Friday, June 30, 2006

what the fuck

i just went downstairs to drop off the rent at 3:26 am like normal people do and the trap door to the attic is totally ajar. TOTALLY AJAR.

there is no lock in between the stairs and my apartment. NO LOCK.

i wonder if moonface has been coming into my apartment while i'm gone and feeding salami to my dogs so when he decides to kill me they will not intervene. like i will be screaming and locking myself in the bathroom and the dogs will be all WHAT'S UP FRIEND! GOT ANY SAUSAGES?


there really is a phantom dog up there with moonface. MOONFACE AND HIS EXPLODING DOG MIGHT ACTUALLY LIVE IN THE ATTIC. shit.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

tell me more tell me more was it love at first sight

taking the blue line to work fucking sucks. i mean yeah one time i was reading the soft machine on there and ended up having a twenty minute conversation about william s burroughs with a recent incarnate of sammy davis junior but all the other days i end up standing in a fat man's armpit getting hit by the doors every time they open. and i can not justify paying four dollars a day for this. so i got an old bike out of my parents basement and made BIG PLANS to start riding my awesome new 1968 schwinn collegiate to work every day and i got a bike lock and some new brake pads and everything and then i never rode to work. that was like two weeks ago.

and then yesterday i was looking at the fucking pink sparkly helmet my mom bought me that is still sitting in the box it came in and i wondered AM I SCARED TO RIDE MY BIKE THROUGH DOWNTOWN CHICAGO? because i am not scared to do anything. so today i rode my bike to work and it was fucking awesome.

i wore a skirt because i didn't want to get my pants stuck in the gear and smash onto the street and get run over by a yellow cab. riding a bike in a skirt is fucking delightful.

i am not even supposed to work on friday but i might come in anyway just so i can ride my bike over here. SCHWING!

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

what is wrong with me

usually when i am walking around outside i think about weird shit to see if i can scare the fuck out of myself like the other day i saw this wheelchair guy like a block ahead of me sitting in front of his house and i'm like woah how fucked up would it be if that guy didn't even need a wheelchair and he was just sitting there waiting for someone to walk past so he could jump up and sneak attack them and stick a needle in their arm and sit them in his wheelchair and wheel them off to his torture chamber or whatever and then i thought about what i would look like all drugged out and drooling sitting in this dudes wheelchair of death. anyway then i walked past him and he said hi to me and i almost had a heart attack even though i see this guy every day and i'm pretty sure he is not out to sneak attack kill me.

i wonder if it is normal to work yourself up all bad on purpose to see if you can induce a chemical fear response in your brain. i am guessing i am not entirely alone here.

anyway my new thing is that moonface is living in the attic because last time et was here she heard a phantom dog coming from upstairs. i hear that shit all the time but i thought it was because i am crazy. so i spent about an hour today pretending that moonface was in the attic. then i came home and i couldn't find the broom and i started fucking freaking out completely like OH MY GOD MOONFACE IS IN THE APARTMENT AND HE IS GOING TO BLUDGEON ME TO DEATH WITH THE PLASTIC PHILLIPE STARK BROOM HANDLE. and then i had to look in all the rooms and make sure no one was in them. i actually did that. also while i was doing it i was totally freaked out like so what the fuck if someone is in here i find them and then what they stab me in the face?

man i am so fucking good at manipulating my emotions that one day i am probably going to push myself over the edge and i am never going to come back.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

welcome back kotter

jessica came home from brasil today and gave me a whole bag of shit. that i actually liked. that is how you can tell people aren't total idiots because they buy you shit that you like and not shit that they like. even though i am one of those idiots like where i get my brother a bret easton ellis book AND THE MOVIE for christmas and i am like oh my god i am a gift giving genius and then he is like uh thanks i guess. and then i remember my brother might not even know how to read. sorry i am trying to give the gift of making people more like me aka awesome.

also the gift i give everyone is welcome to the monkey house and then they think i was actually paying attention when they said they loved kurt vonnegut that one time. um no probably i was thinking about my cuticles when you said that. and duh everyone likes kurt vonnegut.

if anybody would like to buy me any really thoughtful gifts i am in the market for sweatbands. for my head.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

listen to me talk about absolutely nothing

i have the fucking gayest job ever. it involves conference calls and shit TELECOMMUTING so i'm sure you can imagine how stupid it is.

