Whatcha lookin’ at?

I love this cat. 

Miso, won’t do however. I only named him Miso last January when I though he was a she cat. I’ll change his name later when I make him my official domestic kitty. Right now he’s still a Tom who I feed when he comes around and shelter so he can sleep. 

My only panic now is the upcoming desert heat. I have to move us very soon into a pet friendly building. We have to be in our new home by end of May, before the desert heat really comes. Sorry boy, when you become momma’s indoor kitty snuggles that’s when your fury man bits get, you know, clipped.😢

We are two stray cats, him and me.

When the current story I’m working on is being directed by Sofia Coppola, you’ll see black and white photos of me and Miso in our small desert apartment under the ceiling fan writing the next script or rather book. And I’ll dedicate it to the homeless stray cat I found in the tree behind my apartment building back in January. Only I’ll have renamed him by then.

I’m so glad I found this stray tuxedo cat when I did. He’s really bad at catching birds. He might have starved.

He’s got skills

Regardless what you do for a living, the people in the trenches with you, the foot soldiers, the storm troopers, that’s your crew. They know what you’re going through. They know you. Fuck everyone else. Take care of each other. You and yours. 

When drama tries breaking up the band, unify and take that bitch DOWN. Hard. Drama knowingly puts herself in harms way. Straight to hell with that hag. No regrets. High school never ends. Someone, somewhere, will always feel bad about themselves and will do anything, no matter how senseless and destructive, to feel better. Take that bitch DOWN. 

And

Are we done making minorities instant victims? Are we done making their word the word of god? 

No? Ok just checking.

You do realize we’re minorities too. Idiots. Not a white person in these particular trenches, but since we can properly enunciate the word CROSSWALK we’re not minority enough it seems. America, the only place where people of color practically kill themselves to get to, but hate Americans.

The music for that scene where William Thatcher accepts being arrested for impersonating a Knight in the movie Knights Tale, was playing in my head while putting on my dark warrior eyeshadow for last night’s meeting. 😂

https://youtu.be/gNJ9laxsEm4

Old woman side boob. Ewwww. 

https://www.instagram.com/p/BvfSgQAAIl4

Hey Drama, Miso made a shadow puppet just for you. Suck it, bitch. 

That’s his actual shadow. I didn’t edit this at all. Still trying to figure out how he did it. 😂

LOYALTY

That’s the word you’re looking for. And tonight you’re going to find out just how strong it is. Particularly mine. 

Way to pick your battles, honey.😏

Little red Chevy Silverado 1500

Baby your you’re much too fast.

Stranger Things 3. I blame you Sergio. You’re the one who got me to start watching it. 

* We’re all watching THE DIRT on Netflix tomorrow right? *

Hey kids

Don’t put much thought into reading my blogs. My blatherings aren’t meant to change the colors of your world.  

Much like sex with me, reading my blogs can either pass the time quick and easy - or be horribly long, psychologically disturbing, and more abrasive than chewing a mouth full of sandpaper. Dry wit your way through. You’ll be fine. 

Oh and hey!

It seems I have finally hit puberty.😭 

https://www.instagram.com/p/BvQedf8ADui

Take THAT John Mulaney! I beat you to puberty! 

I put on my best grandma sweater and tried looking at least thirty. Success!! 

And

Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t KNOWINGLY look at women naked over the age of 50. If she’s 50 but looks 35, then LIE and say she’s 28! I finally saw on IG what real 50 year old women look like in their bras and... please put on a shirt. And then a sweater. And then another sweater. And then a coat. Gadzooks. 

I can’t knowingly see naked 50 year old women. I just can’t. No. NO. NOooooo!! Why aren’t you home baking cookies in a dress, heels, and faux pearls!!

Please don’t be naked and then inform my brain you’re 50 years old. I can’t hang. 

My brain shuts off. My eyes stop working. My vagina blindfolds itself. And I suddenly have the urge to commit massive amounts of arson.

MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF ARSON!!! 

