October 31, 2012

October 30th + 31st: I'm lazy, I know

Yeah, technically it's already November, but my 1st of November post is yet to follow. Get excited for a whole heap of "where the actual fuck has the year gone" bullshit. Because I am an old lady and that's what old ladies like to talk about.


I have been feeling like shit for the last two weeks or so, constantly having headaches and feeling nauseous constantly. I got up at 5 this morning to take Aspro. I NEVER ever take pain killers, so this was a last resort type dealy. So yeah, please accept this as a valid apology for not being here. I'm dying. Valid excuse. Non? Oui? Peut-etre?

How was everyone's Halloween?

If you follow me on instagram, you should know how mine was. Well, here's the deal: It was pretty darn cool. And using the word "darn", like the Dad-esque creature I am, should be an indicator of last nights' coolness in itself.

We had lots of candy, lots of decorations, trick or treaters abusing our door bell and best of all, there is enough candy left for me to feast on for the rest of the year (ok..at LEAST until Christmas!!!). My personal highlight was by far seeing the disappointed faces on two girls, when they saw Dan and me coming down the stairs. They said they expected someone "scarier" living in the house.

Note to self: Work on scarier appearance.

We finished the night with some Evil Dead, some Ghostbusters and some Dracula.

Anyways...feast your eyes, my darlings.

October 29, 2012

October 29th: Birds

So, my neighbours have this bird cage in the back yard. It's really odd in a way, as the birds aren't really pets and I have never actually seen them patting them or anything.

But what I have noticed is, that the wild birds always come to tease the caged up ones. It's kinda interesting to see, because obviously the free birds want the cage birds' delicious food and maybe even their awesome hideout, whereas the cage birds want the free birds'....well....freedom.

Who's happier?

Maybe staring at completely unrelated National Geographic underwater (and by underwater I mean SHARKS!) photographs will help you answer that question?



October 28, 2012

October 28th: Mean girls

In a delirious post-going out state today. I might or mightn't have asked Dan to get "Mean Girls" for me to watch.

I am NOT apologising!

Ah my. This is great.

"What? That's Regina's ex-boyfriend! Ex-boyfriends are off limits! I mean that's just, like, the rules of feminism!"


October 27, 2012

October 27th: Happy Halloween

Can you guess our costumes? Hint: Dan's from the Eighties, I am a Nineties child and forgot my wig.  :)

October 26, 2012

October 26th: Mindfuck

Remember that one time, when Napoleon Dynamite turned hot?



What the dick happened to Jon Heder?
Apart from the fact he is a weird mouth breather, I would totally tap that curly hair.

October 25, 2012

October 25th: Tattoos in the making

Are you sure? via wtftattoos.com

Apart from having exciting stuff going on at work, I am having severe tattoo cravings. It's been a while, since I wanted to get inked (what a douche bag of a word), but I reckon as soon as I have my financial resources bundled, I will go on the search for a good tattoo artist.
I will probably avoid the Brisbane area, unless anyone has any good tips? I won't wanna waste my time and hard earned pesos on arrogant fucks who think they're supposed to do everything else (self-realisation wtf), but provide a good service.

When I hear people talk about their experiences with tattooists, I shudder with disgust. I hear about tattooists who screw up, because they are bored, drunk or hungover. I heard stories of 4 hr sessions during which not a  single word was exchanged between artist and customer. Can you imagine shutting up for that long? A horrible thought in my world. And how many times did you walk into a tattoo parlour and were neglected with arrogance, were laughed upon because of your ideas or their "un-doability", instead of being provided with alternatives? I have, trust me. More than once did I want to throw poo (figuratively, please!) at the "manager" behind the front desk, for being such an arrogant, unhelpful fuck. To be honest, I would be disgusted with myself if I let someone carve their identity into my leg, if I was aware how big an arsehole they are. It means they become part of me, and I sure as hell don't intend becoming an arsehole's fucking canvas and walking advertisement.

So. Much. Swearing.

I talked about my ink experience (the leg piece one)  a couple of months ago (have a look through my archive!) but I won't shy away from repeating myself.
I had a fabulous time. I would go as far as to describe it an intimate experience. It was a 3 1/2 hr session and I didn't feel bored or intimidated once. I felt fascinated by what my tattooist produced and how confident he was in his creation. There was no sign of arrogance from his side at all, even though I was 18 and didn't really have a clue about how I wanted everything to look and he, well, he's the shit were I come from. He happily guided me through the process, gave me a million options and made sure I was comfortable with what he had drawn up for me. It wasn't at all a shitty, intimidating and rushed experience.

