DUM DUM ZIssue Release party!


I produced this show via Summer Fun Time Society!

Issue 3 Exhibit. Bands. Beer. Readings. Community.Readings from the 3rd Issue by Dummies: D.S. Chun, Liska Jacobs, Taleen Kalenderian, Jessica Garrison, and Michael Stock.R O A M I N G R E A D I N G SLIVE PUNK SETS FROM:
Michael Stock (Part Time Punks), Mahssa (Dublab)
D.M. Collins & Daniel Clodfelter (L.A. Record)

BANDS: Ladyheat, Withers, Luna is Honey, LA Font, Spaceships, & a special performance by DUM DUM’s resident band: TULIPS

More details to follow!


So excited for the show! You can read my article on the website here


FROM THE VAULT #2: Will there be mud in the future?

I like reflecting on things I wrote in the past. And the conclusion is… I think I AM too hard on myself…

It’s also nice to see that I am right on track with “the plan” and I am no longer working as a phone slave at that “fluorescent nightmare.”

Well, an entry seems appropriate right now… because I’m pretty upset… not like crying upset… like… futile upset. Like, no matter what I do it won’t work… life wont work and all I’ll do is sit at home all awkward in a yellow camping chair writing about a fucking yellow camping chair… that’s all I got…. Really that’s IT. If genius comes from misery then I should be belting tight four part harmonies while painting Dali’s lost masterpiece right now. But no. I’m listening to Bollywood funk, avoiding a much needed shower, wanting to rot away into this damn yellow camping chair. At least I’m writing… big fuckin deal… I just beat myself up in these… I mean… due to the eh… what’s the word… oh yeah proof and data collected from previous entries such as, lemme see… I believe the exact words were “just stop it you fucking loser” or bitch… I dunno. I guess I’m a little mean to myself… if I’m not nice to me, who the fuck is going to be.


Ra ra shish boom bah


Rhyming, yay…



Anyway… so I dint get on the team… I’ll take DIFFERENT CLASSES and then get on a better team! With rockets! And uh… a soup buffet… and travel. Or I’ll be a receptionist forever…. God I better not be working as a phone slave when I’m 23… I cannot have two birthdays at that god forsaken fluorescent nightmare… I just need to follow my plan… move out… get  a better job… its all in the plan, no more fucking around. I’ve been spending too much money. I have enough stuff for awhile and should even get rid of some… what is with my fascination of stuff anyway… wtf is wrong with me. I form attachments to the smallest piece of garbage that might have a cool slogan on it or a pretty color or some fantastical sentimental attachment… more beating myself up… whtv… maybe I just appreciate the small things… like, small 


of garbage…


Damn, I am having crazy mood swings…. Maybe I’m going to get my period… fuck, whatever… the sooner it comes the sooner it goes. Its probably all out of wack cause all my friends are on the pill so my hormones gravitate to them… or some science-y bullshit of that manner.


Ok… life plan, here we go, in writing….. er typing… maybe I should physically write this… it would have more sentimental value… ha ha… small joke at my own expense. I just miss my own handwriting sometimes. I wonder if children in the future will even know what their handwriting will look like… will they bother to teach penmanship at all? Is cursive going extinct? Will notebooks, pencils and pens soon become like chiseling words into granite? Probably… haha, then I’ll read this and think of the good old crayon, paint, and mud days


I wonder if they’ll have mud in the future… I wish I could type without looking… I shoulda learned or forced myself… I think im stuck this way forever now… depressing weh weh weh weh.. I need to perk up and take a shower… the thing in this chair is starting to hurt my neck… like I should move or I’ll have to speak out of a tube… hmm not fun


Ha ha ha this song called typewriter tip tip tip tip just came on and it’s the noise im making… oh itunes, you know whats up


Sad. Mom isn’t going to be ok when I move out…. It sucks that sometimes you have to make others so unhappy to make yourself happy… where is the line between selfishness and selflessness? I haven’t found it yet… but im honing in on it


Ok, shower time, my stomach aches… its been like that for a few days… I hope im not getting sick… 


“recoleta-cha-cha-cha” or “how many puns can viv make in one blog?”

So I dragged my corpse out of bed early one cold dead morning and hauled my bones to the Recoleta Cemetery. A grave feeling settled over me and dug right down to my skeleton. The death everywhere gave me a feeling of my own mortality and gripped my heart till it turned stone cold.

The extravagance scared the life out of me, it was like a cryptic plot to bury one’s feelings with stone, gold, flowers and boxes. It was quiet as a tomb ‘cept for the tourists laughing themselves to death over the various funny names they encountered. I thought their grim humor would soon decompose as I walked the ground, wishing my feet weren’t killing me. I almost died when the sight of (what I thought was) a living angel popped out of the ground through the crack in a tomb’s door, it had me sputtering and coffin‘ for sure. My life was rotting away in the heat and it was time to terminate my visit to the reaper’s playground. I followed the tourists to Evita’s grave, then said bye bye to the death museum.

24! BOOM… all time pun bog record?? Me thinks so.

In no way am I trying to make fun of the long passed, I just think puns are fun. Plus, Recoleta was ALL about not letting the dead be forgotten.. so why not remember them with some humor too?

Check out all the pictures here.

holy cataratas batman!

too much to even talk about, I’m going to have to scan the pages of my journal in order to express exactly what I was feeling.

I have never felt so free and independent. Traveling around the northern countryside of Argentina without plans, limits or schedules.

All I can say right now is, thank god for extra pairs of underwear.