And ok sure, HI-FIVE if you’re 50 years old and want to get your lady freak on, sometimes I do too, just don’t do it where anyone will accidentally see. 

Now 

50 year old men on the other hand

Match them up with 20 year old women and we’re good to go! 

I wish I could have sex with a 30-something year old guy but I just can’t. I can’t bring myself to do it. Not at 50 years of age. Ick. I didn’t like most thirty year old guys when I was thirty. Although I did marry someone my age, a year older than me, but I did that for my dad. I was one of those kids who did stuff to make my parents happy. I know, what a dick.

But now, especially at 50 years of age, I want a man my age or older. Preferably older. At least ten years older. I’m hard wired since kindergarten that the social norm is young wife/older husband. Alas men my age I’m attracted to are either gay or dating 18 year old women either for sex or to nurse them in a few years. Or both. I don’t blame ya. Lord knows I’m not gonna to do it. 

Why do so many 15-20 year old guys have grandma fetishes? Eeeeesh! I don’t get it. Why? What? WHY??

Check out these hot male models on IG: 

PaulRiley59

ClaytonPaterson

JamesCarrick6 

C’mon Vegas, there’s gotta be some retired emotionally banged up Chippendale strippers out here I can date. I can still look like a HS girl if that’s your thing! 

Don’t mind me I’m feeling it today. Or maybe I just need a nap. At my age it’s really hard to tell the difference.

Nevada. Desert. Barren wasteland. There’s an actual place not far from where I live called Dead Mountains Wilderness, if that’s any indication. It’s where my sex life went to die, along with my compassion, motivation, and overall will to live.

Even Miso is turning bright lights Vegas.

He shakes his little fur on the catwalk.

He works hard for the money! So hard for it honey! 

The Cosmopolitan dive-in posted their summer movie schedule. They raised their price from $5 to $7 for non hotel guests. Still, amazing deal. 

Cosmopolitan Dive-In movies listing 2019

Let’s!

Suckaaaaa

Look who’s back. Back again. Shady’s back. Tell a friend. Guess who’s back. Guess who’s back...

So there I was drinking my tea on the landing as I do every morning, writing, messing around online, when who comes ‘a mewing? 

Sigh.

“I wish I knew how to quit you!”😭 ❤️🐾

No such thing as free blowjobs

I’m confused. Is that the husband? The wife? I look at some of these photos and I honestly can’t tell anymore. It could be the wife, look at the French cut manicured fingernails, but then why are her arms and legs so veiny, and why is she dressed like a 14 year old boy, and where are her boobs? 

You crazy kids today playing with ageism and mixing your genders together. I’ll never be that cool I’m afraid.

Anyway

Look, I don’t get a thrill out of social media mob lynching. Just like marching in the streets and blocking traffic doesn’t turn me on. In my last blog I was simply telling a story of recent events that threw me out of joint while waxing philosophical. That bass player just happened to be involved. I read those recent interviews with his ex band mates who had nothing nice to say about him. It doesn’t surprise me one bit. Not because I know his character, I don’t, but the music industry has always been cut throat, as is any work place. Some are just better at being ruthless assholes than others. 

There have been very few people in my lifetime I’ve connected with, sadly becoming fewer and fewer. Simone was one of those people. And while I keep hearing statistics that say we’re living longer, perhaps, just not in my world.  And it bothers me when friends forget each other when one of them dies. Byron died only seven weeks ago and no one mentions him. No one. Not once since he died. Is this what happens when people die now, we just dismiss them? 

I miss my stray cat. During the depressing shit months of December-February here in the brutal cold barren desert, taking care of this little stray kitty was all I had to keep me sane, especially when I was sick.

