born a dyke!!!

Today, I went down to Vauxhall and hanged out with David and some of his friends. We went across the street to the Royal Vauxhall Tavern and saw THE FUNNIEST FUCKING DRAG QUEEN ever perform a variety show. I don't think i have ever seen a more offense and rude and talented queen ever. Before the older shaved headed muscle queens arrived to dance to funky hosue for the rest of the night, I was out of there and back to David's apartment. We talked about international politics and gay generations gaps. Then i left and came back here.

All quite nice.

-blake

drunk and lost in london . . .

Sat, 12 Mar 2005 14:25:40 GMT

Last night one of the scariest things ever happened to me.

My Friday started out pretty fab. I went to the Tate Modern (SPECTACULAR) with Jarrad's friend David, who just moved here to London from South Africa. It was so strange being able to talk about Jarrad and to share so many experiences without someone whom i just met. The Tate Modern, as in the building, is so out of this world. It's so huge and dominating and fantastic. I find it so much more compelling than any art I could find within it. We went to an exhibit of Joseph Beuys' work. For those who don't know who that is, he was a modern German experimental installation artists. One of his pieces was a video of his piece "I Like America and America Likes Me". In it, he is flown to America wrapped in fat and felt, driven in an ambulance to a gallery, where he spends 3 days locked in a room with a coyote. He just interacts with the coyote for three days. It's supposed to be a dialogue on the modern Anglo dominating man and the oldest resident of America- i the Coyote (who was worshipped as a god by the Native Americans and now is seen as a dangerous pest). Another piece of his there was a room filled with traditional old bourgeoisie paintings next to shelves filled with rotting products from the DDR (former communist east germany). In another video art thing at the Tate, a mother brutally beats up her daughter in backwards motion. Fabulous!

Anyway, back to the horror. So i get home that night and it's raining a bit so I decide "oh I will just have a nice relaxing drink and stay home tonight. As I sip away at my rum and coke, I then start to think "hey, it's a FRIDAY NIGHT, I NEED TO GO OUT" (even though I had already been going out on both Wednesday AND Thursday nights, but we won't talk about that). So then I proceed to get dressed and drink more. I then decide to go out to this club called Popstarz, with liquor bottle in hand. In the line for the club, I drunk away and entertain cute and naive American tourists. In the club, I drink MORE and MORE and dance and go mad and.... and..... other things which now can't remember. At one point I was making out both with a guy from Montreal and an American from Georgia (what ever happened to them, I also don't remember.... they probably ditched me once they really saw how drunk i was). I really don't remember the last time I was so drunk absolutely by myself.

I then leave the club. I then proceed to first take the wrong bus, and then get off the wrong bus in a part of town I do not know AT ALL. It started raining. I was so drunk and scared and stumbling around, trying to read bus stop signs and ask people for help (how someone didn't rob and rape me at any point is really beyond me). It was so cold and I was so drunk and lost and terrified. It was sort of like Prodigy's video for "Smack My Bitch Up" where at one point the person is drunk and stumbling around london, so lost and everything is spinning like a ferris wheel. Eventually.....EVENTUALLY.... from the help of some other random drunk person from Slovakia (cheers to me for remembering that) I find the N25- the night bus to the East End. I wait FOREVER for this fucking bus. And then I finally get out and rip off all my clothes and pass out.

So many wonderful, horrible, scary, depressing, uplifting thoughts were rushing though my head last night. I now am very hung over and my liver actually hurts. I think I have developed liver cancer overnight. I am embarrassed and tortured about how utterly frightful the whole thing was.

. . .

. . .

. .

and tonight I will do it all over again.

fab.

-Blake

I Pledge Allegiance . . to the flag . . . of the United Soviet Republics . . .

Fri, 11 Mar 2005 01:35:19 GMT

It's it a tad twisted that my FAVORITE national anthem is the one for the Soviet Union?

Anyway I am a tad drunk right now because I am celebrating because I finally finished the first revision of my new play. It's finally reached "second draft". This probably means fuck all to most of you, but means a lot to me.

In other news, went on a really nice date with a guy from newcastle on tuesday. And a really bad date on sunday. Guess which one i am going to pursue?

I really want to be in LA. But when I'm in LA. I'll really want to be in Berlin. But when I'm in Berlin, I'll really want to be in NY. The moral of the story- doesn't matter where you are or who your with, there's ALWAYS something else to idealize.

I have made in reality zero friends here. Except for my amazing American friend, I have sort have failed my mission here to set up a base of fab friends here in London. It's all very horrible sometimes. But then again . . . what isn't?

