God'll take decaf, thank you.
In this week's mail, a guy writes:
"My minister said God said to wait until you get married to have sex..."
Oh, did god drop by your minister's place for a cigarette and an espresso? What else did he whisper in your minister's ear? Was there anything truly useful, like next week's winning lottery numbers, or maybe some news on whether the housing bubble will burst, and, if so, when?
Amy, this photo is exquisite.
Lena-doodle-doo at June 7, 2005 12:07 AM
Oops, photo by Gregg Sutter!
Amy Alkon at June 7, 2005 12:40 AM
God told me it feels good to get f*cked like a dirty bitch when he stopped by for cocktails last week.
alex the sea turtle at June 7, 2005 7:31 AM
God said he loves me just the way I am. He had time to stop by in between preventing a useless war, stopping disease and the suffering in Dufar... oh, wait. That was just in my imagination. My bad. Never happened.
Goddyss at June 7, 2005 11:11 AM
I love how the boxy flatness of the stovefront is set against the spatial depth that's implied by the floor tile. It reminds me of something that Jan Grover once said in an interview about her still-life photographs: her objective was to "fuck up the space."
Sutter is working in the tradition of Grover, who was in turn working in the tradition of Cezanne. A distinguished lineage!
The color and clarity of the late afternoon sun is perfect. It takes me away...
Lena "once an art whore ,always an art whore" Cuisina at June 7, 2005 11:59 AM
Gosh, you use yur tongue purttier than a twenty dollar whore....
eric at June 7, 2005 2:30 PM
Well, it really is a very nice photograph, and well worth a few minutes break from the polemics, yes? Never underestimate the value of good food, good art, and a good boning. That's what I always say.
I say, some European architect is currently having a retrospective downtown at LACMA. I'm sure there'll be something to appeal to the anal personality in all of us. Wanna go this Saturday? Afterward we could have lunch at Patina, or smoke some rock.
Lena Cuisina, the $21.99 Art Whore at June 7, 2005 3:30 PM
Are you asking me? If so, that sounds lovely - provided I can get a little more advance work done on my column than I did this week.
Amy Alkon at June 7, 2005 4:06 PM
I was kidding ya in a Slim Pickens moment- the "art whore" line and all...
eric at June 7, 2005 4:11 PM
Back on subject, I was just perusing the paper when I read an obituary the said "Mathew was called home to God to live in the house of the Heavenly Father...", which is really a nice way of saying he was shot in the face with a shotgun during a drug deal gone bad. He doth work in mysterious ways.
eric at June 7, 2005 4:13 PM
Decaf! Ugh! For *my* sake, quit that!
You don't think I worked for six days straight on that awful stuff, do you?
Hey, and quit complaining about the stuff you people do. You started that war crap, get yourself out of it. I'm still waiting for people to notice that *my* laws can't even be questioned - like gravity, go ahead and try. The other laws are all of Man. That's why they often suck and can be defied.
Huh! Decaf...(thunder)...
God at June 7, 2005 4:50 PM
"The other laws are all of Man."
"Cops don't seem to care
for derelicts and ladies of the night
they're weeds for yanking out of sight
If you're smart or rich or lucky
maybe you'll beat the laws of man
But the inner laws of spirit
and the outer laws of nature
No man can
No -- no man can"
Joni Mitchell
(The Wolf that Lives in Lindsey)
Lena the Boho Chick at June 7, 2005 5:42 PM
Amy -- We could set up shop in the museum and get some work done. There might be some cute guys to look at down there while we're at it. Lena
Lena Cuisina, Unemployed Prostitute at June 7, 2005 5:46 PM
That sounds fab. More later. Via email.
Amy Alkon at June 7, 2005 6:24 PM
I'm not thinking that God is dwelling on what you do with your dick
Lia at June 8, 2005 3:35 AM
If there is a god, why would he or she dwell on what you do with your dick? So amazing how humans anthropomorphize god, and are not only sure there actually is a god, sans evidence, bien sur, but think they no the guy like Bob Jones next door.
Amy Alkon at June 8, 2005 5:03 AM
Most believers talk about god like he's a really petty moral accountant keeping tabs on everyone, diligently updating the naughty and nice columns in his voluminous ledger. Maybe he'd feel better if he tranferred all that data into an Excel file?
Lena-doodle-doo at June 8, 2005 6:59 AM
What's with the field trip to LACMA? If you guys aren't careful you'll have some geeky chick (me)hovering about hoping to stave off a starvation for colorful bits of witty conversation. Except I'm off to Dallas this weekend....
diana at June 8, 2005 1:59 PM
Actually, Leaner, turns out I can't LAC that day, because I have the LA Press Club awards thingie at 6pm at the Roosevelt or someplace.
Amy Alkon at June 8, 2005 2:12 PM
The Roosevelt? I had great sex there one night on the floor of an empty conference room. Come to think of it, Amy, you were there at a party in the lobby at the time.
lena at June 8, 2005 2:37 PM
Actually, God did have everything in an Excel database on a cheap PC XT until Anderson Consulting sent me to his office in 1989 to move it all to a DB2 database on a really big IBM MVS 370 system. Really big. It was cool, since I got to "accidentally" delete all of my crap (like the time I jammed a lima bean up my sister's nose). The thing about God is that He has this huge fer'gunkin' office but he's *never there*. Big mucky-muck office chair, huge hebrew-engraved granite desk with little short chairs in front so all his visitors feel small and have to look up at him during meetings. Big goddam Chagall on the wall, too. And he didn't care what I did with my dick, actually, because he was never there.
I overbilled like crazy. Nice gig while it lasted.
tonecluster at June 9, 2005 6:15 PM
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