Alas

Miso is not the sweet cuddly lost hungry kitten mewing at my doorstep to get out of the February cold and rain anymore. It’s spring now, the weather’s much warmer, he’s an outdoor stray, three months older, now he’s a teenager in human years full of piss and vinegar, clawing and hissing at me every chance he gets for no apparent reason. I hardly see Miso kitty anymore, not in the last 12 days, and that’s probably a good thing because like all teenagers today I have no idea what’s going on with him. I hadn’t seen Miso in a while and then just the other morning he came out of nowhere and I happened to look down and saw him following me home like a puppy. He let me pick him up and carry him which I started doing because he likes weaving in between my legs as I walk and it slows me down. But the second I set him down on the ground again he rubs up against my legs in repeated 8 formation and then out of nowhere just randomly attacks me, much like in my dating life. It’s a boy thing. It has to be. Regardless, it’s irritating. 

Miso’s breath smelled like fresh tuna that morning which explains why he no longer eats the soft food I buy for him, someone’s feeding him well, but he still eats the hard food I put out. I don’t get it. He doesn’t sleep in my apartment anymore. I have no idea where he sleeps now. I have no idea why he follows me home. He lets me pet him, and pick him up, and scratch his face for all of three minutes, he doesn’t seem to be in any pain, and still he follows me home... just to attack me. 

?

Boys will be boys!

Las Vegas is the only place I’ve ever been where daylight depresses me. I love being outside. I love being out in the sun. Just not in this town. And the men here are completely foreign to me. Even LA heterosexuals have a firm grasp of male/female gender roles, she does this for him, he does that for her, but the men in Vegas have no clue. I do this for you, but you do nothing for me? Even the damn cat!

I digress.

Older men understand gender roles, but most of them, seemingly all of them in Vegas, just don’t want to do their part. Fucking greedy. FYI that’s why you’re still single. 

I have no problems doing what’s traditionally expected of me as a woman. Do you know how many blowjobs I’ve given! And what do I get in return? Nada. Motherfu... !!

“I want a woman who wants to give me blowjobs for free.”

That’s exactly like a woman saying, “I want a man who wants to wash the dishes every night.”

No one WANTS to wash the dishes!

Know why? KNOW WHY?

I’m not nineteen years old anymore, you’re not Channing Tatum, this isn’t the land of Far Far Away, so thems be the breaks!

And that’s why I’m moving into senior housing in five years, like I trust a man to care for me in my old age. Ha. They don’t care for me now.

What men don’t understand is, we’ll replace you with cats. That’s common language now. My long time friend Brian reasoned once I move into a pet friendly building to just get two domestic fixed kittens and my home life will be complete. Yeah. That’s not a joke anymore. That’s an actual solution to companionship. We’re just replacing each other with pets. She doesn’t have to give him blowjobs. He doesn’t have to buy her expensive shoes. Homeless pets get homes. Problem solved! 

Tonight it’s you

Regardless how much her parents paid to get her into college, if the kid’s an obvious dipshit going in, she’s going to be an obvious dipshit coming out, forever a financial burden to her parents until they financially cut her off, and she spends the rest of her life smoking meth to feel better about herself, while trying to break into our homes every 29th day of the month. Gee parents, aren’t ya’ll glad you forked over millions of dollars on your idiot kid? 

I just saw the best movie trailer. For Johnny! We’ll do it for Johnny! https://youtu.be/N3RqajyxUco 

See kids, there’s a movie called The Outsiders, made in 1983, a remake of the book written by S.E. Hinton. Oh. Right. Sorry. I should explain. A book is a written story...

I go into detail how/why somewhere in this six year disaster of a blog the meaning behind the name Simone Gordon. Point is, once upon a time there really was a Simone. She didn’t live long though. She hung herself many years ago while we were all in our 20’s. 

STORY 1

Back when Simone and I worked together, she was seeing a guy, living with a guy actually who looked like Kiefer Southerland circa Young Guns. It was the 90’s but the 80’s were still going strong. Did the 80’s ever die? Enter a known bass player in the music industry who befriended Simone and her boyfriend. The three of them hung out from time to time and became close friends. We could all speculate what type of relationship Simone, her boyfriend, and this bass player had, and we would probably be right. Though I never spoke to her about their three-way relationship in great detail, Simone informed me this bass player was more her friend than his, whom she and her boyfriend met together. Not long however after their three-way friendship began, feelings got hurt, Simone’s boyfriend cheated on her repeatedly to feel better about himself, and as could be expected he and Simone broke up. The bass player walked away like nothing happened, unscathed. As he should. Speaking from experience, as the third wheel in past three-way friendships, we’re just the guest stars. Guest stars get to casually walk away afterwards like nothing happened. After all, we’re all adults. I personally take ZERO responsibility what occurs in your relationship after I leave.