If anyone considered me a real friend here- I love you and miss you. Lets get an apartment ANYWHERE in the world after this and live in some sort of bliss. Because anything else if just not as fab.

And anything else usually is the standard of life.

-blake

Mon, 07 Mar 2005 22:54:04 GMT

So the Coming Out Dance has been cancelled. I was really hoping they would wait to do this aftter I left SLC, but I guess not.

I guess this just forces me to take in a large ammount of alcohol and drugs and storm different kind of SLC events- such as the Vagina Monolouges, Midnight Breakfast, and Graduation.

My God- SLC will be the most boring place on earth. We may have saved the lives of a few first years, but hundreds of us will loose braincells due to passive BOREDOM!

-Blake

"with my books and my papers I went to the rocks by the ocean"

Sun, 06 Mar 2005 01:24:01 GMT

I know it's been awhile. Sometimes there is just really nothing to post here. Not that things of note haven't happened.

Just watched Showgirls for the millionth time. But everytime I watch it, I only become more and more enraptured in the drama and intense poignancy of it all. Elizabeth Berkley is the Meryl Streep of the 90s. Tis true.

This week I spent a good deal of it entertaining (in more ways than one) a German from Leipzig. I like to think of it as international relations really.

Last night I had one of the most intense drug experiences of my life at a club called Fiction.

I must get tickets to see "The House of Bernada Alba"- which is playing now at the Royal National Theatre. It's one of my favs. And also, for my final project in my "Beyond Acting" class- I am directed a scene from it. But I'm doing a sort of Richard Foreman/Pina Bausch method in which the actors are not allowed to show an emotion unless it has been physically made. This involved biting and kicking of actors, splashing water, fishbowls filled with maggots, and me in leather boots as Bernada Alba on stage. Both Meredith Monk and Glenda Jackson would be proud. Several girls excitedly signed up for my project, and have fantastically allowed themselves to respect my decisions (ie. i control them completely, my will is their doing). Yay for fascist directing.

SO I have completely decided that I am absolutely not going to grad school. there really is no point and I have no desire. I shouldn't wait to fend off the "real world" any longer. Nothing I want to do will really be improved by spending another few years in school. After SLC, I am just going to join an experimental performance company, get a job on the side, make music, and write more plays and pieces. Doesn't seem that bad. A little scary free-wheeling... but makes sense in a lot of ways. I'm applying for an internship at the Wooster Group in NY (an amazing performance group). I'm also applying for the Princess Grace playwriting residency. What do you guys think?

And now I have to go and read about the french feminist experimental performer Orlan- who for her art, underwent 10 different plastic surgeries in order to deform and transform her face into a third woman kind. Fab.

Sun, 27 Feb 2005 15:45:24 GMT

sometimes i wish i was a robot...milky white skin, no emotions, every move as precise as a surgeons blade.

Ein paar schöne Erinnerungen an Hamburg

Sun, 27 Feb 2005 15:32:57 GMT

yes. now i am back. and am quite drained.

hamburg is a very nice city (no berlin, but hey not all cities can be). when i first got there I was cold and wet and confused. then my host (who really spoke very little English and so I had to almost completely utilize my astounding german skills) let me into his kitschy but nice apartment. he had two cats (Lisa and Liza; Liza being the one I absolutely loved) which made sure I was constantly doped up on allergy medicene (i am beyond allergic to cats). when i first got to my host's place, it was suddenly very obvious that not only was there a language barrier, but that we really didn't know each other. heh very interesting indeed. but he was extremely nice and helpful.

that very night we went out (my kind of night.) we marched through the hamburgian snow to a club called "Kir". It was mostly pop but the occasional traditional german or electro song. there I got a little messy (as good old britney would say) and spent an hour talking (if you could call my german 'talking' in any way') to this German dyke about assholes (not the people, the orafices) and how in Germany if you don't look the person directly in the eye when saying cheers with them (Prost) then you are doomed to have seven years of bad sex.

the next day my host (his name was Nico, by the way) took me to see the sites of Hamburg (die Sehenwürdikeits). first he took me to the harbour and we went on an extremely boring boat tour of the hamburg's industrials docklands (not only was it boring because I could only barely understand the tour guide, but also I have never really had an affinity for big large metal ships- not matter how many crates are on them). after that Nico took me to the Rathaus (the main government building). it was quite beautiful and inhabited by Hamburg's gay mayor. then we went to the Altstadt (the older part of the city mostly untouched by WWII bombing) which didn't actually look that old. then we went to the main train station which was MASSIVE and where one can apparently get a blowjob for 20 euro in the southwest corner. then we went to St. Georg- the gay area, which also happens to be the prettiest area of Hamburg (no gay ghetto vibe there). we went to a charming queer coffeeshop and then came home and passed out for a few hours.

that night we went to a nice Japanese resturant (very surreal having little Japanese women running around speaking German) and had this fantastic delish korean dish. you cook slabs of sauced chicken right on your table and then roll it with leaves of lettuce and then eat it with your hands. amazing. anyway then we came home and drank champaigne and watched "A Beautiful Thing" dubbed in German (another very surreal expereince for me).

the next day I just lazed around the house. I felt i had seen enough of hamburg. but then that afternoon . . .