i have to write shit and then talk on the phone to people about it. not interesting shit either. and then the people i am talking to, i swear.

i took a lot of notes during this very important telecommute. such as HOW IN THE FUCK COULD THIS TAKE SO LONG and I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF.

and then i am like WHAT WHAT I CAN'T HEAR YOU WHAT DID YOU SAY WHAT? then i remembered how when my dad can't hear something i said which is like all the fucking time he goes 'pardon?' and i practically feel my heart breaking every time he says it for some reason. like even right now thinking about it. probably my brain is wired wrong or something because i probably shouldn't be having emotional reactions to the word pardon but then when my grandma dies or something i'm like 'woah that sucks. oh shit we are out of salami!'

this is seriously the kind of shit i was thinking about during this conference call. and then i am like 'oh shit we are out of salami!'??? I AM SO FUNNY and then i start laughing and i try to cover it up by pretending i am having a coughing fit and then i'm like WAIT WHAT?

for some reason when i try to do grown up activities like have conference calls or go to weddings or whatever it is really hard for me to not burst out laughing at nothing.

also i should love this job because they pay me to do basically nothing like last week i got paid for 20 hours of doing basically nothing and then i got paid for 20 more hours of doing actually nothing. and then i still hate this job anyway which tells me that i was not made to work. i bet if i started getting paychecks for getting drunk i would be like GETTING DRUNK IS SO HARD I CAN NOT TAKE THIS.

actually that is not entirely a joke they have studies where they pay a bunch of little kids to do something they were doing anyway and then the kids are like man this sucks lets find a way to get out of it.

obligations, man.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

her dad was at the wedding.

i knew what he looked like because one day we were walking home from school smoking cigarettes and pushing each other into the street and there was a minivan trailing us for four blocks. oh! she said. that's my dad! and she jumped in the van and i stood there smoking my cigarette thinking about how now i had a face to put with the name i saw on my caller id. phillip. because he never bothered to cancel with at&t when he took off to sacremento. i would like to move to california, he said. i am tired of chicago. i am tired of the cold. and then the next day he was gone. i am tired of this family. he was in town for her brother's graduation.

i saw him at the deli the next day. he looks just like her. i felt like i should say something. you don't know who i am but i know who you are.

i met your daughter at a yard sale when i was nine, i could say. she bought some of my books. i could tell him she has a scar at the nape of her neck from scalding herself in the showers after swim class. right where her orange hair fades into strawberry blond. you know the spot, i could say. of course he wouldn't though.

i was watching him at the wedding. he was smiling. he took so many pictures.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

and i made it all the way through the nineties never having done the electric slide

i went to a muslim wedding this weekend and spent a lot of time in the parking lot smoking cigarettes and drinking vodka out of the bottle. the girl getting married used to get drunk and combative and rip off all her clothes and run through the woods naked and throw up on herself and sleep outside. one time we got in a fight on a fire escape. hair pulling happened. so anyway she is married now.

we used to go to book fairs and buy vc andrews novels for fifty cents and mark the pornographic parts for each other. we got sent home from work for discussing abortions while making waffles for a bunch of rich people. rich people never have abortions and if they did they would never discuss it over brunch.

one time we found this couch in the alley behind an abandonned building and we decided we were going to live in it. we stuffed a bunch of our shit in the cushions and sat around on it smoking cigarettes all day long. we might have ditched school and taken naps on it during second period.

that is not something married people do. take naps in the alley. married people do not discuss abortions and hangovers. married people discuss logistics all day long with their spouses and then later when they talk to you they discuss how annoying it is to discuss logistics all day long with their spouses. then they discuss their great new technique for scrambling eggs in an espresso machine.

when you are married, i said, i am still going to get way to drunk at your house and lay around in your bed all day the next day. and when you have kids i am going to say the eff word in front of them all the time. it's okay. i'll probably also teach them how to read.

i went to a muslim wedding this weekend. i don't believe you are the first to get married i said. and everyone agreed with me. yeah we thought erin would be the first. WHAT. why a person who doesn't like routines and doesn't like sharing would be the first to get married i have no idea. if i ever get married when it is my turn to say i do i am going to be lying. i am going to be wondering if i should get the whole thing annulled after.

i went to a wedding this weekend. it was a nice wedding. i did the electric slide.