When Simone and her boyfriend broke up she spiraled down into a very dark place I later found out in the final letter she mailed me. Not even being admitted into a mental institution could save her. Back in those days I had a rather significant substance abuse problem and couldn’t take care of myself let alone pay attention to anyone else. To this day it is my one true regret in life. I will regret Simone’s death until the day I die. 

People will say Simone’s death is not anyone’s fault but her own. But is it? Is it really? What good are we if we can’t take care of our friends and loved ones? 

STORY 2

Once upon a time, long ago in the late 90’s, I befriended two men. One of the two men was a concert promoter. Still is. These two men happened to be roommates at the time. We all lived in Hollywood, down the street from one another and the three of us got cozy at least once a week for an entire summer.

Good times.

And then I met my future ex-husband.

STORY 3

Around 2005, I worked for a sushi restaurant in studio city.

STORY 4

The concert promoter and I remained acquaintances through the many years mostly on social media. I’ll hear from him on occasion. He was recently in Las Vegas, putting on a show and kindly invited me to the concert. Unfortunately I had to work and couldn’t attend but I took a look at the roster anyway and... 

That bass player was on it. 

It’s awful when there are people who remind you death, and not just any death, the suicide of a friend. 

Since Simone’s suicide I have not seen her ex-boyfriend or the bass player. Had I gone to this concert the other night, I would have. Call it morbid curiosity. Call it, I don’t know what, but I looked at this bass player’s Instagram page and saw that he had moved on with his life, happily, seemingly without a care in the world. Instagram is the happy you want the world to see and believe about your life. He’s married for a long time now, and one of the pictures he and his wife took together was at the sushi restaurant where I used to work back in 2005. And for whatever reason it just pisses me off. This bass player knows Simone died. He knows the gruesome way in which She died. And there’s a fucked up part of me that needs to know he’s haunted by her suicide like I am. This bass player didn’t do anything wrong. Did he? Not really. Like myself he failed her like everyone else in her life. Like me he didn’t get involved. But we’re all adults right? We’re all adults. That’s what we say. This bass player and I chose not to get involved with Simone’s personal problems even though we were part of them. But we’re all adults. Does that make us free of blame? Free of guilt? Not according to her family who didn’t want any of Simone’s “Hollywood friends” to attend her funeral services. It’s our fault she committed suicide. Her family gave themselves no blame.

And the more photos where this bass player and his wife look happy in his Instagram timeline, the angrier I got, especially at the photo of them sitting in my old place of employment with big smiles on their faces. I need to know he’s haunted by her suicide. I wonder if he ever told his wife about a girl he once knew named Simone, who killed herself not long after they met. I need to know he can still see her face hanging from the noose tied to the ceiling lights. I need to know there’s a song that reminds him of her death. And every time he hears that song his world crashes for a little while. I need to know he still feels something for her. Not because I want him to suffer, I want the satisfaction of being assured he hasn’t forgotten about her. 

My acquaintance, the concert promoter, was in Vegas for a few days. We text each other as all long lost acquaintances do, with hollow enthusiasm of getting together for a drink we both know won’t happen. 

For those of us who have survived the many train wrecks of our youth, we do our best to leave the sequel of corpses on the tracks and walk away. 

Some are better at it than others.  

I’m not a huge Cheap Trick fan but I absolutely love this song. https://youtu.be/tL251usi-K8 It reminds me of all this and everyone I just wrote about. 

