Lately ( that means for 3 days ) I’ve been into reinventing the term biz casss like business casual. I want it to be the term for when you’re just doing what you have to do, getting work done like it ain’t no thing. Whatev’s I’m breezy.
I think my next tattoos (pre crosandwich chest tattoo) will be the words business and casual on my fore arms. I’m giving it 6 months to settle to decide if it’s a good idea. Right now if I was a magic 8 ball I’d read “sources say yes”
This morning I was sitting outside a coffee shop on lower queen anne, cause that’s how I roll these days. Anyway a dude in a harly davidson shirt came up and asked my pal for a light, when he got it he said “thanks, you’re a rock star” I made involentry faces at the dude, like screaming so loud that only dogs and cuthulu and cuthulu dawgs could hear it.
I need to make a new hate list. I don’t even know why it hits such a nerve but rockstar is the verbal equivelent of juggling fire at burning man. and by that I mean that I’m pissed i didn’t make it this year.
I’m trying to be less harsh about the world around me, it’s hard some days. mostly cause i’m a judgemental prick. but whatevs’ i’m so fucking buizz cas.
Also I started therapy this week. I didn’t realise how uncomfortable it would make me to talk about the stuff in my head. It kinda wreaked me for a day. I guess it’s gotta be done.
so i’m doing it and doing it and doing it well.
now i’m off to make more comix. art therapy.