Written By: Ash Catcher
Astro traveling to the 711 would be convenient if it wasn't for the lackluster ride.
Breaking down walls with too much breakfast, trying to decipher what's the truth and what is a lie.
Can you send me a picture of yourself? Is all I seem to get these days.
Do you know how beautiful you are? But my guy I can't talk to right now I am trying to get a raise.
Every time they dont see that there is more to me then there seems to be.
Fuck off, I am selective with who is in my life, I don't know you random person- you really think our conversations are free?
Get to the point why are you messaging me, I have 1,001 things to do and your taking away from my life and my money.
How have you been? Is the topmost worst text I can receive. Ready to chuck this talk box. Go somewhere more sunny.
I am not trying to capture the red flag. But lately I am thinking about switching out of intermediate and going pro.
Just so you know I like to match people's energy. It's a tool I learn in therapy.
Keep asking me if I want to grab a drink with you. I am ready to fucking quit my job I am so sick and tired of alcohol.
Like what is the point of starting a conversation if it's just going to eventually dissipate in disappointment.
My friend referred to me as intense the other day. I think I need more interesting friends.
No I am not trying to reason with logic at the moment but maybe in a week or two when the moon isn't so full, I'll maybe feel less manic.
Out of touch with myself, but I am trying my best. I know some people get it, others try to understand.
People scare me.
Queen of the "Can I ask you a question?"
Really I don't know what to say.
Sucks, this feeling sucks.
This is not what I wanted
Usually I'll just deny 50 requests a day.
Very exhausted and mentally drained how do people do this every day
What could I do differently?
Xplain to me like I am stupid.
You seem different.
Zero tolerance for this bullshit.
Some Assembly Maybe Required: Teaching Myself How To Cook
Written By: Ash Catcher
This maybe kinda a weird thing to write about, but if you do not know by now I have this undesirable need to create things: That does include dinner. On nights that I am home I tend to get pretty creative in the kitchen. I like spicy, mostly vegan, or vegetarian meals and access to some weird “basket ingredients”. Lately I have had a bit more time to myself so I went thru all of my cookbooks. I have quite a bit now, but for the longest time I would just buy them and never make anything from them. It wasn’t until I was in college and had "my own” kitchen that I finally began cooking and baking. If you follow me on social media you can see me making drinks, and food all the time. It has become a very fun outlet for me- my hands don’t always feel compelled to paint or draw, although I do a fair bit of journaling and collaging, cooking has become a great creative channel, not to mention makes for some oddly unique content.
Food for me is important, as a cancer watery sign hot moody mess food became this thing that I used to associate with self care. I spend most of my day caring for other people, and my cat banner- but when it's time to eat at the end of the day that seems to be the best time for me to hyper focus on myself, and nourish myself a little bit. I do travel quite a bit on my off days, summer is coming and I will be disconnecting more and more, looking forward to sunny days, hiking, and lots of beach trips- I tend to grab quick little things on the way to my destinations. Usually a coffee/ Americano and a carb of my choice. I always take fruit when I go for walks around the neighborhood, or go out for an easy 5 mile walk on the canal with my cat. He loves to look at the water, and marvels at all the trees. I want him to enjoy the rest of his life, that includes a fair amount of grilled chicken dinners as well.
I come from like 3 living generations of amazing women who excuse my French but uh…. “Fuck food up.” Dinner when I was younger was some of the most memorable times of my life. My mom made everything with such a profound amount of love that it was immeasurable, there wasn’t a measuring cup on the market that could hold the amount of talent she has. Food was seasoned to perfection, I had never grown up knowing that Salt and Pepper shakers were actually used and not just for cute decor. Nothing needed adding to it, it just stood flawlessly on its own. Dessert was always included, as well as coffee or tea. My grandmother(s) also bring their A game when it comes to cooking, with both Russian and German heritage while food growing up at my grandparents house was vastly different. There is something straggly comforting about the commonality of Eastern European food. I still go to Russian supermarkets, and enjoy other supermarkets aside from my defaults: Aldis, and Trader Joes ( Literally blew through a bag of mini cucumbers the other week, we all got a vice haha).
