revenge of the HARLOTS!

so jefe (jeffrey hicken, my art husband) hangs up on me when i call unless i have a new art idea, of which i've had none.

and it's as if jefe's colluded with a couple of other friends because they're trying to get me to commit to future dates for making art etc. / so i figure i'll just sketch a few things out to make THEM feel better.

anyhow, so i'm letting a lot of my domain name ideas expire, and "revenge of the starlets.com" is one of 'em that expired mere days ago. 

i never liked the word "starlets." sounds like something i'd instinctively want to crush for fun.

but HARLOTS, on the other hand...

i can see the lettering, the nails, the blood drips, the fluids that i want to drink and put the leftovers in the refrigerator...

i see the swagger, the leather, the silver, the "almost 50-ness" of it all and it's perfect...

REVENGE OF THE HARLOTS.

and i called jefe to pitch the idea, the world, because if HE doesn't buy into the world i pitch, then it's toast and i can't run around in it and populate it. he doesn't see it, yet. so i have to SELL it so he can see that there's enough of a balance between heart and rage with the shtick (and i'm confident even though he hates my skankier side---it's jefe and james who keep me from jerking off and licking my fingers in the gutter in front of everyone).

and if i can pitch and sell REVENGE OF THE HARLOTS to jefe, then that's my stephen king's "THE STAND," the sleazy xerox cartoon showdown between the mattress humpers of the past 30 years, and the sweaty lovers who've been underground and passed over for the expensive truffles.

(jefe doesn't like "revenge" but i see "revenge" as more of a RECKONING. the slow, controlled swagger of destruction to counter the mattress-humping forces that're imprisoning us all. fuck. the chinese alone can NEVER get a break from us. either they're over here dying for our fucking railroads that we never even use anymore, or they're soylent green for our technology products). 

i almost talked myself out of jefe cheaply inspiring another quick idea out of me, until he said:

T H I N K    F E R A L.

and i jerked off through the blood (i'm apparently always on my period) and i'm gonna do the rest of my time here on earth MY way.

REVENGE OF THE HARLOTS indeed!

and

THINK FERAL
... i shall!

(maybe there's also something to this writing thing. manifesting things you wrote down before is a kind of magic, like illustrating and designing yourself or what you want to wear.... or BE or BECOME).