I did something VERY dubious. I don't want to talk about it right now (i will be able to in about a week), but if it proves true, then the dubious thing I did will be earning me a hell of a lot of money very soon. sorry to cliffhang you about this right now.

i came back home and watched TV. German MTV is so weird and funny and like U.S. MTV used to be like in the 80s when it was still good (weird cartoons and fantastic music videos only). I saw the video for one of my favorite songs ever- alter ego's rocker. you should watch it (you need quicktime). . .

here- http://www.video-c.co.uk/microshow.asp?vidref=alte001&FileType=ADSLstream

it's very weird and definitely represents my current lifestyle.

that night we went to a small and tacky but cozy/charming (gemütlich) club called Wunderbar. there I got drunk and danced with german fag hags, ate gummi bears, and got a blowjob in the bathroom from a guy named Stefan.

the next day, Nico and his best friend drove me to Lübeck, a smaller and prettier city outside Hamburg. we ate and shopped in the snow. then they took me to the airport. and now I am back in London.

phew.

-Blake

Endlich komme ich in Deutschland zurück an

Wed, 23 Feb 2005 21:40:09 GMT

After a painful plane and bus ride, I am finally in Hamburg. It is quite nice and my host is lovely. I can not type too much because I am on a German keyboard . . . but all is well and my German is improving already.

Jonathan- I am not dead. Nor do I think my host will lock me up in a closet.

-Blake

Fear and Loathing . . .

Mon, 21 Feb 2005 05:25:36 GMT

Hunter S. Thompson just died . . . he shot himself in the head:

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story2&u=/ap/20050221/ap_on_re_us/obit_thompson

Saw R.E.M. on saturday. The Kiwi called me saturday morning and was like "Kia ora. Got a spare free ticket to R.E.M. tonight. Wanna be my date?"

And they were good. Michael Stripe is as hot as always. But something about them reminds me way too much of my teenage years . . . and I definitely feel like I've sort of "moved past" their sound in my standards of music.

oh well. happens.

and Yes, I did blow a black man from Detroit in a bathroom of a club.

(insert comment here)
Yes, yes I know.

(insert comment here)
No. well I mean like sorta.

(insert comment here)
It only makes me a racist in the cultural athropological sense of the word.

(insert comment here)
twice. once on the toilet seat.

(insert comment here)
well. maybe it is a phase. or maybe I am a whore.

(insert comment here)
Blue. No actually brown. I don't remember.

I don't. I really don't.

-Blake

and the score goes up . . .

Sat, 19 Feb 2005 04:58:54 GMT

um. add to the whore o meter:

1 Black American from Detroit

-Blake

"This used to be our childhood dream . . ."

Fri, 18 Feb 2005 02:17:11 GMT

Jonathan is crazy. A few hours ago he decided thta he just had to go to Helsinki, Finland tomorrow . . . and so, he immeditely brought the ticket and hotel room and he's on his way. And I thought I was locationally rash.

Anyway. Not too much to report. Polishing up on my German for Hamburg. Thank god for the internet for the ability to meet people in a place before you get there. Why no one ever has to be lonely (or alone) again!

Fucked an Italian last night. Long story. No... actually short story....meet an Italian and went home with him and fucked him.

So let's see then, lets go back and recount and update Blake's Euro Whore-O-Meter:

Since I have been in UK, I have fucked:

1 American
1 Great Brit
1 Australian
1 New Zealander
1 Italian

Adding to a total of 5 international tricks.

Seeing as I have been here only about 6 weeks, that means I am at 90% on the Whore-O-Meter.

and on the Meter, 90% to 95% equals: WHORE of BABYLON!!

That's right. Perhaps by now, even my livejournal has an STD.

You better get tested before commenting on my entries, yes?

In other news . . . the Walls are both closing in and opening up.

the end.

-Blake

PS- Seeing CHICKS ON SPEED at Popstarz tomorrow night. A-MAZE-ING.