I like to playfully call this stuff Kitchen Witchery: while some assembly maybe required and at times I may over do it on ingredients, I got this down pat, a lot of failure and trial and error, a lot of late night creating alone in the kitchen all seems to be worth it to create a lasting memory all associated with food. Our relationship at times like any has been rocky, but lately with some careful consideration, and creating with intent. My kitchen game is pretty on par. I love creating, and cooking with other people- I think maybe that in itself shows what some time spent coexisting together and creating a tangible outcome. It is quite something to make something from nothing.
In 2020 I wrote a cookbook myself, and I would love to get it properly published. I have been sitting on this project because HONESTLY I am a little unsure if people would even be interested in what I have to say. Some weeks I feel like I am talking to a brick wall, other weeks I get the feeling more people read these things then let on. I love when people wish me a Happy Ash Wednesday it is truly humbling. I am going to continue to write every week for as long as Long Shots allows me to be feasted for! Feeling particularly grateful this week.
Written By: Ash Catcher
1. I'm not going to teach you Photoshop. I am not photoshopping your head onto someone else's body either. Or drawing your portrait. When I'm with you, I don't want to look at your likeness, I want to actually be with you.
2. Don't assume our jobs are easy. Creative work is actually the hardest a lot of the time because our success and failure is a matter of someone else's opinion, not hard facts, numbers, and spreadsheets. (But I am damn glad that spreadsheets aren't a meaningful part of my life.)
3. Drawing nude models is not weird or kinky or sexual or threatening in any way. It's about fundamentals. If you can't stand the idea of me looking at naked people for extended periods of time, remember that you watch porn, which actually is sexual.
4. No, I don't want to go up to your room and draw you naked. I'm not Leonardo DiCaprio, you're not Kate Winslet, and our relationship isn't Titanic.
5. I just might give you a long lecture on why you should never write any email in Comic Sans. Ever. Comic Sans is the devil's work. Do not let it wreak its havoc on that which you create. Especially when that which you create is destined for my inbox.
6. I'm going to call colors by their proper names so get over it. Chartreuse. Mauve. Burnt Sienna.
7. I will probably ask you at some point if the bottle on the table is water or paint thinner. It's an important distinction — do you want me to drink paint thinner?!
8. I am really picky about the lighting and filters on everyone's Instagram photos. So don't expect me to just snap something and toss it up. Instagram is going to take me time. On the upside, I'll save you from posting terrible ones!
9. Sketchbook = my baby. Do not mess. Do not touch. Don't ask me to draw you. I cannot draw hands.
10. The way you may collect video games or stamps or whatever it is you're into is how we collect pens. Some women dream of a walk-in closet for shoes. I dream of a walk-in closet for art supplies.
11. I am ruled by my ~*feELinGsS*~. Sometimes, feelings > logical thinking. ( and the moon I am a cancer with a scorpio moon )
12. To process those feelings, I probably need a little space sometimes. But don't worry, I'll be right back. Usually in an hour or two after some coffee or carbs I am back to my normal self.
13. I will never have a manicure that lasts more than a few hours. Our hands are for creating things, not looking pretty. Also I will definitely show up to dinner with ink/paint/clay under my fingernails more than once. It's not dirt, it's art. I will also break nails in front of you and then tear them off. It's fake, they are ok.
14. The most romantic movie scene of all time is the pottery wheel scene in Ghost. Don't even think about arguing with me on this. I have been teaching ceramics for 7 years now.
15. My appearance is an extension of my creativity so expect me to take serious style risks! Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn't. Also, know that no matter what you think of it, I will try every hair length and hair color I can think of. In fact, I've probably had all lengths and all colors in my hair at one point. So I hope your mom isn't the kind of woman who is freaked out by such a thing.
16. "Normal" is the worst thing you could call me. I like to stand out and be different. So call me a rare flower or even a friggin' thumbprint — anything that has no duplicate is all right by me. I'll settle for Squirrels.
17. I love new experiences, and inspiration. I'm always looking for a new adventure and want someone who will take me on many.
