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...you can't sink the titanic...
the willow house was a fucked up little house we used to call home while we were at tyler school of art together. the house was condemned by the city. now we're all scattered all over the place, far from willow ave. i thought this might be a good way for us to keep in touch and share music and whatever projects we're working on. maybe also give each other a kick in the pants to make art or whatever.
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4 comments:
how cruel to torture me in this way justin you know waht this show does to me. i might however be able to get into a spin off show concerning the mom post enevitable divorce
Yeah, I think divorce might be inevitable when your husband builds little doll girls to keep himself company. I saw one of the creepiest things on a road trip recently. A trucker store in one of those Flying J places was selling life sized little girl dolls, in total absence of any other products for children. Right next to mudflaps, tire pressure guages, and bumper stickers about "no lot lizards". I'm not sure if it's more disturbing that truckers might be fucking the dolls or that they maight be buckling them into the passenger seats and talking to them and tucking them in in motels in the extra bed after reading them stories in a sort of norman bates and his mother kind of way.
when i was in maine i saw these hide and seek dolls that they seemed to sell at like beer tobacco and beef jerky places. it was a doll facing the wall real clothes on and hands placed in front of where there should be a face but no details. almost like someone dressed a broom stick up as a kid. i kept thinking like really old creepy couples would buy this to put in their house to pretend they had a kid, however i think if you are pretending to have a kid in your house you have problems. and if you are pretending to have a kid in your house who happens to playing hide and seek then you are truly fucked up.
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