To look at this JAM. Warning: You may barf up cute, so wear a bib.

I am here blogging live from Aura’s apartment where I am beast-sitting. The Beast is stirring. Look at this thing. You might think awww what a cute kitty, who’s my wittle pritty witty kitty cat? But don’t be fooled, this is no cat. It is a Beast. Also it keeps sitting in my motherfucking chair you better step off, Beast I will turn you into shoes. I’m not afraid of you, butt licker.

The Feta Shitball Tree is back in full force and it stinks. There are little shitberries everywhere and now it’s really windy which means the shitballs are blowing everywhere. Totally disgusting. It smells just like a sheep climbed a tree, shat in it, and then died. If you guys are curious about what that smells like then I suggest you come here OR take a poop in a tub of feta, feed it to a sheep and wait to see what comes out. Listen, it’s disgusting, I don’t recommend you do that. Please, don’t do it. I just had a thought, do you think feta cheese, which is made of sheep’s milk, tastes like chicken to sheep? Interesting. Anyway, I do believe it’s a ginkgo tree, that is what the locals are saying. Locals meaning Skinny Old Rocker Guy with Big Fro, the Local Coffee Guy who Guest Appears on Law and Order Every Week and Either Plays Bad Guy or the Dead Guy in the Beginning, and the Ancient Italian Man who Does the Crosswords on the Bench Covered by Shitberries. There’s also Unmarried Slightly Lonely Middle Aged Man with Extremely Spoiled Pug. (I’ve seen the pug actually eat directly out of Slight Lonely Middle Aged Man with Extremely Spoiled Pug’s mouth, gag me.) Anyway they are all talking about the Feta Tree. It is very exciting in my neighborhood. A lot of commotion. Also, another local sighting, Mike D of the Beastie Boys! He was heading to AdRock’s house who lives on my street. Sometimes I see him watch TV from the street. He is a big fan of America’s Next Top Model (who isn’t). When you combine all these details it makes my neighborhood sound totally glamorous but remember, it smells like shitberries and my apartment is the size of a shoebox. Nature, FTW!

Listen, I’m very angry right now. I’m not sure how to handle this anger. There’s so much of it. So. Much. Rage.

So I go into Karina’s office because I want snacks. Karina and I have a very special relationship where she buys snacks and I eat them. It’s very sacred, something I hold very dear. She keeps buying snacks and I keep eating them. We’ve been doing this for several years now. Sometimes she is in the office working and I go in, grab my snack, and then leave. I occasionally mutter thanks. Most of the time I demand them. WOMAN SNACKS IN MY BELLY NOW! And she just points to her desk drawers and feeds this monster she calls her friend. Then the next time I come back there are more snacks. We have a very good and special relationship, as I mentioned above.

So this afternoon I go into her snack drawer. The woman keeps two snack drawers. TWO. That is how serious she is about keeping me snacked. She does not fuck around. Karina might take forever to make a decision about where to go to dinner, but when she is at Whole Foods she is in full fledged Wall St. nosedive to the snack aisle. Seriously, get out of her way. FUCKING SNACKS you feel me? So the top drawer has a bag of flaxseed and a box of instant oatmeal. Kashi Oatmeal. Maple and Brown Sugar. That is her “breakfast snacking” drawer. I am unimpressed. The time is almost 3 post meridian, I am not in breakfast snack mode. I am in SNACK SNACK mode. So I open drawer number 2. This is where she keeps the good shit. Last week she had Annie’s Organic Chocolate Graham Bunnies. Holy shit it’s like little chunks of crack cocaine. Heaven in a 100% post consumer waste recycled box. So I am hoping she has more bunnies for me.

I open the drawer and I see a box of Chocolate Brown Rice Krispies Treats (which are good despite the name) and a bag of Soy Crisps, BUT OH MY GOD WAIT THERE ARE HOLES AND LITTLE BITS OF FOOD EVERYWHERE.

Mice.