Monday, June 19, 2006

suck it bitch

that's what i say to at&t.

remember that girl i used to live with? who had a blog you never read and it said shit about what is the point of me facing life when i can lay around and eat chocolate all day? i don't live with that girl anymore. i found this out when i came home one day and all her shit was gone.

and then also the phone was disconnected and i had to pay forty dollars to turn it back on so that was pretty awesome.

and then i didn't have the internet which was also pretty awesome especially because i am working from home and almost got fired for it. because they wanted to get me a pager and i'm like UH NO and they're like WELL WE HAVE TO THINK OF SOME WAY THAT WE CAN REACH YOU. yeah like i am going to walk around with a pager clipped onto me YEAH RIGHT.

so then for like five days i kept calling at&t and telling them that my phone wasn't working and they were like 'it will be on tomorrow' and i was like 'okay but i don't believe you because you guys have been telling me that for the past three days' and then they're like 'no it will be on tomorrow' and then they ask if you are satisfied with the way they handled your call and you're like 'uh i guess' and then it doesn't come on tomorrow and then you call and talk to a different dude and he's like 'would you say you were extremely satisfied with the quality of service i have provided you with during this phonecall?' and you are like 'uh NO because i believe you are LYING TO ME.'

also they say stupid shit like 'try unplugging all the phones and plugging them back in maybe it will work then.' okay i try to solve problems like this all the time. like oh my computer isn't working? maybe if i turn it on and off ten times really fast it will start working again. but seriously even i know that if i unplug and plug back in my phone it is not going to do shit.

and then they are like well miss obviously the problem is in the house. and they can send somebody to come fix it but for some reason they totally try to discourage you from having a repairman come out like 'well are you sure you want that because it is SEVENTY ONE DOLLARS AND TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS FOR EACH 15 MINUTES AND THEN ALSO THE COST OF MATERIALS.' and i'm like uh no i don't want to pay that but obviously i am not going to wait for my phone to start working by magic.

but anyway the repair guy was fucking awesome and totally gave me all the sweet deals on cheap repairs. so now i have the internet and shit. and also a new phone number. AGAIN. i have had like five phone numbers this year. it's awesome.

if i worked at one of those customer service over the phone places and some girl called me like why doesn't my phone work i'd be like probably because at&t fucking sucks dick, dude. and then i would be like hey want me to waive all your fees? and then i would go on a 40 minute smoke break.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

binary star

i wish i knew what song this was but i don't have speakers here. ALAS!

Get this video and more at
also i have no idea if you can hear me screaming in this video but i'm pretty sure i was screaming and yelling pretty fucking loud while my brother was taking this video. so yeah maybe now you know what my voice sounds like when i'm screaming or something.

blah blah i'm bored

i think i'm manic.

i am talking to a robot on the phone right now. like it's seriously interacting with me. oh god.

i went to a fucking awesome show with my brother on friday we drove seven hours to see it and it was FUCKING AWESOME like jumping up and down screaming for two straight hours awesome. like didn't even leave the floor for five minutes to get a drink awesome. then we drove home. i drank a lot of coffee.

yikes i just tried to find a picture of this crazy smasher thing by googling a bunch of shit and i saw the most fucking disturbing thing of my life. google 'construction machine' at your own risk. google images or whatever. please tell me why in the fuck the second image under 'construction machine' is a picture of a guy with his entire face ripped off.

my brother brought his ipod. I AM CAPTIAN RADIO! i said. we listened to a lot of pigeon john. HEY ERIC DID YOU KNOW PIGEON JOHN IS DATING YOUR SISTER? I'M FUNNY HAHAHAHAHAH.

one time when he was like four he was mad at me and he took a giant peice of styrofoam and wrote HA HA YOU ARE SO FUNNY HA HA HA on it and he kept holding it up at me and wouldn't talk. what a fucking sarcastic four year old. thank god he got to bask in my awesomeness during his formative years i guess.

one day maybe a guy will write 'HA HA SO FUCKING HILARIOUS' on his arm and clothesline me with it. then i will fall in love with him.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

now we are all sons of bitches

once i had a godfather who didn't believe in god. i don't believe in god either. one christmas he sent me cats cradle and franny and zooey. he is a doctor not a medical doctor but a doctor of philosophy like i am going to be one day. he is underemployed like i am going to be one day. he works in a library and less smart people say things like why the hell is he wasting his life away stacking books? one day someone, an old roommate's wife probably, will ask her husband the same question about me. she was smart it's a shame she never did anything with her life. doesn't she have her phd? she will look up from her crate and barrel catalouge and say that.

