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Analyze me

I’m at the workshop of some guy to get a jacket chain stitched. The workshop is in a building behind a house in Chicago. If you’ve been around here, you know what I’m talking about. The artist is this British dude that has very wild energy. Kind of reminds me of that dude from Idles, but smaller. Looks like he doesn’t shower. So I brought him a jacket and he completely disassembled it. I start freaking out because I remember that I already have a deal with a different artist (I am actually working with IRL). At one point his mom is there and he kicks us out? So I’m just chilling in the backyard with his mom while she’s on a swing and I’m sitting at one of the many lined up picnic tables. When he was done it was an incredibly beautiful and creative jacket, far beyond what I had asked.  I realize that I was still getting my husband jacket made by the other artist, but this jacket was for me. I hadn’t even paid.  I was worried about paying for another jacket.  I was confused why he made something so intricate. Did this guy love me?  Did I love him? I sat on him and kissed him.  He tasted like cigarettes. I started leaving and he asked if I wanted to make babies and I said I already had some.

@mossyelfie

Jul 16, 2024

🎞

oh god i remembered an embarrassing one

one Austin Film Fest i was on the lookout for David Lowery (director of A Ghost Story and The Green Knight). i got access to the filmmakers bbq and thought i saw him but he was engrossed in conversation. i almost chickened out but i kept googling pictures of him to make sure it was him while i psyched myself up. finally, i worked up the courage to tap him on the shoulder and ask if he was David Lowery. Reader, he was not 💀 i apologized profusely, asked him about the short film he *was* premiering at the festival, and escaped as fast as i could feeling DEEPLY MORTIFIED. the next few days i was still on David Lowery watch and noticing that the bald, five-o-clock shadow, black skinny jean look is much more common among filmmakers than i realized lmao. thus i decided to play it safe and simply accost him after his panel the following day. on my way to the panel, i ran into a friendly lady who was looking for the same panel, so i walked her there while telling her my embarrassing mishap and plans to finally meet the elusive director. once we arrived, she disappeared and i felt a little offended she didn’t want to sit with me. turns out SHE WAS ON THE PANEL. one of the writers for THIS IS US!! mortified AGAIN, i started rehearsing my next apology for not knowing who she was. the panel was great, both she and David Lowery were so insightful and lovely, even making me tear up a bit. afterwards i approached her and apologized and told her how some things she said on the panel touched me. she was super gracious and then said “so i told David your story, let me introduce you to him” 💀💀💀 anyway, she made the introduction and left to talk to more people. the first thing he said was “so was it another bald guy in black skinny jeans?” so that’s my mortifying but deeply treasured celebrity story. i finally got to meet the REAL David Lowery.

@capyboppy

Mar 25, 2024

⭐

TWO STORIES two love interests BOTH RAP SHOWS

In 2014 I went with my buddy and my girlfriend of the time (now best friend) to see Danny Brown. I hadn’t slept the night before, and we were in a bit of a low key tweaker phase, fitting for seeing the self described Adderall Admiral, and I think between me and GF we honked up easily 300mg of adderall and drank a 12 pack and a pint, before the show. The show was so fucking lit. He passed blunts around the crowd the whole time, it ripped, my heart rate was like a Venetian Snares song, I wanted to swallow the crowd with the force of my body. Later me and girlfriend had a horrendous fight that kept going on in cycles all night in the hotel room that we shared between the three of us. We were too drunk to consistently remember what it was we were fighting about, and my homegirl in the other bed had to keep getting up and running interference, deftly explaining to each of us what we as well as the other person are doing wrong, probably less out of pure kindness and more out of at least a bit of rational calculation like “if I can socially engineer the fighting out of these two fuckheads I love but can’t stand right now, I can finally sleep.” The girlfriend and I probably broke up with each other ten times throughout the night. We slept gloriously eventually and the next day in New York was beautiful and it was truly as though nothing ever happened even though three times she tried to “take a bath” in a hotel shower that was not remotely a bathtub. Five years later I’m in grad school dating a tiny smokeshow gothy hipster nerd stripper — I don’t know how I managed it ever, really, I was bald as fuck by then and a skinnyfat overstressed drunk — but it was fabulous, we didn’t have a whole lot in common background wise or anything but it was, for a while, a sublime dynamic. The show was Tommy Wright III, and like all ratchet-chic girls, she correctly loved the horror-tinged blown out grit of Memphis style rap. It was at the spot where I met the lady, a sort of quasi-speakeasy hole in the wall club in DC that doesn’t exist anymore, but where I’d ended up, alone in a new city on Halloween when I sidled up next to the alluring aforementioned, who chided me for not wearing a costume. “I live in a closet, I don’t have costume stuff, what are you?” “I’m a slut for Halloween,” she said, wry and earnest. I invited her to my closet of an $800/month room and she stayed for four straight days, smoking weed and reading manga while I put off the mountains of grown up homework I had. Anyway, like two weeks into dating this show comes up, and she wears basically the same little red silky Nothing shirt thing and I’m in a black beret and leather jacket and jump boots. They can’t tell that I’m not *actually* Cool, I assured myself. It had been months of total isolation and School, policy and philosophy, no culture no parties. Tommy’s set was short and a blast. After the show was the more memorable part. She wanted to talk to Tommy but at the same time, I was on a mission to the ATM several blocks away to purchase cocaine for us to inhale. I get back and they’re still talking, her and Tommy Wright, the legend, with the goofy perm hair still. Apparently he’d asked if she’d go with him to his truck and smoke a blunt and she told him no, she had a boyfriend — fuck, I could have hardly blamed her if she took him up on it. But then we hung out with Tommy, mellow and normal and tired seeming. Forgot to mention her friend was there too. Tommy politely declines doing coke with us. The three of us evacuate the baggy of terrible cocaine seemingly in one instant. Girlfriend’s friend wanted to fuck us both, she whispered to girlfriend. I declined. Not sure this answers the prompt but it scratched an itch

@odradek

3d ago

Top Recs from @peach

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@peach

Apr 14, 2024

🛍

Tiny doll house on upper east side

Get ready for big thrills in the smallest scale imaginable. Enter into the only shop in Manhattan that sells exclusively doll house miniatures. Plates of charcuterie, wooden magazine racks and sewing machines that actually work (!) all at a 12 to 1” scale. Also walking distance from Central Park :-)

@peach

Mar 20, 2024

🎵

New Partner by palace music

This one’s for the tender-hearted fools for sure. “You’re always on my miiiiind”

@peach

Mar 19, 2024