FUCKING MICE. Attacking my snacks! Thwarting my snacktime! Eating MY snacks that Karina bought FOR ME (her). WTF!!!!! NOOOOO! MY SNACKS! Those fuckers ate it all. They chewed through the box and through the wrappers, leaving a trail of snack behind. I’m so ANGRY at these dumb mammals. Listen, mice, you did not PAY for these snacks. Nor did I but at least I am a human mammal. I work and could conceivable BUY my own snacks, but don’t because I am too lazy. I am also getting “the milk for free” etc. Listen, mice. Do not go near my (her) snacks again or else I will destroy you. I will set out traps and when you are dead I will scream and then have someone else take care of the situation. Because I am human. I have the opportunity to get someone else to handle my situations. Like, for example, my snacking situation.

So long story short, I do not have ANY snacks! No snacks! I’m going to starve, do you understand? Already I am feeling weak.

I also learned an important lesson, which is that mice do not like Kashi instant oatmeal or flaxseed.

My friends Karina and John are getting married this weekend, so I’ll be heading out to the Jersey Shore (pronounced sho-uh) to get drunk, pretend to get shit stuck in my eyes, and refuse to dance to “YMCA”. But I just wanted to say OH DEAR GOOD GOD NEVER EVER EVER GET MARRIED EVER. The amount of work required so that everyone can party is totally insane. I mean get married blah blah, but just, like, do it at Pizza Hut or something. If you do it at Burger King you’ll get a crown, for FREE! None of this eight thousand dollar deposit crap or whatever it is. I don’t even know, I pulled that number out of my ass, but I know Burger King would be cheaper. Anyway, it’ll be fun. There is some kind of beach/water/ocean involved and I believe the couple is getting married underneath a skeleton of a whale. I dunno I’m totally making this shit up. I’m excited! I’m staying at a place that looks like Barbie’s dreamhouse (but in a good way?) and Karina said there will be dolphins. DOLPHINS. In fact she keeps texting me OMG OMG DOLPHINS DOLPHINS. I have not linked her to all the YouTube videos of dolphins trying to sex up people, and vice versa, because I am a classy lady. Anyway I better see a fucking dolphin or I’m totally going to GO OFF. In Canada, I did not see minks or beavers as promised so I’m on high alert for bullshit promises, but I should be used to this since I live in America. But you know what I mean.

I have returned from Canada, where I was conversating with nature. There was this thing called a “lake”, you might’ve heard of it. Totally strange. All this water…like totally surrounded by land. And yet there’s still fish in there and everything. Trees. Rocks. Birds that float in the water. FLOATING BIRDS do you understand? TOTALLY INSANE. What is up with that? And then people ride this thing called “a canoe” where they paddle with very large chopstick things and I was like, but wait, why paddle when you can attach a motor on that shit? Ha ha ha. No really.

The week was spent learning “white skills”. In fact we called it White Assimilation Week. I learned to canoe, play squash, and sail. Squash is fun, I have to say. I’m very shitty at it but I do like to hit things very much. Very satisfying I can see why Paleface likes it. I did not water ski because it looked totally painful like the boat is going to pull your arms off. Maybe white people’s arms can come off, I need to run more tests to find out. But, can it even GET WHITER than sailing? I don’t know. But I had a good time. Sailing is pretty fun, especially when you accidentally throw someone out of the boat without even knowing. All the sudden I turn around and like I’m alone in the boat, Hey! Come back here! Anyway I learned an important lesson: White people sure know how to have fun! Also, stars. There are a lot of them. AT least three or four dozen.

I went hiking too. Lathered myself in so much insect repellent my skin was burning off and I got a spider bite anyway on my arm and it’s all swollen and pussy. Totally disgusting, I do not recommend stepping foot into Canada because the entire country will try to eat you alive. Anyway it sucks to be back. New York City is basically the complete opposite of where I was.

I woke up to find a cockroach in my cabinet. Ugh.