once i had a godfather who lived in a dilapidated house in college town usa. he had walls of records and very many cats. he had a best friend who died on his motorcycle on new years eve. he had a wife who left him and a girlfriend who left him. he made me coffee and asked me if i did drugs. i was nine. don't be afraid to try things, he said.

once i had parents. they didn't believe in god either but they tried to hide it from me, probably so i wouldn't grow up into the kind of person i grew up into. they wanted me to live up to my potential. all my life i resisted living up to my potential.

the thing i remember most about childhood was hiding my failures from my parents. waiting for the mail. forgeing signatures on things. ten times a day. you will not amount to anything in life if you do not start living up to your potential. my potential to do what? you will not Get In To Collge. woe is me.

i was in high school in the nineties when educators were trying to level the playing field by making effort count for pretty much everything. but i got a perfect score on the test, i said, why does it matter if i never showed up for class? teachers do not like when you say these things. i barely graduated high school but Get In To College i did due to extraordinary test scores.

if i was on a college board of admissions i would seriously question the combination of extraordinarily high test scores and devestatingly low grades. basically what this says to me is that this person has a high intellect but is totally unmotivated and or has no respect for authority. i don't want to go to college, i said. but my parents told me i was going and i went. and failed out immediately. somehow they didn't see that coming.

i worked at a gas station and paid rent. i was 18. i smoked my roommates cigarette butts out of the ash tray and invented about twenty different recipes involving ramen. i worked with a forty year old lady named heidi. she was once a welder and her face was pockmarked. she wore shorts and flirted with the assistant manager. she scared the fuck out of me. i went back to college.

and i did well. i lived up to my potential. i learned things. i had a creative writing class where all we did was write short stories and discuss them. i never missed a class. really everyone hated my stories but my professor wrote things on them like 'brilliant' and 'this is publishable.' of course i never had any of them published. there was only so much living up to my potential that i could take.

i studied during the day and snorted blow all night. i drank a lot of cheap beer. i slept in and went to class at noon. i worked the mid shift at the gas station. i was robbing them blind. life is beautiful.

i panicked when i realized i was going to graduate. i applied for graduate school. my degree was in psychology. i never wanted to be a psychologist. i just liked studying it. i never wanted to be anything. when i was little and my mom asked me what i was going to do with my miserably failed life i would shrug and tell her maybe i'll walk to california. it's warm there. she scoffed at me. that would take forever. i won't have anything else to do. my mom started predicting that i would be a miserable failure at life when i was about eleven years old.

i loved graduate school for the first year. i was made for it. i loved the fact that i could remember everything i read and i didn't have to study and i could write fantastic first drafts that didn't require revisions. i resisted starting my thesis for three years. i still have not started my thesis. everyone was so pleased that i was living up to my potential that they failed to see that what i was actually doing was making a desperate attempt to delay the inevitable.

i am not living up to my potential. i was never living up to my potential. i don't even know what that means. can someone please tell me what that means?

lets be real for a moment. if you ask me what i will do with this degree, in this CAREER (and i never wanted anything to do with CAREERS) i will tell you I AM GOING TO WRITE A TEST THAT WILL BE SO PHENOMENAL I WILL NEVER HAVE TO WORK. I WILL SIT AROUND ALL DAY AND COLLECT THE CHECKS. hello. these are the goals of a person who has no goals.

fuck. at the risk of sounding grandiose let's ask kenneth bainbridge what he has to say about living up to one's potential.

maybe one day we will all live up to our potential to be happy.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

i wrote this yesterday

how much life can i take.

i can't sleep anymore. last night i slept at probably about 5am. and woke up at 9am. and laid there and stared at nothing and found a copy of on the road laying around and read fifty pages of it or so.

now it is 4am and i am trying to do work because i can't sleep and i am bored of staring at the walls so long i start to see things. where is the test plan i wrote? i think i grabbed a bunch of paper and wrote it on there and then later i took the whole stack of paper and started to write a story on it. and then lost the stack of paper. and then i found a journal i kept in high school and started writing test plans in that. oh wait i think i filed the paper with all the other paper in my filing cabinet called the floor. i have a really sophisticated filing technique that basically consists of throwing a bunch of paper all over the floor and tricking myself into believing i will be able to figure it out later. my awesome filing technique where every peice of paper in the house is laying on the floor next to the computer. oh look here is a picture i drew of myself laying on the floor waiting to die. 'might as well lay down on the floor and wait to die' it says. thank god this is here i don't think i could write my test without it. it is truly motivational.

