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"I house the most pretentious and precocious art school
students in the greater Baltimore-Washington metro area, possibly..."
More about Carver
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Messaging Off[Restricted to Carver's friends] |
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Schools (Other):
Carver Center
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Occupation:
Magnet High School/ Refuge for wimps
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Hobbies and Interests:
Visual, Literary, Theatre, Dance, Music (R.I.P), Culinary, Carpentry, Cosmetology, Business
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Favorite Books:
anything french or russian
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Favorite Movies:
basquiat, a clockwork orange, anything by godard or tarkovsky or werner herzog, or....
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Favorite Music:
the cure, mbv, lou reed, beck, that trainspotting soundtrack, kind of blue, ramones, madness, the specials
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Favorite TV Shows:
i hate you, stupid tv shows
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Zodiac Sign:
Capricorn
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About Me:
I house the most pretentious and precocious art school
students in the greater Baltimore-Washington metro area, possibly even the whole country. Within my septic green hallways, thousands of otherwise rag-tag freak teenagers, with bad hair and worse fashion sense, have asserted their "creativity" but really spent more
time sitting around in hallways and making out in the senior studios, gym locker rooms, one particular darkroom. My cafeteria does serve up some tasty, chewy, second-hand tater tots, and no one ever uses the gymnasium (except to smoke out the windows). I smell really awful.
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Who I Want to Meet:
people who are different. people who are fearless. people
who were/are part of me.
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How you're connected:
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Carver is in your extended network |
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Carver |
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mac classic IIs = doorstoper + oh the quadra
660av the segregated lavatory
possibly the worst four years of my
life, the destruction of my self-
esteem, and the school the made me
realize that success IS based upon who
you know, what you look like and your
personality alone.
Half the kids who graduated went on to
make deep art. the other half either
didnt go to college or remained the
stoners that they became while
attempting to keep their sanity in the
most pretentious failure of a school
ever.
not a good track record there.
The commons had the same crappy coffee
maker for the four years i was there,
that spit out hot water most of the
time for free, a power crazed 50 year
old hippie running the place, a
possible statu. rapist teaching the
majority of the languages and so many
teachers hopped up on drugs im not
going to count...(Mrs. Fall anyone?)
All this school did for me is torture
me and teach me that art was dog-eat-
dog and that art was not for me.
Oh yeah, and never play sports at
an "art
my way to comp usa or towson town
and just sigh... i don't even know you
anymore.
(which is everyday for the next 2
years, due to my unfortunate age and
grade) I get a wiff of pure stupidity,
ignorance, and drama. And I love it.
Or...love to hate it?
carver, you still befriendstered it,
and that fact is as telling as any
testi...*quiver/shudder* carver is
haunting like elizabeth taylors white
diamonds...or, okay, maybe not, maybe
i just wanted to say that, you know,
to end on a note that might make you
want to know more about me, rather
than the subject upon which i was
actually expounding, this morning,
when i woke up, there was a piece of
pez in my belly button...There's these
guys in my neighborhood, they have a
dog, yeah, and they taught him how to
smooke, and now, he just smookes and
gets them cigarettes...
I get them to pay for it!
Full of pretentious art fags and fag
hags and some really bad art. . . I
guess I resented Visual becasue it
seemed they got all the funding, and
here I was in Literary. It's strange, I
enjoy both writing and
drawing/photography, and yet I still
have this identity in my head of being
a "literary" kid. I'll have to seek
years of expensive psychotherapy to get
you out of my head. You saw my first
relationship, my first cigarette, my
first joint, my first tab of acid, my
first publication, my first hit of
opium. . . but I still resent you for
your pretention and anti-charisma. Oh
wait I forgot--you have Mr. Freed
running you--how worse could you
possibly be? AND as if having that turd
for a principle wasn't enough, you get
to exist next to Baltimore county lock-
up for winos and fallen women. I hope
you're writhing in your own filth, and
I hope your Andy Warhol suckups make a
ten-hour film of you slowly decaying.
I'm in the world now, and lemme tell
you it's nothing like what you expect.
God-damn you Carver, god-damn you to
the ninth hell of the upside down
sinners.