for Cindy Wool

it happened again.

i woke up from my benadryl induced nap seven minutes ago and i think i had better eat some cereal. my body went into full on red, rashy, puffy grossness after a cyclocross race outside of boulder this afternoon. i took off all of my clothes to take a shower when we had finally returned to denver and i now wish i had taken a photograph because my whole body looked as if it had been colonized (colin-ized :) by the "red plague" (see also, "red mung").

bonfire of the vanity fairs, trading a rolex for an atladl, and norman, tricia, and grandparents.

denver museum of art with a cossje van bruggen and claes oldenburg.

post-theatre cocktails and treats, one of the waiters was persuaded to eat ice cream with us.

more ice cream, this time made by a three foot seven man who toils away on the top floor of this giant milk pail. waking up early, drinking bailey's, and making ice cream. that's how he does it, three hundred and twenty five days out of the plutonian year.

breakfast (pancakes, eggs, and syrup) with cindy and tara.

"the timeless art of sedution"

the gray foxes were frolicking over all of the bread. red-staurant.

i may or may not have been in last place in this race. i actually do not think that i was, but it certainly did not go well. i will blame poor performance on the fact that i was pre-occupied with looking good for the camera, as my friend bryce was shooting away throughout the race. "oh, there's bryce at the sand pit...okay, look euro look euro, pretend you're not working hard...don't breathe through your mouth. wipe the vomit off your lower lip."





:) - insert name (verb) here.


eric moore - "...i strive to one day be a dave towle "rider of the apocalypse"."

"i'd ask for a sharpie and a bucket of ice"

i just overheard this conversation in the library. i was sitting in a corner using the library's internet to watch "frida" for my art history class, and much to my chagrin these pseudo-athletic business school fuckers sat beside me...and started discussing pressing matters (camel toe, facebook, why bitches ain't shit, and "fucking, fuck, ass, whore"[their 'bro vernacular']).

"i got better things to do than vote for his ass" [his ass a reference to barack obama's ass]

"yea, son that's why i didn't register to vote"

"word"

...not sad necessarily because they're under the age of thirty and they don't want to vote for barack obama, but because they don't want to vote. what the fuck. if i was the bitchy, supercilious kid at the coffee shop that writes in his journal, i would say kids at du for the most part are big douche bags (edit: 16% of them). most of them (60%) are majoring in business, most of them (50%) are uninterested in actually learning, and most of them (80%) spend their time working in groups...getting their work done "together". too often i find myself unable to tolerate my fellow classmates, and this is a vent because i was sorely tempted, while i was trying to watch this film, to turn around and ask them to please shut the fuck up.

wet jigsaw puzzles, the arctic tundra, and my spanish uncle.

i just bought a three pound bag of haribo gummy bears from cost plus world market. i've noticed that you can get a five pound bag if you order them from this link provided at their website, but this is the biggest quantity you can get at cost plus. lloyd braun told me about them. is it just me or is that a lot of gummy bears? that's a lot of gummy bears! the plan? lay them out on a tarp in my room for three weeks and have the miserably dry denver air suck all of the water content out of them. once their hard enough to break teeth they'll be ready for consumption...at the cinema, on twenty-five mile per hour cycle rides, in the library where i am right now, at candlelit dinners with tito and eric, and of course in my [honda] cervix.

man is born alone, and he should celebrate that day alone...in somber isolation.

before leaving tucson i covered myself in sweat and visited a famous astronomical observatory called kitt peak.


i moved in to a new apartment with "tito" (taylor), a genetically modified human from the future who lives sometimes in brekenridge, colorado. "oh, yeah my friend races for this team garmin-chipotle that finished fourth at the tour de france and you know its no big deal sometimes i train with him and jonathan vaugters, but um you know its like they pay him to ride for them but its not a big deal..."


i started taking classes in the disciplines of archaeology, human nature, art history, and electro-jazz funk.


the japanese stole my idea for an elevator to space. i recently discovered that this is popular science's idea.


i visited the freemasons temple with eric moore and found nicholas cage hiding in the catacombs.



i received a new cyclocross bike after my old one was whored out to some serial killing berk by ben quinn.


i raced my new cyclocross bike.


i went to see sigur ros play...


...with that asshole ben quinn.


i drew some pictures.



this is why you should not try to run a marathon and generally why running is "dumb".

I WON I WON I WON.

time trial this weekend up mount lemmon.