Photos and Words of Patrick Calder

I live in Washington, DC with 1 cat named Pixel, 6 cameras, 3 computers, 158 movies, 286 books, and 1 bowling pin. I own the Design Foundry and pretend to be a graphic designer by day.

Please keep in mind that this post is more than 3 years old. Opinions change. Tastes change. Everything changes. I may still agree with or like this, or I may not. But everything is kept up here for archival purposes.

Valkyrie / October 17, 2010

“She was one of those giant broad beamed Scandinavian giantess warrior women types; the fucking Russ Meyer buxotic women, you know what I mean: WOMEN with breasts and hips like we don’t have anymore. Oh my god what was that horrible- what is this god awful frightened 14 year old boy runaway cul-de-sac we’ve gone down in regards to women? These fucking shaky dog waif model Chihuahua girls with the visible heartbeat through the rib cage, that Lara Flynn Boyle: “If you fuck me I’ll tear!” I don’t want that! I don’t want to fuck a box kite! Jesus Christ! Starches! Finish my fries! She was huge and Nordic, she was a fucking Valkyrie and she began to construct my joint. SHE CONSTRUCTED MY JOINT. And to give you an idea of the care and concern and craftsmanship that went into my joint- it took her an entire song on the mixtape to roll it. Unfortunately you know what the song was? Queen’s We Are the Champions. I say unfortunately because as it was starting to play I was like, “Oh I wish this wasn’t happening because now this sounds a bullshit story!” But it really happened this way literally as she opened the paper and put the fucking weed on: I’VE PAID MY DUES TIME AFTER TIME! I’m like, “No! Not this song! This is turning into a Robert Zemeckis film!”

Patton Oswalt discusses purchasing weed at a pot cafe in Amsterdam

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