A Wednesday Whateva.

We don’t wanna play by the rules.
We want a pet bear that duals
As a keyboardist, guitarist,
And non-judgemental friend.
He will sit and drink with us,
Tell tall tales and pretend.
We might smoke a joint together,
Or perhaps do a fun drug.
We will listen to music together
Knit mittens, cut a rug.
We will be the best of friends,
Us and the bear.
He will give us a five with his paw,
And the best bear hug anywhere.

*f

It's Not. It's Just Not.

life is not a dress rehearsal.
life is not a dress rehearsal.
LIFE IS NOT A DRESS REHEARSAL.

we just figured this out. it took us 24 years, but
this is fuckin' it, man. oh, and we realized this too,
recently. we realized that we don't know much, but
we know this much is true: all you need to be happy
is champagne flowers cupcakes dresses sex girl-
friends puppies and good hair.

the end.

champagne is the new black,
*f

Our Other Job.

alas

you were born

to have a

fabulous

challenging

ribald

sexy as hell life.

fuck 'em up.

*f

Chew On This.

you say: "write more I am bored"

we say: can't right now (THE F#*$ING RECESSION!!!)

oh lord.

we sigh, we slouch, we eat only bread and butter.
we stretch, we groan, we are going quite nutter.
the gas bills' due.
our rents' too f$*#ing high.
we'd like to booze and sit pretty
all day long...
under the bloomy Chicago sky...
but we can't
and we won't
not till things are taken care of.

'cause we are woebegone over job woes.
and we wrestle with pathless job fauxs'
and we need a hair change.
and a breath mint.

we've got a case of the snifflin' sneezies
and a pasty white lack of tan-ness.
(you can add 'ness' to anything)
and we're worried about the middle east.
we're worried about the warming trend.
we're worried about our grandpa
and our papa and the happiness
of all women, kids, puppies, and men.

and for those that struggle and grapple
for help and for those that need a boost
or a hug and lay in grief on the bathroom
rug. we worry we worry. and mostly we
scurry around in the minutiae of
everyday hurry.

so you see, we have littler time to write.
obviously no time to vent. or stare.
or wonder what in sweet gravy we should
do next in this atmosphere.

but we will be back, all in good time.
if our words were dollars, we'd be
pretty damn fine.
just stick with us like harold and
kumar. like snoop and dre. rob and
big. you get the picture....coming soon
our radio show: peg, frances, & pretty little skib.**

*f & j

**does anyone know anyone in radio. seriously.

Springter

can we just be very clear about something.

crystal clear. pepsi clear. beverly cleary.

WE ARE CONFUSED.

you know why, don't you.

HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW

whether it's mitten weather.

leather boot weather.

sunny with gusts up to 2000 mph.

or breezy with a side of tornadoes.

everyday lately, we go out with our cheetah

fur mittens on (FAKE) and our triple-lined

waterproof weatherproof 'skimo coat

and we come back just glistening and ready

to jump in the lake! where is the how-to

people, where is it?? or of course the 

opposite happens. we go out sans coat

when we spot the sun and lo and becold

we came back with icicles for teeth

and snow cones for boobs.  and sometimes

we wanna lay down and retire by the fire 

but we don't have a fire. just candles.

WE ARE NOT FINISHED.

because let us tell you something else 

we are confused about.

WE ARE LOOKING FOR A JOB.

but not just any job.

ONE THAT DOESN'T SUCK.

and furthermore

ONE THAT DOESN'T HAVE A BOSS

OR REQUIRE TIMELINESS

OR MAKE US FILE OR COPY THINGS.

and it's hard to find but another

thing we find is hard is find, we 

just can't

won't

refuse

to work 

in a building

that is ugly

or gray on the interior

or without windows

and it presents a problem that buildings

such as the one below literally prevent

us from ever considering a job

that may be magic flowers and pineapple

cakes and peace signs, the whole bit.

what to do! jump ship, join the navy?

teach spanglish? 

invent?

ugh!