Anyway, I see that Doretta has behaved very well. I’m surprised she didn’t run amok and call everyone assholes. But thanks to Doretta for subbing here at Annietown. She will now go to her regular Canadian Prime Minister of Annietown duties. Doretta your country was beautiful, you’ve done a great job. I hope you are proud, etc.

I am going to Canada on Saturday and will be gone for a bit. There will be trees. Some kind of lake. Many insects. There are talks about “canoeing” and “water skiing” and “going hiking” and “spending time outdoors.” I don’t know about any of that crap. I am more of a “sleeping” and “reading” and “eating” and “spending time indoors where there are no insects and dude is there wireless up there because it is the color of my needs” kind of person. However, I am looking forward to leaving the city. I am told there will be stars. I was like, stars? What’s that? Is that something I can roll into a fatty and smoke? No? Well then I am not interested. I AM NOT INTERESTED, NO SHUT UP. Also, I am told there will be no burritos. This is already the worst vacation ever. I will report more. Maybe I won’t report at all. I’ll be in Canada, I don’t think they have internet.

So instead of leaving Annietown a ghosttown while I am gone, if even just for a short while, Doretta will be GUEST BLOGGING. As many of you know, she is the Canadian Prime Minister of Annietown so it is only fitting that she blogs while I visit her country that has no internet. I don’t know how she’s going to fucking blog here considering Canada has no internet, but she’s smart. I trust her to figure it out. It will be nice to read my blog and not read stuff by me. Because quite frankly, being me is really difficult and sometimes I need a vacation from myself.

I have laid out careful rules for Doretta, which I shall share with you.

1. Do not mess with the site, or I will punch you in the neck.

2. Keep it “in the pants.”

3. You must have one post about Rain, the Justin Timberlake of Korea.

I feel that those rules are fair and just. Now, dear reader, Annietown is a democracy and there is a complicated system of checks and balances. This means that if Doretta violates any of the three rules, then you can impeach her. You do this by calling her horrible, awful names and punching her in the neck (see Rule 1). I will take back her Prime Minister sash. Yes, at Annietown the prime ministers wear sashes. Because it’s festive.

Ahoy!

This gave me a mind boner.

I have trapped a cockroach in my bathtub underneath a Tupperware container. It is ready if you want to take it “to go” or for “take away.” It will stay fresh. You can have leftovers tomorrow.

Please help me. My neighborhood smells very bad. It smells like feta cheese. It also smells like hot trash and pee and B.O. and also like room-temperature plain yogurt. Sometimes it smells like bacon. But mostly it smells like feta cheese and every time I walk out of my apartment I feel “totes nosh” and want to vomit in my own mouth. It turns out that the culprit is a tree. It is very large tree. It has bark and branches and green leaves just like a regular tree but it also has fruit that is filled with feta cheese. It is a feta tree. I know you thought that feta came from sheep, but actually it grows on trees, just like money. I keep thinking that at some point the fruit will all be gone, but the tree keeps making more feta. It wants to share it with the world, as if to say, “hello friend, please, have some fruit. It tastes salty and smells like socks.” It wants birds to take the feta fruit and carry it to faraway places where more feta trees can grow, but I can tell you right now the birds are looking at the feta fruit and they are like “You’re kidding right? We didn’t even eat this shit during the Depression.” I think it’s actually a ginko tree but my friend Brian is positive that it’s a sheep-eating feta tree. So if you have sheep, you will not want to walk it around my neighborhood. Just a little friendly warning. Leave the sheep at home.

Tomorrow night if you are in the fair City of New York, I will be giving a presentation at Pecha Kucha, which is kind of like Powerpoint karaoke. There will be 20 slides, 20 seconds each slide. The computer is set and I can’t control it. So basically if it’s boring, you will be spared. There will be extremely hip and potentially annoying and mostly pretentious designers and architects in attendance and you can look at the speaker list here. I’ll be talking about “Dear Architects.” I hope it’s funny. I haven’t written it yet.