u s e y o u r h a n d s

Jones, Bisnett Announce Split
Blogging Duo Go Separate Ways; Vow to Remain Friendly

Chicago, August 22, 2003

After nearly two years together, Phineas X. Jones of nocommercialpotential.net and Shylo Bisnett of useyourhands.com are sad to announce their breakup, effective immediately.

“We realized we were just friends, you know?” said Jones. The pair had been discussing a separation for some time but only recently agreed to part. “Nothing will change,” said Bisnett, “I’ll just live down the street in an apartment with a better stove.”

Although the reasons for the split may be simple, the splitting of communal property proves complicated. Papers will be filed in Cook County Family Court to determine who will receive custody of Lapsang, the couple’s year-old adopted Chinese baby. Fans of the pair will be reassured to learn that their fifth and final album, tentatively entitled Pony Corset, will be released later this year; however, they will not tour to support the effort.

“Really, it’s cool,” insists Bisnett of the parting. “We’re only doing this fake, Onion-y press release thing because tongues will wag in the blogger world otherwise.” Bisnett and Jones agreed to make a public announcement of their separation so as to prevent uncomfortable reader comments. Also, because they are lazy. Jones said, “This way, we tell it once and we’re cool.”

Currently, Jones and Bisnett are sharing the residence on Damen Avenue. Bisnett is actively seeking a sunny one bedroom with new kitchen and deck in Lincoln Square or Ravenswood.

So, this week’s been the bomb diggity. Lots of changes, which you’ll read about in a press release this weekend. I got a job, additionally, so I’ll get to be an actual grown-up girl again. Healthcare and flight benefits. Score.

Anyway, on with the show….

YAWNING PANTERA FAN. Southbound Brown Line, 8/6, near Diversey. You: short black hair, sunglasses, Pantera shirt, great tattoos, incredible smile, beautiful. Me: black T-shirt, clean-shaven head, goatee, glasses. Couldn’t stop looking at you. I smiled as you left train, you yawned, apologized for it. Care to meet over coffee? (Chicago Reader)

“This is Kitty. She’s my sweetheart of darkness,” said Curry, grinning like a motherfucker, as he introduced his lady to Phil Anselmo, Pantera’s longtime frontman. The lead singer moved his eyes from Kitty’s chest to her face and thought for sure he fucked her from somewhere.

8-4-03 To The Girl Beneath The Starry Night umbrella, with curling cypress trees and painted Stars, pin wheeling In their gyres; To give you shelter from the rain. (Philadelphia Weekly)

In high school, Ezekiel still went by his given name, Tim, and was just getting into the goth scene. He left the day after graduation, bought a bolt of velvet, and never looked back.

You Pink Shirt and Pink Socks – m4m – 28 Oh my god you were so cute looking at the listings at Great American Music Hall. Our eyes caught, but I was all hot from carrying groceries, hot from seeing you, that I couldn’t get the nerve to come and say hi. (San Francisco Craig’s List)

“This is what happens when you watch Amelie too often, sweets,” said Tina. She put an arm around Keith. He nodded in agreement, but still felt blue that nobody ever responded.

On the train (18/03/03)… - m4w I sat across from you. You got off at Leicester. I’d like to buy you a drink. (London Craig’s List)

“Is that me? I ride that train. Maybe that’s me. Why couldn’t it be? And if it’s not, maybe I should respond anyway because you never know and what a good story that would be to tell our kids?”

The last installment of the serial. You know, I always intend to write something funny, but I never do. Ever. Sorry about that.

“What in the hell, Veronica?” Barry yelled after the door shut behind them. Veronica was already heading back into the kitchen to make some very strong coffee and toast. “Let him yell,” she thought.

He followed her into the kitchen and wondered what had happened. Veronica used to glow alive, but now she was shuttered, hiding her light. Her moods were more and more irrational and truculent. They irritated him because she seemed unable to control them. Or perhaps unwilling.

With each motion she used to make the coffee, Veronica kept time to a metronome ticking in her head. Barry’s pacing was not in step and her song grew increasingly discordant. She fought to block out his red, demanding face but he kept beating back into her tune.

“Veronica!” he shouted. And even as his volume increased, so did his love for her lyrical name. He repeated it, softer this time, remembering with his love for her. She heard the change in his voice and turned her face in profile.

“That bird,” she began, but her voice sounded froggy with phlegm. She cleared her throat and began again. “That bird. I just wanted to look at it.”

“But it was gross,” he said, holding his arms out at his sides.

The coffeepot was nearly full. She firmly grasped the handle and held out the delicate flesh inside her arm. It was his favorite part of her and when he touched her there, she’d shudder. Her extended arm shook slightly, but the one holding the coffeepot was steady. Barry felt close to vomiting. He couldn’t speak or stop her. He stood still as she poured the entire pot over her skin.

When the last drop hit Veronica’s arm, she dropped the pot and it shattered across the floor. The sound of the glass mingled with her own screaming. Her arm shook violently now, but she did not dare touch it. Barry grabbed her hand and pulled her arm underneath the tap. Blisters bubbled up instantly and her skin, once beautifully white, turned a livid red, like blood gone solid. She needed to go to the emergency room. He shut off the tap and reached for a nearby dishtowel.

As he wrapped up her arm, he screamed for an answer. “Why did you do that?”

Her arm still felt as if coffee was being poured over it. The pain was so intense she thought she might faint. It was exquisite. She caught her breath and looked into Barry’s eyes. He was horrified. His expression sent goosebumps crawling across her body, including the wounded arm. She gasped at this unexpected pleasure.

Barry shifted his feet and the glass crunched beneath them. This was sick. “Why did you do this?” he repeated, at a somewhat lower volume. Tears snaked down his face.

Veronica whispered her answer before collapsing in his arms, “Because it was beautiful.”