*f

Ode To My Fran

There are those people who make life fun.
There are those people,
those few sweet people,
who dream big with you,
fight little with you,
and make every day more interesting.

They make you giggle in the middle of a board meeting,
just thinking about that one joke
they told you two weeks ago.

They bring you hip magazines
when you least expect it but most need a writing boost.
They make you laugh when you want to cry,
they send you love letters in the mail
on a random Tuesday in December,
and they whisper through movies with you.

They decided anarchy is the new black.
All they want to be is a modern day Marie.
And they love you no matter what you think,
how you look
or whose music you're into.

*j

Sweet Nothings

We want to make these for all our dearies and all our kinda-sortas and all our strangers. We want to toss them and mail them and give them and leave them in strange public places for people to find and unwrap and have a giggle.

But we want to make them happy thoughts. Love thoughts and funny thoughts and obsessively joyous thoughts that stick with you through the depths of your worst days. Because what is the use of making something if there is no one to enjoy it?

Err, well lookie what we have here. We have us going against the grain of Sir Vonnegut's very thoughts, his very core of ideas that he lectured and sang and loved about for all those years of his life. Vonnegut said we should make art for art's sake. He said we should create for the act of creating, and after we've created we should destroy what we've blossomed up without telling a world-wide soul about it. Because that is what creating is about.

But damn, how could we not share the gem below, compliments of our girl over at Oh Happy Day?


Ali Hill, via Oh Happy Day

Oh well. Maybe we'll ruminate on Kurt's teachings another day, with another dollar. But this one's on making us some pretty-ditty thoughts and asking Kinko's to print 'em off on big old sheets for our friends and our lovers and our strangers, all the world over.

What are you going to create today?

*j

A Brand New Da-ee-ayyy!

art love, via ali loves curtis

It's good to have dreams. We, at least, need something to strive for, to keep us going. Yes, waking up knowing we're loved and that we have others to love does make us feel all warm inside and out. But beyond that, on a micromanagement day-to-day level, it gives us an extra sparkly oomph to have goals. Maybe they're realistic, maybe they're less-than. But either we have 'em and we have 'em in spades...

So let's go traveling, and not worry about a dime.
Let's go rafting, and not worry about an accident.
Let's explore somewhere new
and let's write something true.

What are your dreams, pumpkin pies?


*j

We'll Cook Your Brains Out

Click here for the coolest gift idea EVA.


*j

2 Cents Thursday

our dream girl.



our dreamboat.



our dream us.


Who are we, if not our style?


*j

photo love

Don't Let the Man Getchya Down

photo love

From the first moment Bonnie slides her girly-girl pearly-painted fingers along Clyde's gun barrel, we were hooked. Really now, is there any sexier coupling in movie history than Front Row-dressed Southern-swirling Bonnie & Clyde?

And yea we knowso, everybody lurves these two - it's so eeeasy. But what we especially love, beyond the sexual innuendos and the fabulosity clothes (seriously, she was rocking flats decades before Sofia or Scarlett) and the easy-breezy accents, is how all Bonnie really wants - we mean really radically wants - in the whole wide whimsical world is to get outta Dodge.

Right when they meet, he pegs her right smack-dab for the daydreamin' waitress she is, hatin' her job every day she walks in to all the questions and needs and responsiblities. And he pegs himself oh-so-prettily as the Man-hatin' renegade he is. The guys who's sure as sugar not against the people. He doesn't want to steal or kill from anyone that crosses his path. His aim is to take from the big guys (probably wearing suspenders, don't you think?) and... well, not give to the small ones, a la Robin Hood, but more like take for himself and his girl Bonnie.

Ohh, yes, we heart 'em alright.

And let's not even get started on Bon-Bon's haircut. Swoon.


*j

Boot Up & Rock Out. Word.

photo love, via ffffound

If we could have any old thing in the world right on this very night, we are sure as honeysuckle that it would be a pair of cowgirl boots, beat up and rock 'n roll as can be. They're a little bit anarchy, a little bit pumpkin pie, and a whole lotta girly fun.