I live very close to Fremont Street Experience. Within walking distance. Cheap Trick is playing on (I imagine) the main stage August 24th. I’m not a huge fan but it would be interesting to see if they’ll play my song. 

If you dare

Oh hi. Hello. How you doin’? 

Feeling guilty for throwing my shoes at him yesterday, I went out looking for Miso this morning as I do every morning to feed him. I was determined however not to let Miso into my apartment. Even though the swipe he took at my face yesterday didn’t leave a mark, he’s still food aggressive without any reason to be. He’s the only cat I feed. The only cat I let into my apartment to sleep. 

Around 8am I went outside with a bowl, a can of food, water, and treats. I sat on the side of my building and called for Miso. Within minutes he appeared from across the street. I opened his cat food, put it in the bowl, and fed him outside. Three minutes went by and Miso stopped eating. I put treats in his bowl but he wouldn’t touch it. After trying to coax him to eat more he just flat out refused. Fine. Whatever. I picked up his bowl of food to bring inside. I’d try again later. But as soon as I started walking towards my security gate. Miso followed. I opened the gate and Miso ran up to my apartment. Reluctantly I opened my apartment door to let him in. And before I could take one foot inside my apartment, that fury little shit attacked my leg again. He just “mrow bitch!” And pounced on my leg with all four paws of claws. 

Motherfu.... !!! 

I don’t understand why he’s doing this. 

Once inside my apartment Miso ate the rest of his wet food, some dry food, and his treats. We played a little, I pet him, he headbutt me, all as per usual, and then I let him out. An hour later he came back in, ate some hard food, and went back out. 

He eats fine. His mouth doesn’t seem to hurt him. He doesn’t growl when he eats. His appetite seems fine. He’s gaining weight and growing fast. I don’t know? He’s just so hyper and aggressive with his initial feeding. I don’t even want to look to see what his claws are doing to the legs of my jeans. 

I guess this is just his thing now? Whenever he’s about to eat he just attacks my legs. He’s so sweet and affectionate otherwise. But the moment he knows he’s about to eat, LOOK OUT! 

He’s the only cat I feed. I feed him twice a day when he’s around. Sometimes more if I’m off. WTF? 

As I ponder my kitty woes I walked up to the post office. Glad to see people are just as patient as ever standing in line to mail packages.😜🤪

Anyway, sooooo anyone interested cat sitting on occasion when the weather’s too hot? Just wear jeans when you feed him and I’ll pray for you. 

Our lord who art in Heaven

Hallowed be thy name 

Thy Kingdome come

Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven... 

Laziest red dot catcher ever.

Nothing more

Love is not love 

Which alters when it alteration finds, 

Or bends with the remover to remove. 

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken

The only way to fully understand this sonnet is to have once madly loved, immediately followed by your love ripping that promise to shreds. If it was real love you will never love again, I promise. Only then can you fully understand the misery of true love described in that sonnet. Glorious torment. 

This is it. The end. There is nothing more. Like Dean Martin, I’m just biding my time in Vegas with booze and tramps waiting to die.

“You’re not moving any time soon are you?” He asked rhetorically mid speech.

Actually, yes. Yes I am. In about two years I’m moving to Palm Springs. Senior housing is cheaper there. I’m going to need help walking. When I was horribly sick last January I had to drag myself around to get better. I haven’t the strength to do it again next year. 

The cruelty of being mortal is looking young and beautiful as my internal body withers with age. It’s just cruel. Fuck youth and beauty. I’m old. I want to look old. You’ll never understand it unless this happens to you. People think when you look young, you are young. 

This morning I threw Miso the cat out of my apartment. Twice. Threw him out onto the sidewalk.

This damn cat has gotten comfortable. And since he is mostly feral, fury boy bits still intact, he is growing ever more aggressive. He used to be sweet, timid, scared, just looking for a place to eat, sleep, and get out of the cold. Now he’s aggressive and demanding. About a week ago he started randomly attacking my legs while I put his bowl of soft food together. I have claw marks all over my legs. My sweet little kitty is gone. In his place is a stark raving mad fury lunatic. 

