People like to break things.
I went back to Governor’s Island with Erin to take down the typewriters and of course it started downpouring the minute after we rented our bikes. In other words, our asses got very, very, very wet. Erin came prepared and had an entire outfit in her purse. Literally her purse is the size of a wallet and she busts out with a whole wardrobe of clean, dry clothes. She probably had like a 20-piece Chicken McNugget meal in there too. That reminds me a of a dude on the ferry wearing a shirt with a hotdog inside of a heart and it said LIPS AND ASSHOLES. I couldn’t tell if it was a band name or if he was celebrating Gay Pride weekend, or if he was saying that he actually likes hotdogs in the real I-like-eating-lips-and-assholes way. Confusing statement. But awesome shirt nonetheless. Anyway they ended up closing the island a little early. Rosalyne (THANK YOU ROSALYNE) also came to help me carry the shit off the island. If you see Rosalyne give her a hug. She loves getting hugs from strangers.
Anyway I had put a little sign on the typewriter tables saying, hey buddy, write whatever you want, just leave the paper in the typewriter. So of course, everyone tore off the paper. Also they jammed the keys, messed up the ribbons, and worked the lever on the Sears Tutor so hard that the spring broke so now the lever doesn’t work. The worst though, was that someone was messing with the ribbon and then WIPED HIS OR HER HANDS ON THE WALLS. There were like black finger print smears on the wall. I wanted to die. Dude. Look at this house. It is old. It is historical. It is pretty. It is pretty because people do not use the walls as a napkin. Dude, use your CLOTHES. Don’t use the damn walls. Don’t be a dick.
Over the weekend there was the Olaf Eliasson opening, the arts crap, and also a SWIMMING RACE around the island. It’s like they really, really, really want people to visit Governor’s Island. And it worked. Everyone I know pretty much went there for the very first time, which is cool. Anyway swimming in any river that goes through NYC seems…toxic. Like you will get all kinds of diseases. However, if you survive it somehow, you will never, ever get sick again. Your immune system will be like hah, encephalitis? I SURVIVED NEW YORK HARBOR, NATCH. On the ferry Erin and I were chatting with this fella who was convinced that the Harbor water was cleaner than the tap water because “there are many drugs in the faucet water.” Like you know, people go into the john and shoot up or snort a rail and then pee or do a big-kid sitdown and then all that winds up in the water system and heroin and coke are apparently not filtered out. I was like shit, son, I should drink more water. It’s one of those situations where you just shrug. I like shrugging. It is a good way to end conversations I think. Hey, Annie, is that thing due today? Shrug. Hey Annie, is the 1 train running? Shrug. Hey there is a lot of drugs in NYC tap water. Shrug. It’s nice.
oh gosh…so, did you get any contents with that project or just smeared walls and broken typewriters?
Fly: I got some, but it’s kind of all wrecked. But there’s some good stuff in there. There was a lengthy discussion about chocolate milk for some reason. And there were a lot of kids typing on them and writing cute stories which was cool too. I think had they been up longer and in a place where people weren’t total dicks (i.e. in a place that’s watched more or less) it would’ve been more successful.
A friend inadvertently developed soup recipe yesterday while bathing her pet schnauzer that she is sure will knock Campbell’s on its ASS.
+ Annie exposes harmful side effects of Twriter ink, promoting cheap cuts of meat and drinking East River tap water.
= By Any Standards I Know. That’s 2 Very Awesomely Toxic Weekends!
no chicken nuggets, just a week’s supply of the most awesome egg and cheese sandwiches ever. clearly.
I was thinking that I would sure like to read the contents of your mechanical internet posts. Then I realized that I’m not so sure I want to read the content of the real internet posts, and now I’m not so sure all the way around.
It’s about the process, isn’t it? It’s aaaaall about the process.
It IS about the process, right? The process of what humans do to shit they don’t own but which is on public display with no one on watch.
Next time install CCTV cameras and record the vandalism. Install that along with the pages and you’ve got one fine statement about humanity at its best.
I agree with Ms. Bizarro.
Jon: It was highly toxic even though no alcohol was involved. I was too busy to drink, imagine that.
Erin: Thanks again, I heart you. I have your table! I’ll bring it by this weekend or something while I have Aaron’s dolly/granny cart.
Pony: I am selling your typewriter because it is too heavy. I know you are emotionally connected to this typewriter. But this is what happens when you leave me with something. I end up selling it. Because I need cash monies for the drugs taht I will eventually give back to the NYC tap water system.
Ms. Biz: Yeah it would be cool to ‘catch’ dicks on camera, but then I suppose I can just watch Bush speeches and be done with that. I shoudl’ve taken pictures of the ravaged typewriters but I was so annoyed that it didn’t even occur to me.
RT: Do you agree with everything that’s been said?
Smoking out EVILdoers IS hard work. (Note to jon: These people kickASS: Annie, Annie and Annie!)
Ha! OMG you made me laugh OUT LOUD TWICE in like one minute. I should become a regular visitor to Annietown.