How do you monkeys rock out? Do tell, do tell...


*j

We Are Our Own Queen Bees

photo love

Oh, how our hearts have been broken and have broken others'. There have been so many. Many real, more imaginery. Some ended in heartbreak, though most waned and wheezed of mere distraction. We cannot quite recall the full list, perhaps because we cast aside so many, so indifferently, and on occasion, them of us.

But at the end of everything, we have ourselves, and the ones we keep close, the ones who have not broken our hearts, or us theirs. So yes, we keep them close, and we keep ourselves closer. Because don't we make these rules in our play?

Oh yes, oh yes! And we also make the costume decisions, and we certainly set the scenes. So let's pretty please vow to always make for a fun ol' play in this little ol' life inside our little ol' lady brains.

*j

Just Push Play.

3 Life is to be lived.

If you have to support yourself

you had bloody well better 

find some way that is going 

to be interesting and you 

don't do that by sitting around 4 
-the one and only katharine hepburn

A Ghost, a Tranny & a Family Have a Picnic

Do you get scared of the dark? Do you turn off your bedroom light and then - quick! - run to bed before they get you? Do you hold your breath when the lights go out anytime anywhere, and look around you (at nothing) in a paranoid fervor until they come back on?

Then this commercial is for you.* Straight outta Sylvania, and a shout-out to VSL for letting us in on the delight of it.

Enjoy. ;)

*j

*This commercial is also for you if you like to laugh. Or you like ghosts. Or you like cool fantastical creatures. Or transvestites. Or all of the above. Or none of the above.

Happy Friday, Ya Cheeky Parrots!

photo love

"Okay, I got a great idea, let's all get drunk!"
-Steve Sanders, 9-0 season 3

Okay, so we know what Steve's doing... What's errbody else up to? Besides speaking like gansta rappers while simultaneously browsing JCrew.com, we will be babysitting and moving, respectively. Come on, lads and lassies, we wanna know what's happening in the wonderful world of F&J readers this winter weekend....

*j

We Will Rock You (And Throw Binders at You)

art love shout-out to the ever-clever I Always Wanted to Be a Tenenbaum. Us too, Ian, us too.

*

Ho, ho! How clever! How simple! How true! We personally never have our trusty 3-ring binder out of reach in times of shitstorms, but our bag of flaxseed has worked wonders on our enemies's faces, balls, ears, and other body parts as well. We would, however, like to add the following to our stock of standby weaponry that should, if not already, be used in any Kung-Fu or otherwise sketch-city situation:

*

-cat litter

-Chinese Laundry high heels

-hair balls

-bricks

-your mom

What's in your arsenal, ya cheese monkeys?

*

*

*j

A Tuesday Truth.

crib love

sometimes all we wanna do
is live in the tiniest yellow house
surround ourself with the
tiniest most lovely puppies
drape ourselves in jewels
no clothes
chanel no.5
eat bonbons
drink champy
little cheeseburgers
little diet cokes
strum on our little pink guitar
go drinkin' at the local bar
every night
in our red cowgirl boots and dress
dancin'
one watermelon margarita for me
one watermelon margarita for you
another for me
another for me
another for me
whoopsies tipsy!
and never get cramps again.

the end.

*f & j

A Tuesday Truth

photo love, via swissmiss

We are so totally loving this look right now. Because ya know those rad-as-hay chicks who walk around town knowing what they want and who they are? The waiter asks them for their order and they don't skip a bippity-beat. They laugh loudly, they wink at strangers and they do what their pretty little hearts desire. They wear red cowgirl boots and kick up the dust as they pass on by.

This screams it for us. So get it, dearies. And put on some shiny red lip gloss while you're at it.


*j

A Tuesday Truth; a joint collaboration.

Do something
everyday
that
scares
you,
Muthafucka.

-eleanor mofo frances rigby roosevelt rockefeller bacqbe IV