Parishioners – Josh has a new site!
It is called Wiretap Follies
she wields the razor with the bold confidence of a dominatrix, but also with the tee-hee-I’m-naughty vibe of a schoolgirl swigging an airplane bottle of vodka on her way to EPCOT for the first time
I found it by going to his *MAGNIFICENT!* Twitter site
- Ever have someone burst into your bathroom stall and catch you rubbing lipstick all over your face and crying? Yeah, I thought that was you!
- It’s not that I have a FAVORITE rectal thermometer. I just think the Hannah Montana one is the most accurate.
Josh could also be found at the house of wigs / the diary of a copywriter, written on company time, billed to the client.
It documents his move to a new job and, just like me, a new Life and years & years in a hotel..
I spent maybe 20 minutes on the toilet yesterday. Dude, I totally just wrote the quintessential weblog opening line. I was just sitting there, wanting to spend time somewhere beside my desk.
There’s some Nicholson Baker book where he’s a temp, maybe? And he describes how going to the bathroom when new on the job is an important time, a time of respite and quiet contemplation — the only time you can really be yourself, letting your work-face slip off?
This is absolutely true, although Mr. Baker neglects to mention (I think … he hardly ever neglects to mention anything) how you have to sit and listen to other people go to the bathroom, which is a real mixed bag. The highlight yesterday was the guy who peed for so fucking long that I was convinced he was pouring something out of a barrel or large urn. Also there were like three or four false endings which made the whole experience seem even longer.
The good news is that someone prints out pages from the current day’s ESPN and/or Ad Age websites and scatters them on the floor of the handicapped-friendly stall for all to read. They’ve been there every time I’ve visited. It’s sort of the closest our sad, modern world can get to a Johnny Appleseed.
However, I first discovered Josh on Fireland, in one of its many incarnations.
I’m scouting the local delis for contenders. Yesterday’s had five steel shelves embedded in the walls but maybe four Cup [o’] Noodleses, ten boxes of Jell-O, and a half-dozen bars of soap carefully spread out in a vain attempt to take up space. Like maybe they were going to make the leap into Convenience Store Territory but realized, too late, that they couldn’t swing it. Also, photos of Frank Sinatra and Al Pacino and a GoodFellas poster. Even as the question “Why are there no brothers on the wall?” blazed through my head I noticed a framed painting of Jimi Hendrix behind me. Taped to the front window, however, were cardboard cut-outs of George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, and Jim Carrey, so I guess we know what gets the people in the door. The place was empty except for me and the person who made my sandwich, which ended up being a wrap, which I guess I ordered by accident because the kid here isn’t about the wraps, OK, I moved away from California for a reason, OK, and I certainly didn’t expect an allegedly Authentic Italian Deli with a photocopied photo of the proprietor with James Gandolfini over the cash register to put my sandwich in a tortilla and use some kind of too-sweet apple spread as a condiment. But nevertheless I’m going back there today because it is conveniently located and I have the sneaking suspicion I panicked when met with that huge chalkboard filled with tiny, crazy, Se7en-ish writing describing the “celebrity” sandwiches and chose poorly, which happens a lot.
10. I can keep the white-hot fires of geniusness burning indefinitely.
12. There’s good sexual harassment and there’s bad sexual harassment.
19 . Time rots with each passing second and so by now it’s pretty haggard, on its last legs.
20. Every day I should create a little and destroy a little.
A novel called Chokeville
June 28, 2005
I have been asked to not quote anything from the story directly and I don’t know if that includes even the chapter titles so I will just number them. Chapter 1 begins with a young man named HUGO washing up on a beach. (I think later we know that he is 17-18 years old?) He is unconscious and there is a chain attached to his ankle that goes back into the ocean (Atlantic? Pacific??).
and a beverage-review site called The Knowledge For Thirst.
Unfortunately this sudden love affair with Mike’s Hard Lime is turning out to cause major problems: I’m having a hard time reconciling my love for it with my normal, non-alcoholic beverage drinking tendencies. When I was checking out at the supermarket, I was like Oh man, I am drinking two of these as soon as I get to my car. No. Bad. Every morning I see them in the fridge and think: OMG I definitely need to have one of those before work. Also very bad. I seriously want to drink these all the time”while holding the baby and operating heavy machinery and writing on my blog and everything! I’m just saying please keep a close eye on me. You don’t suppose Mike’s Hard Lime is a gateway drug, do you? Watch there be a pomegranate-and-aÃ§ai-infused meth. That’s all I need.
WRITING / 1995-2006
A great deal of typing is collected in the Archive
WRITING / ELSEWHERE
Articles and whatnot for other sites, including The Morning News, Wired, and McSweeney’s, can be found in External.
Also, I have a copy of MANUAL!
An anthology of new work from seventeen writers with websites. It is available as a downloadable PDF. You probably already have it. Feel free to forward, print, share, discuss, deconstruct, and/or cherish.
Bless you, Brother Josh!