18. I hate authority, and value freedom. Fuck the State.
19. I am a daydreamer and like to fantasize. You'll like how this translates to the bedroom…
20. Starving artist jokes are not funny. Especially if we are looking for work.
21. If you watch Bob Ross with me, I will love you forever.
22. And no, I won't make you a logo. Your idea has been done 100 times.
See Ya Next Week!
Coffee & Astrology
Written By: Ash Catcher
Coffee crazy Cancer
Trying to keep it all together.
House of cuppery, losing sanity.
Master of all profanity.
People pleasing Pisces.
Nostalgic necrophilia psycho killer.
Can never decide what to order.
Stuck in a dreamland of disorder.
Scorpio put down the espresso.
Coked out, riding out of their minds writing raving manifestos.
Yea we know you’re so intense.
But out of all the water signs you’re just the most stubborn, and dense.
Gemini is torn between two drinks.
Trying to combine the two.
What is the truth? What do each of you want?
Each side shows a different truth.
Loose lisp Libras thought you would go for the tea.
Throws a curveball at me, and orders a Pepsi.
Still Trending, dysfunctional kazoo.
Not too sure what to do with you.
Aquarius is on the phone, and sends me a google invite.
To talk about my plans for “ A Real Job.” Not sure if it is in spite of for the latter.
But that is the thing with air signs On to the next thing
Like to float around, never settling, I admire that directional swing.
Virgo is in the corner categorizing the sugar packets.
Shaking them so they all fit evenly, causing quite a racket.
Lining them up, now I know you thrive on patterns.
"Guess I should bring up something irrelevant that doesn’t matter.”
Capricorn is attempting to organize all the Matthew’s in their phone.
Best of luck with that endeavor, they’re all just a bunch of bros.
Cold Brew like personality.
Can tell a lot about a man, by asking how they feel about police brutality.
Taurus is trying to survey the whole room, reading it at their best.
Honest to a fault they are without a doubt some of my favorite guests.
They always love conversation, and always hold up the line.
My Ace up my sleeve, my fast tract to the spiritual realm and their timing always devine.
Aries, showing up where they are not welcomed.
Keeping the conversation always short and seldom.
Casual indifference, bitchy little vibes, you think you are my only middle aged balding Aries.
If I could rename your sign I would change it to Larry.
Leo has a latte.
That screams red flags, it’s a hot day.
Milking underdeveloped mediocrity.
And I am not trying to capture the flag, more focused on this cappuccino’s topography.
Sagittarius, last but not least let me take a guess, you want something spontaneous, and sweet.
A Carmel Macchiato, good fucking god no drink should ever exceed 8oz. Why do you insist on mods?
Tripe the liquid, oh wow cause you’re so fun and a flirt.
That is nice and all, but you never last, and just so you know later all that dairy is gonna hurt.
This is what I can assume each astrological sign would act if they went for coffee.
How would they interact with one another, would they act nice or cocky.
My co-workers like to casually throw around sun signs.
Lots of personalities and coffee combined.
I am sure I can guess your drink order, and sign.
Fake It Until You Can Stage It: The Audience and The Artist
Written By: Ash Catcher
I love a good show, whether it is a stage show, a good tv series, a movie, a concert, or even a hauntingly precise reenactment of Washington crossing the Delaware river on Christmas in the dead of winter, entertainment is just there to make this unbearable existence we have dared to call life just a tad bit more interesting. Good god was that a run on…. This week I wanted to talk about the dynamic between the audience, and the artist. Now is there a grey area? That is what I would like to find out, at what point does someone in the audience snap out of their primordial slumber and get this wackadoo idea in their head that they too can be an artist, and should start performing all their hopes and dreams?
