Charlie is 17 and just recorded a CD. Why is he so accomplished? He didn’t get it from me, that much is obvious. You can check out his music here. Listen to it, buy it, or just be jealous that my kid is so awesome.
Max is gone and free now. Light a candle and wish him a safe journey.
The firstborn Wolf is having surgery, so send him blessings and play nicely among yourselves until I get back. You can listen to his music here.
xo
~
* Thank you so much, everyone who sent good wishes! Everything went well and we are expecting a successful recovery. xoxoxo
Tonight, I was complaining to Max about the people at our local Whole Foods store. I noted that you couldn’t tell the difference between the homeless guys and the hipsters, who were affecting the same look, i.e., filthy dreadlocks and grubby clothing.
Max replied, “But you can’t say the homelss guys are “affecting” the look.
Me: “True.”
Max: “They’re “rocking” it.”
Despite all my talk about being a samurai, I fell off my horse yesterday. It was bound to happen sometime, but it left me shaken and badly bruised.
Among my family troubles are Other family troubles. Things spun out of control, meaning I lost control. It really did feel like a damn bursting. All the careful containment of my grief and fear has allowed me to forget that I am a fucking wreck.
However! I picked myself up and got back on the horse. I got a ride to Chinatown, where Max has been transferred to a wonderful rehabilitation facility. Now he can learn to walk again and get ready to come home.
Everything about the new place is great, even the food. We are all still traumatized by the pretend “hospital,” which I can now divulge is a subsidiary of Kindred Healthcare, a corporation that made $4 billion in 2008. Why did they make $4 billion? Because their “hospitals” charge the insurance company $4,000 a day and then DON’T DO ANYTHING FOR THE PATIENT!
Ah well. I haven’t even begun with those fuckers. First things first. Here is Max having his dinner tonight and looking like Elvis. If you send him your blessings, I will pass them on.
I saw this photo the other day in juxtapoz, a stupid art magazine that my adopted son* Chris brought over. I was stunned by the glory of the poster on the wall: NO YOU SHUT UP is the single most brilliant statement anyone could possibly make. I think it may be my next tattoo.
The photo is a still from a new movie called (Untitled), a satire about the contemporary art scene. Sign me up! Not that I’ll ever get out to see a movie, but, you know, theoretically.
Adam Goldberg is making a real comeback in my life after maybe being the guy in the Sarah Palin is a Cunt shirt. Last night, my kid got us a copy of The Hebrew Hammer and we laughed our heads off until the disc got screwed up in the last act and froze.
* If you don’t know about my adopted son, we became friends on MySpace through our shared appreciation of Deadwood. Chris lost his mom many years ago and I volunteered to adopt him. My family has accepted this situation very graciously, and why shouldn’t they? I also have an adopted daughter, but we haven’t been able to meet yet. If you need to be adopted, let’s talk when I’m not so overwhelmed.
The Youngest Wolf surprised me by announcing my birthday from the stage, during his band’s performance at a local music festival. I was presented with this cake that he secretly made at a friend’s house. See why it’s great to have kids?
My husband made me laugh by saying the exact same thing that made me laugh in that other photo! I look kind of like a horrible Alanis Morrisette here, don’t you think?
Killing it in a leather jacket by somebody, t-shirt by someone else, jeans too.
With the help of my webmaster, I am able to offer all bloggers* this handy symbol of assurance that no hand-to-face poses will appear on your blog, except in cases of mockery or irony.
Please feel free to copy this image and use with confidence! If you like it, give a shout out to Charlie over here. Certain restrictions apply, blah blah blah, just don’t ask me what they are, I’m not a lawyer.
* Over the age of 18
Here is Max, enjoying his recent trip around the world. Doesn’t he look dapper?
Thanks for the collage, Max!
Has everyone had it with the fucking “boyfriend jeans” yet?
The whole thing bothers me. The jeans themselves, the sudden ubiquity of them, the Katie Holmes connection, and the name for them. What if you don’t have a boyfriend? What if you’re a lesbian?
The Younger Wolf has produced this beautiful pair of “Teenage Son Jeans,” that I hereby offer for sale at the special Tanking Economy price of only $200. But if you act now, you can get them for $100, plus shipping and handling. (He is officially through with them, in case you’re thinking that I’d sell his shit online without asking.)
Now to complicate things further, we have the “boyfriend jeans” for your boyfriend, thanks to Current-Elliot, who seem to have started this unfortunate scourge trend.
Shouldn’t they be called the “girlfriend jeans” when guys wear them?
Whatever. I just want them to hurry up and go away.
