yay new naked self...I fucking love the photography and the fact that my dinosaur got to make its first appearance.
I used to write cymagen emails to his Flickr page, before he stared shooting with SG. So shooting with him made me happy.
I drove over to his studio the night before we left for tour with my suitcase, and all. He andSash build a box out of massive cardboard pieces for the set, let me play with their alien kitten, and fed me Rockstar drinks to keep me awake.It was a good last night in Los Angeles.

ugh....
I cant decide if the TAGS feature is the best or worst addition to this website, ever.
Because although i always seem to come across new insulting ones every time i look, they're also blunt, hilarious, and mostly true.
Im not gonna lie.
Can't dance for shit is a pretty accurate one.

Nathan Kostechko spent 7 straight hours on the dinosaur that is cuddling the side of me. He successfully covered up my shitty little home drawn stars that i got on my 18th birthday....and had to put up with me occasionally poking at my eyeballs and singing Boston songs out loud through out the night....

check out his interview with sg


The image was from a Winsor McCay film called Gertie the Dinosaur. I guess the significance of it, to me, is that Gertie was the first animatied chacter to be given unique and lovable personality. It was also the first animated film to use keyframes, which has since been a necessity in animation in order to create the illusion of  movement.
That and i simply love dinosaurs and how people interpret them in their art work, writings, and childrens books.
Anyways...I've been wanting her on me forever, and Nate was the perfect artist to do it. So i am one happy art fag.

Once again, we have miraculously made it into Canada for 3 more shows.
The customs guy had a fucking ball digging through our shit. He took a short reading break as soon as he found my copy of the SG book. ha.

I think i miss New York to an unhealthy extent.
Today i watched the news not to find out about the cause or details involving the plane that crashed into a building on the upper east side.
No...no....i watched it so that i could see 72nd street and the people walking around behind the news reporter. I zoned out and thought of when the bus would drop me off on that block after summer camp, when i was a younger.
Simply viewing the streets that i am some what familiar with, have been exceedingly comforting lately....

Honestly. What angel of doom birthed this beast?!

all other frighting pictures of Nicole Richie, for my visual entertainment, are welcome

-The thought of field slaughterings along with classical music
-Cough drops with cigarettes
-New Mastodon
-Those pink snowball treats from the gas station
-Mixing diet Pepsi and cherry Coke
-Rare meat with white wine
-Skip James
-Nixons cracker eating habits
-Watching Japanese girls try to decide how to order their eggs (sunny side up!)
-Algebra (inverse functions!)
-Erotic Photo hunt
-Being awake to hear the 6am new reports

My day started out swimmingly the other morning, after waking up to scurry off to the airport before caffeine (and my functional shoes) had a chance to reach my body.

At the airport, a 4 foot tall Canadian woman who was searching my bag decided to call me a bitch for asking her to not make me focus on her grubby little midget hands in my bag, until my laptop, digital camera, and passport made their way off of the conveyor belt. I thought canadians were all filled with love, kindness, and maple....

From the airport, Nixon, Razzi, and I went straight to what may have been the most repulsive emergency room i've ever had to waste my day in.

Nixon had an eye ulcer that caused her to walk around with sunglasses on as she walked into things due to her shitty equilibrium.
Result: a date with an optometrist and some eye drops to take daily. and oh yea. no contacts. which made the image of her putting on makeup and dancing on a stage, really funny.
but in reality, she pulled it off. which was quite a let down

I have floating knee cartilage....soft tissue damage...insertmedicaltermshere....I spent 2 weeks gimping around towns and fucking up dance moves that required bending my legs..
Result: To avoid more pain and surgery in the future, i was informed to 'take it easy' for a week or two. Instead, i went from the hospital to the venue were i walked in heels and jumped off of a chair...

oh. and Razzi has a cold, which she has been using to infect all 8 of us with.

Sixela made her way home, while we were in Canada.
ANd got replaced with Vegan Mc Merchatron.


rest in cocktail induced peace, Alexis

• I watched the Northern Lights and listened to faggy music, during a long drive out of Calgary


• i got to see Visha. who came down to the hotel and said goodbye to us, the morning that we left


• i've become obsessed with dill pickle chips and Fosters Home for Imaginary Friends on my ipod.


• I got to punch 2 doods in the face, bust some guys lip open, trip some asshole, and spit in a mans eye. I enjoy venting on innocent people, at the end of the day.


• the SG Vancouver group, brougt chucks to the show for me because they care about my orthopedic well being


• Applebonbon gave me a copy of Black Spring.He informed me that it was Henry Rollins favorite book, and it had been his favorite book too. i made him sign it for me..

fficer Evans scolded me at Grants Pass, OR for indecent exposure. And now Officer Evans is the name that has replaced the noun formally known as "van"
Nixon's journal explains this better than i do....

:In San Fransisco, Quinne and i had a sleep over at her house. The next day, we drifted through the city in a failed attempt to find me some shoes OTHER than heels. By the end of the night, she was carrying me through the streets, on her back. I have some amazing friends...

The list of things Chloe Saint Reagan learned in San Fransisco:

• Theres nothing painful enough that some sugar and vicodin cant fix. (thank you scully for my massive box of lolly pops)


• Throwing beer bottles will only lead to bloody heads and lawsuits.


• There are NO In-N-Outs in that town.


• Laughter is not allowed in Quinnes kitchen


• The robotic droned voice that comes from the loud speaker in the Bart Station, makes me kind of hot...

:In Seattle, I read an email from a close friend who urged me to be taking more pictures. A hobby that i haven't had much motivation for lately. Shortly after this email, i met up with a friend of mine, who happens to be an amazing photographer. With in a few minutes, he just handed me his new wide angle lens, in assumption that we were about to go on a photo adventure. I didn't even have time to refuse.
Results will soon be uploaded...

The list of things Chloe Saint Reagan learned in Seattle:

• Sneaking into secured construction areas, is nearly impossible in clanking heels.


• Driving in the car that i caused so much damage to only 5 months back, made me feel slightly akward and guilty.


• Kemchi is tasty[/itemlist]
  [listitem]Every store in Seattle seems to be out of high tops. Way to go, FAKE Grunge Town...


• While watching a gay porn, i was fascinated to see that there is a fetish for armpit licking.


• People in Seattle, would prefer to have their collared shirts signed more that any other item on them. I signed several fancy shirts with my name and math equations.

I need to get my hands on a god damn pair of Converse, some pain killers, Audry Hepburn movies, cheap Luckies, the new Mastodon album, a bike with pegs, a wide angle camera lens, and more wireless internot.
This is my touring wishlist.

The two songs that made Willson Phillips the legendary band of the 90s were called Hold On and Release Me.

Razzi got her head tattooed by Nak, the other day. Nixon and I were there for the adventure...actually, i suppose i was there for the adventure since Nixon also got ink drilled into her skin, too.

Living with Nixon in Los Angeles has been quite a pleasure.

She has the very odd habit of leaving every cabinet door open. I mean all of them. even those ones that are built waaaay to high to reach for in everyday kitchen browsing.
She gets to them everyday in various states of drunk and hung over...

She let me tag along for Bats Day at Disney. She ditched me in obvious embarrassment, since i was wearing a wife beater with jeans and she was drenched in black fabric and a parasol. It was quite an experience that i hope my camera will join me for, next time.

Days have filled with Queens Of The Stone Age and watching ladies dance on ladders, as i do my best impressions for a zombified Britney Spears, in the mirrors of practice.
Nights have been consumed in cereal and diet cokes at the SG office.
My life seems to be all fun and games..although sometimes I miss my bed and Harlem. Where my days started off with black coffee, and ended in white wine.