Creativity and Cycles: Like the cycles of the past few moons, you best believe personally for me my creative cycles depend on a few things: my schedule I work a fuck ton. I am not even exaggerating. I am trying to build an empire and I don't have time to hang out with you most of the time. I cannot see much benefit aside from having a human moment or two, which can most of the time be overrated. The way I create is on a pretty strict schedule. Every Monday I write, I write till my fingers fall off essentially and then Tuesday I draft up AT content to be posted on Wednesday. Everything is on a Wednesday I have curated everything so that smack dab in the middle of the work week people can hopefully find a bit of solace and entertainment to break up from the work week, or if your like me you’re most likely working weekends as well, and forgot the other day was Saturday. I both envy and pity people with a 9-5 weekend warrior lifestyle, go you. Clap Clap. I make sure if I have an idea for something I write it down in my note app on my phone, it is freaking chaos in there full blown moon in Scorpio anarchy. This loops on a weekly basis until I eventually give up, or hire an assistant to help me organize my life because I am too busy doing it for other people.
The Audience, and The Artist Intermingling: Just like almost everything I make at work, lots of ingredients go into a vortex and you add heat and something sweet you can make just about anything and charge 6.50 for it…. .75 extra for Oat milk- hey I don't make the rules. I love to romanticize things, I don't know why, and I am unbelievably forgiving and empathic towards inanimate objects, and people who do not deserve second chances. But man oh man do I love seeing the dynamic of an audience. A collective hive of individuals, most of the time that seem to be vibrating in unison over whelp it could be just about anything I mean even watching GOT finale back in 2019 with a group of friends could constitute for an audience. But like that ending still fucking sucked. The thing I really like is when audience members seem to almost have an “OH SHIT” moment where I think a few things are going on in their heads: 1) I think I can do this too, I want to express myself in some sort of art outlet, and 2) Sheesh I need to pee but I don't want to use the bathroom and risk missing anything. There are two types of people in this world: People who want fame, the need and drive to express themselves, and everyone who is too timid to do anything, deer in the headlight, What IF I make an idiot of myself kinda people. They are better off watching, I would love to go to a show again, I just feel fucking agitated all the time when the thought ever occurs. I want to be left alone, and just create things like a maniac. Embrace the mania. But absolutely, the lights, all the people, your senses are all on fire and then the mindless and numbing starts to ensue, and like a drug you will want to go to a show 3 or 4 times a week- you'll spend way too much money, get crazy migraines, occasionally drink to much- or get drugged a bunch like i kept finding. Certain things tend to take away from the actual appreciation for the creation, and it just becomes a socially acceptable way or event to lose all logic, throwing it against the wall and watching it slowly bleed out.
Homogenized Creativity: Feeding off of other’s creative endeavors to inspire your own, I know I have friends who get mad when other people come out with things similar to their own, I am actually really flattered and lately when people tell me that I have inspired them to write again- that shit gets me feeling all warm and fuzzy- I keep it high vibe, and it's really a shame life is so short who gives a shit if someone wants to be you- be humble it's flattering when someone acknowledges your creative errors and endeavors. I love when musicians get inspired from one another, otherwise how else would you have all of these genres and styles of music, it didn't all just come from a primordial G chord.
I am done ranting for this week, see ya next Wednesday
The Tuna People
Written By: Ash Catcher
*I am listening to Mr. Scruff Ninja Tuna ( that weird song that magically downloaded itself all on our iPods back in 2010 without explanation)
Tuna People, choice cuts of market price eats.
An elusive exclusive school of fish, all the other sea creatures dying for the deets.
The SeaWeed Barnacle Reads: Third Party Tuna Commits Grand Larceny.
Using people like their own personal pharmacy.
Always together, a close little knit kin.
Hard to backstab others, when all you have is fins.
When family is supposedly forever, but you're craving for something more.
A fish with very little morals, and hella delusions of grandeur.
Something is lurking in the basins where we are kept.
Implant chipped, and tagged, I feel something in the back of my neck.
A feeling, that I am not quote sure, but something is fucking fishy.
Some weird shit is a foot, keep spending too much money on sushi lately, turning into a total Ritchie.
Golden eyes are encrusted with salt.
PPP, information organized meticulously, all bought.
Not sure who you people think you are, you work for a corporate candy bar.
Been wondering this for years, why am I terrified of white cars.
This school of tuna seems like a self deprecating trap.
Not trying to abuse my body anymore, dude I just need a nap.
But these fins seem to be crossed behind your back.
If I had quit drinking that poison sooner, maybe I would still be driving Jack.