This morning I was on my way to the laundromat and Miso jumped out from the bushes as he had in the past. His fur was ice cold, he was shivering, hungry, probably tired, and he meowed pathetically at me begging for help. It was freezing cold and super windy last night and he was out in it for at least 7 hours. I was going to look for him one last time before going to sleep but I had looked twice earlier and in all honesty he has just gotten too aggressive, confrontational. 

So when he meowed at me this morning I reluctantly rushed him up to my apartment to feed him. But instead of eating he just played with his food and started opening my cabinets and jumping all over the place knocking everything over. I threw away Miso’s food and water and kicked him out. 

When I finished doing laundry I came home and did some things around my apartment. I went out to check yesterday’s mail and Miso ran up to me again. I thought I’d give him another chance and let him back into my apartment to feed him some hard food this time, and water. But the moment we got into my apartment Miso started attacking my legs again. Clawing and biting at them. I bent down to fill his bowl with food and Miso clawed me in the face. That was it. I threw my shoes at him until he ran out of my apartment and down the stairs. I opened the security gate and kicked him out onto the sidewalk.

And that is the last time that cat comes inside my apartment. 

I looked online to see why Miso had suddenly gotten so aggressive and the most common answer was because he had become comfortable and territorial over me and my time. And that simply will not do. 

If he needed a place to eat and sleep I was more than happy to provide that for him, but that’s it. The other day he was hungry and tired. He ate and slept for five hours while I was busy around the apartment. Today however he was just being territorial. And that will not do. 

It’s a cold cruel world out there little kitty. You need more time out in it. 

Men are lucky. Parents today being what they are, there will always be a young beautiful woman in need. As long as you provide her what she wants, you have a shot at having someone getting you medicine when you’re sick. Either that or she’ll take your money and bail. 

I’m old. I’ve been through the wringer one too many times. Enough. I can’t risk any more. Between falling in love again and senior housing, I’ve already chosen senior housing. 

You care about credit card points, and credit scores when you plan on getting married, buying a house and starting a family. Millennials don’t think that way. Their selfish greed will keep them out of marital and parental financial troubles. Smartest generation ever. 

I’m going to start doing meth

“I’m the male half of a couple. My female partner is bisexual and would love you.”

No thanks. I’m straight.

“Yes, I know you’re straight.”

Why then did you mention your bisexual female partner?

“Just so you know she’s an option.”

But I’m straight.

“Yes I know.”

Obviously that’s not something I’m interested in. 

“Well she’s married, and really wants another woman to join us.”

But I’m straight.

“Yes I know.”

To continue with this idiotic conversation for the next ten minutes it’s going to cost you $1,000. You can make that payment via Zelle or Venmo @art_noir, you dumber than a bag of rocks, stupid motherfucker. 

And 

Good morning!

Speaking of stupid...

Wouldn’t be the first time I was wrong about one’s character. They posted a video of a husky puppy mill and titled the video “Heaven”. 

Not so Heaven for those puppies, DICK.

At the very least he could’ve pretended to be stupid and said he didn’t know it was a puppy mill. It’s easy to believe people are stupid.

I blame women.

I blame women who raised inconsiderate morons, and I blame women who allow men to be fat, lazy and stupid. 

You can allow a man to be fat if you plan on staying with him forever. But no woman will keep a man who’s become fat, lazy AND stupid. Instead she allows him to become lazy and stupid and then kicks him to the curb. STOP IT. I know this to be true because I’ve gone on a half dozen first dates with these idiots after you’ve divorced them. At least my ex impregnated his next girlfriend while we were getting divorced. See. Courtesy. Ya’ll will never have to deal with him. 

And it’s because of this I get mad when a (certain) girl friend throws away a good man! You know who you are. Yeah, that’s right, I’m still upset about it. 

Maybe just an open apology and small token of appreciation. “I’m sorry for unleashing my ex after I made a disasterous mess of him. Here’s $1,000.”