August 2011
22 posts
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“Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the...”
– Vonnegut
from God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater
Another new segment on this blog that I like to call “Venerating Vonnegut.” (Did you just roll your eyes at me, Internet? Rude! There are only so many words that begin with V, you know, and I do enjoy a good alliteration. Or a bad one, for...
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Written After A Triumphant Fight
I’m the baddest girl in the world I’m as bad as Super Fly and I don’t need coke to get me high. I can beat you, Jack and you better get back when the Vega’s come around. We’ll kick your ass, and make it last, I got evil eye, and you sure gotta try to put me on the ground. I don’t play, hey, you know what I say when I say it or pay. I can stare you down, make you crawl on the ground. I’m action, no...
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WatchFrom The Office UK. How I watch this clip:
1. Video loads. Already pissing my pants laughing in anticipation.
2. Watch the video. David appears. Die of laughter.
3. Resurrect myself, because I am Rory Williams.
4. Repeat. Oh dear LORD, why is this so funny to me?
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a song with no end
(by charles bukowski, my king)
when Whitman wrote, “I sing the body electric”
I know what he meant I know what he wanted:
to be completely alive every moment in spite of the inevitable.
we can’t cheat death but we can make it work so hard that when it does take us
it will have known a victory just as perfect as ours.
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building
The more attention I give to InTransit (eleven pieces of writing currently in editing mode, yeah!), the more eager I become to regularly update and maintain this blog. HelloKasia began back when I was still in high school, but for the first time in a while, I’m building it up. Many reblogs to come. Many drafts saved. (Too many Bukowski poems drafted, too many Vonnegut quotes queued.) Some...
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“They’re fucking gross, man. Look, I love beautiful girls too. I think everyone...”
– Amy Poehler, on American Apparel ads [x] (via yoshirobinson)
Right now I’m more of a Liz Lemon, but one day I hope to be wise and kind enough to become a Leslie Knope or an Amy Poehler.
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There and Back Again: Kasia's Life In Transit:... →
kasiaintransit:
I grew up in the House of Languages.
“Languages,” plural. On our bookshelves, you’ll find five different versions of Le Petit Prince in four different languages—that is, four different ways to say, “L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.” These are scattered within the House, among…
I’ve been working hard on my new study abroad blog (holla, Cambridge) now that my UK...
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one of those good poems
(by Deborah Garrison)
Worked Late on a Tuesday Night
Again. Midtown is blasted out and silent, drained of the crowd and its doggy day. I trample the scraps of deli lunches some ate outdoors as they stared dumbly or hooted at us career girls—the haggard beauties, the vivid can-dos, open raincoats aflap in the March wind as we crossed to and fro in front of the Public Library.
Never thought...
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“‘Baby,’ I said, ‘I’m a genius but nobody knows it but me.’”
– Charles Bukowski (via literaryheartbeat)
Oh Bukowski, you and your honesty and your Polish name and your deliciously vulgar words… when I think of the Brutal Good, I think of you.
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Tape Club →
ALSO, among other goodies that have caught my eye today: The world must be notified that the Ozarks’ best—Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin (yes, a band)—will soon release an album full of demos and previously unreleased songs. They’ve named it Tape Club, and not only is it currently streaming online, but it’s fantastic! Click click, friends!
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WatchWhen I tell people that I’m not really patriotic, I may just as well have told them that I gave birth to the great orange Snooki-Monster. And then they usually attribute it to: “Oh, well, you’re not really from this country…” Actually, I have double citizenship, and I’ve spent most of my life growing up in the United States. So I maybe I should have some sort of...
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In Praise of Naps
wwnorton:
“I began taking ambitious naps around the time of Bart’s diagnosis. After eventful and uneventful high school days: a nap. Before stomping boozily through town on a Friday night: a nap. Saturday and Sunday mornings: a nap not long after waking. Half of my college years and adulthood: napped away. About sleep I was a fascist, though lacking a flag. Even the lightest snowfall could...
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