But Tuna, Tuna, Tuna dammit don't you taste all too familiar.
Filled with harmful chemicals, pure mercury, and silver.
You come off unassuming, and good for you.
This whole thing is a lot for someone to chew.
* PPP: People Pleasing Pieces
Written By: Ash Catcher
This past weekend I parted with my city ways and got some much needed nature and lady time. 11 women, and I spent a weekend in the mountains. I have to admit I really needed more than 2 consecutive days off. With check in not until 3pm I took this as the ultimate 3 day weekend, naturally I made a stop or two, mostly based off of coffee or nature elements.
I stopped off at a cafe on the way up, naturally that one of my old customers told me has great zucchini bread, shit they aint lying I was tempted to get a loaf and eat it all weekend- but I settled on two slices and one of the most heavenly things I have ever put in my mouth for breakfast something called a Potato Bomb minus the bacon, I will be back for sure it was delicious- and naturally dark roast bottomless diner coffee, gimme! My waitress was really cute too, I noticed her sweater had the sun tarot card on it and I offered to give her a reading, in exchange for another slice of zucchini bread. Thank god she accepted cause I really liked the bread when I went on my walk after.
I chose to explore Hickory Run State Park, I have been here a few times, each time something a little different this time I chose a big boulder field that I probably should have just uh I am not sure how to say this… I should have walked cause now my car makes a weird sound when I accelerate too quickly and I have no idea why…. A shit ton of rocks and potholes. I should have known better. They certainly did not tell you that in the google map review. Thanks guys. -_-
By this time it was like 1ish and I had some time to kill so I detoured to 7 tubs, again been here done that but ah not when it was snowing it was pretty cool, and bizarre weather we have been having, including the other day when I got a warning for whatever the fuck a squal is. It was way too cold, I was yet again underdressed and in sneakers, I did have a hat but that wasn’t very beneficial when your ankles are exposed to the elements (slut).
The house itself was great. I stayed in the hot tub until I was an absolute prune, and even got to witness some snow. There were no bears, absolutely none and the lake was closed. WOMP next time I am gonna find that bear. With games, and an obscene amount of coffee I actually managed to stay up to about 10 until I went to Irish goodbye until the morning. I had some great mocktails, and even made a few shots for the ladies, it was an iced vanilla latte shot v.s. a blueberry lemonade both naturally had an obscene amount of Titos. I had a great time but I was oddly enough getting homesick whenever one of the girls went to go to call their husband, and their kids, I don't have either but it was nice to hear about them. We were all debating going to a punk show on Saturday but ya know it's hard to organize a bunch of people.
Overall it was a great weekend, I stopped off at Nellis and had myself an iced coffee and a coconut cupcake, I got gas at a semi reasonable price and hauled my ass to my cat, who seemed to have missed me something fierce. Poor thing is useless without me.
Ill see ya next week!
Written By: Ash Catcher
The Moon puts on an elegant show, different every time in shape, color, and nuance.
I took a moment last week to appreciate
One of the biggest full moons I have seen to date.
Forgot for a split second how much that cosmic rock dictates my life.
There are days that aren’t so bad, those times only hurt like a butter knife.
But as the tides sway back and forth.
My mood heightens, and all I want is to get back to Earth.
It's all about position, and my conjunction to the moon.
But guess once reality comes back, and we establish a timeline I am stuck on Boone.
Getting restless in search of something new.
Certainly my next chapter in life deserves a different kinda view.
Maybe more sunny, or dry.
Much more rocky, I need a better place to hide.
These days change just like the lunar cycles.
And I know I am being a bit dramatic, but I think I’ve lost some vitals.
Information that I am tired of hiding I know.
Pretending all is well, and that eventually this can all plateau.
Maybe she is hollow, maybe she really has become aerated over time.
What If I am not really filled with cheese like they say, what if I have been reduced to limes.
Sour taste left in your mouth, but I have adapted to the rind.
It would be a terrible place to relocate all of humankind.
But pull me in any direction and I am bound to go along with it, at least for a little while.
Cosmic crap thrown my way, I hear it is in style to be hostile.
