My Summer is completely living up to expectations. I've had cigarette laden Spiderhouse adventures every day. Yesterday there was a "bubble party," it was so "Austin" that I nearly hacked up my bearclaw. I think the party would have been more successful sans their pointy incense sticks. Other than that, I'm re-re-re-reading Flannery and watching the final episode of "7th Heaven" (saccharine tear falls down and crystallizes on my face). Pretty soon I am going to return to the studio and start making papier mache junk and working on my graphic novel. I've been going out like a madwoman lately to make up for my prior penchant for hermithood. No more reclusive bun-wearing Ali (until I'm confirmed as a priestess of sexiness). Man, I am going to be this town's Tara Reid. Tit mishaps, tangueray spilling, and breaking my pelvis from dancing too dirty. Just kidding. My bones are sturdy. I come from hearty potato-peeling stock. I am going to see "Brick" tonight. I have no idea what it's about. But, let's guess shall we?
A child is born with a curve-deficiency that manifests itself as a squarish blockheadiness. He is made fun of relentlessly, until finally, shamed, he throws himself through a store window. Then he is taken in by Bashir, who runs the FoodMart. They have a torrid love affair until Blocky bashes his head in during a moment of passion. Using some cement, and his own brick-like cerebellum, he crafts Bashir a grave for eternity. Now that's love.