why not? why not lay down on the floor and wait to die. file me under totally apathetic.

how come all the really smart people i know are the ones who can barely function as productive members of society? i could be happy sitting in a laundry basket in my closet thinking of all the things i think about for seven hours but then give me a bunch of mundane bullshit to do and i'm like HEY WHY DON'T YOU JUST GIVE ME A SCREWDRIVER SO I CAN JAM IT THROUGH MY RIGHT EYE, THANKS. maybe it is all the acronyms. maybe it is the little silhouettes of men and women in the power point presentation. they want to steal my soul i think.

i want to get a job at a library. i will stick some earphones in my ears and shelve books and maybe i can find a nice little place to hide and read. the flourescent lights in the library don't give me strokes the way the ones in my cubicle do.

if i wrote dreams i would write one for myself about a girl sitting in a cubicle and everything has this weird green cast to it like how they have for interrogation rooms or sweatshops in the movies and the flourescent lights are flickering and she has to press her fingers against her eyelid to keep it from twitching and she hears a crack and she looks up and the plastic from the light is cracking but it is cracking slowly and she is watching it and suddenly an army of tiny little power point business men and women silhouettes comes pouring out and they fall on top of her and stuff their little brief cases in her nose and mouth and ears and there are thousands of them and she can't breathe. then i would wake up.


i saw two fat little blond girls carrying kate spade purses buying carl hiassen novels at borders today. i am guessing ten years old.

i am not sure how i feel about this but i know i feel something.

Sunday, June 04, 2006


et says: i am going to make a questionaire for you. application to date you.

et says: would you have sex with me behind a dumpster?

et says: and would you have sex with me behind a dumpster.

erin mastermind says: yeah that pretty much sums it up.

et says: would you drink out of a warm forty?

et says: would you eat day old pizza out of a car?

erin mastermind says: bonus points if you would eat day old pizza out of the garbage.

et says: do you wash your sheets?

erin mastermind says: wait we do or don't want them to wash their sheets?

et says: no you like guys that don't wash their sheets.

erin mastermind says: it is great to hear what you think of me.

erin mastermind says: i guess i don't wash my sheets either though.

et says: you don't even have sheets. dude you are kind of a disaster.

erin mastermind says: I AM NOT A DISASTER!

et says: yes you are.

erin mastermind says: NO I AM NOT. wait, how so?

et says: i don't know. like you you never go to work and your cell phone is shut off all the time. and you have fleas and are quitting school.

erin mastermind says: wow i guess i actually am a disaster. fuck.

et says: i mean you're not a total disaster.

erin mastermind says: yes. yes i am. thanks for letting me know i guess.

kill my landlord

tyrone green wants to kill my landlord.

abbie hoffman wants to kill my landlord.

fidel castro wants to kill my landlord.

dr. seuss wants to kill my landlord.

lets blow anthrax down the vents and kill all of our landlords.

that is the chorus of a song i just wrote. as you can see it is about standing up to the man.

Friday, June 02, 2006


i just got a nice little typed up letter from my landlord.

erin, i am very sorry, it says. but you are going to have to find a new home for miete. MY DOGS NAME IS MIETTE WITH TWO TEES IT IS FRENCH COME ON YOU FAT CANADIAN WHORE I THOUGHT YOU FUCKERS SPOKE FRENCH THERE.

i just found out that my homeowner's insurance policy will not permit pit bulls on the premises without a very expensive extra policy, it says. IS THIS REALLY MY FAULT THAT SHE LACKED KNOWLEDGE OF HER OWN INSURANCE POLICY WHEN I MOVED IN SEVEN MONTHS AGO???

what the fuck. now i have to go research on my tenants rights when i already have two stupid jobs right now that i hate and that are totally taking over my life and making me want to kill myself. i don't have time for this shit. maybe i should just kill the landlord.

tony told me i should jill off before writing. probably that was some sage advice i should have taken.

anybody in chicago want a roomate? hey pants, want to move to chicago and be homeless and live under a bridge with me?
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