Violating all human reason, this stuff when you think about it makes next to no sense.
I really wanna know what NASA found down there, to pull out all the defenses.
Man, I haven't stopped looking up tonight.
It's a different kinda feeling, trying to fake it in the daylight.
Lunar loonies, kinda wacky, nothing normal comes out at night anymore.
Freakin dying for a real day off and a trip to the shore.
Written By: Ash Catcher
There have been a ton of updates, and even more that crashed and burned.
RIP the versions of me that were too weak to have returned.
Forget the parts of me that I had to rewire, all the thoughts in my brain.
Try to be the very best versions of myself, but I could never compare to Loraine.
In 2015 I thought cyber punk ash was top tier.
Bright pink hair, deep in that matrix goggled look- always cheering with beer.
But now fast forward a few years, I swapped those goggles for glasses cause I am almost thirty.
Can’t drink coffee after 2pm, if I do not have decaf, I’ll have green tea.
It's crazy what time does to you when you’re young.
Now that it's passed, wow sometimes it amazes me what I harbor on, and get fixated on.
Everything hurts all of a sudden and I am obsessed with products containing retinol.
Knots sprinkled throughout my back, pretty sure there is one the size of a golf ball.
When I was younger I missed out on a huge part of my childhood.
But it's okay because 30 something is obsessed with furniture that is wicker and teak wood.
I've never been one to brag, but I may have been onto something that wasn’t so bad.
Working through my teens, skipping out on stupid things like prom, got to be an early college grad.
Tearing through “dream jobs”, and “dream people” till I took a good long look at myself in the mirror.
To me it’s the pretty consistent complacency, life is pretty much the same as it was, I just maybe a little queerer.
No more kicking it with the people who stood by in silence when there was a civil war inside my head
Not to get off topic but the worst food to bring to a picnic according to this one woman I know is French Bread.
I feel half finished, forever pending.
This voice in my head tonight is fucking unrelenting.
Picking apart my life, like that one time when I was five.
There are some days where I think someone just needs to blow on my hard drive.
Anything to set me back settings: factory.
Why the fuck do I keep seeing signs about blackberries?
And the other shit the subtle light codes.
Sometimes if I am quiet enough I can- nah who am I kidding I am just stoned.
Feelings exploding, a mile a minute- the waves of feelings are making me seasick from the start.
I am sure the milkshakes taste different in Ohio, although they are known for their yogurt.
Slowing down, but I wish there was more effort.
The communications dried up, and I had no idea 40 miles was the desert.
Ash Wednesday: "Let’s Not Taco Bout That"
Written By: Ash Catcher
My top 5 places to get tacos:
My top 5 places to get tacos, all seem to circle around each other.
When I don't feel like cooking I know just where to go.
It’s about an hour or so out of my way but a perfect place for Tacos!
Mill Street Cantina, is one of the most underrated places.
I would frequent this place often after seeing my usual Wednesday faces.
If I want something closer, not too far from the flower shop I lived above.
It's down the street in Hatboro, but it's in the opposite direction of Lhuv.
It helps to know Spanish in this place, the mole sauce cannot be beat!
Chocolate, chilies, and spicy all have the right amount of heat.
If I am buying cat food after work, I'll hit up Blue Sage.
Their sweet potato avocado peanut tacos are some of my favs.
All falling apart, I can't believe I took you here on a date.
But that is okay because their chocolate butter cream toffee dessert thing is great!
Sometimes you crave nostalgia, when I do I am talking about tacos from Mas
Its the taco place I went to in College when I attended West Chester, just because.
Their Kitchen Sink Tacos can't be beat, and naturally I’ll need extra sour cream!
Unlimited chips and salsa ( I like the green kind) Nothing like Tacos to build up your self esteem.
Finally If I am walking on the trails by my house and get hungry.
I go to Taqueria Amor, and get almost everything.
My go to: a dilla with plenty of veggies and cheese.
Not sure why this place likes the Grinch but I have that on DVD.
Tacos are kinda easy to taco bout.
The perfect food to eat, especially in a flood, or a drought.
Corn tortillas only, I am not silly.
Next I’ll try the chili.