You can grasp now why I am a bit hesitant about looking around. I hate "scene" shit and arrogance, especially with people who are here to provide a service. I know tattooists are artists but man, I pay you to transfer my idea onto my skin, I don't want to hear your self-realisation BS or how awesome you are.

Since I want to get a Studio Ghibli tattoo in true Myazaki style, I reckon it will be extremely hard to find a tattooist who is willing to do just that, without wanting to add their personal style.

 Hints and tips would be greatly appreciated, guys! :)

October 24, 2012

October 24: Art quickie

Artist painter Yuanyuan YangArtist painter Yuanyuan YangArtist painter Yuanyuan YangArtist painter Yuanyuan YangArtist painter Yuanyuan YangArtist painter Yuanyuan Yang

October 23, 2012

October 23th: This is such a cheap post

How great is instagram? I mean, it literally gives every arsehole a platform to post filtered photos of themselves, hashtagging them with #nofilter.
Crazy good.
I am one of these arseholes.
Here are my #nofilter filtered photos. Enjoy

First step to adulthood: Wear a wristwatch like you were interested in what time of day it was. Apparently it helps with productivity levels. I find it very stressful. I also found I rather search my bag in an attempt to find my phone in order to look at the time than lift my left arm. Ah well...
Nothing like a morning coffee. Remember when I bought these prints and was super stoked?

new babies. shitty photo but they are silver cuffed stilettos. 

Mini ice cream cones from Aldi. Delicioso!

New Ghibli DVD. I fell asleep half way through. This doesn't indicate the quality of the movie (first half was great), but of my 11 pm physical state. Yeah, I was pretty tired. But I promise I'll tell you how I find the ending.
Halloween is coming up!!! EEEEEPPP. I am excited. This is my costume of 2009. Faaar out. It seems like a life time ago. The matching post is just here.

follow me on instagram: astridapfelkern
Or don't. You know, it really is up to you. ROAR.

October 22, 2012

October 22nd: Octopus arms

I have so many things on my plate at the moment, I wish I had eight wonderful, tentacle-y arms to help me. And yes, I would love some of those sucker things too. I could be a Caucasian version of
Squid Girl

via google
Whoa. This gif is making me feel dizzy. Squid Girl, STOP IT!!!!!

Speaking of which. I still haven't told you about my amazing night terror experience, after watching American Horror Story Asylum last week.

Man, it's one of those things I hate to love. I can't get enough of the story and the twisted plots, complex characters and how absolutely horrifyingly dark it is. I am already looking forward to the next episode, although I swore to myself that I wasn't going to watch any more. The music and scariness hurts my psyche! I lay awake for about 4 hrs the night after watching it, picturing nuns with black goo - bleeding eyes, buckets full of human flesh fed to locked up crazy people, various "needle-in-your-eye" - scenarios. Oh, and Chloe Sevigny blowing people. But that's a different story. Ah...Chloe. Never disappoints. I love you.

As for the plot. Whoa. I used this expression for the second time now. Squid girl is still doing my head in. But back to the plot. If you expected a shitty second season of this show, you'll be more than positively surprised. It's very complex and interesting. I basically sat there for the entirety of the show, thinking to myself "WHAT HAPPENS NEXT????", rolling around excitedly on the couch like a three year old during the commercial break of Ben 10 Alien Force. Too long a sentence? Not the point here.
You have this asylum in the mid-sixties, run by a mad catholic nun and a crazy doctor. Then there are all the loonies and they even lock up a lesbian reporter chick, even though she is not crazy at all. Or maybe she is, who really knows? Are you crazy? Am I? CRAZY?  Anyone?

There's aliens and sci-fi stuff and anal rods and mutant people and torture doctors and blowjobs (CHLOE!) and greasers and what not. There are secret chutes and doors and mass murderers who skin people and lots of drugs, spitting, poo throwing mad scenes. The producers pay tribute to Leatherface and other scary motherfuckers. Critics say it's over the top, I say it's on top. Oh yeah, did I mention Adam Levine gets his arm ripped off? I reckon people all around the world will watch this part with gusto and content. No, honestly, I don't have anything against him. If only he wasn't in denial about what he actually does for a living (You do Pop, which is cool. Don't pretend you're fucking Lemmi).

As for the intro music, they stuck with the horrific not-song aka 'sound arrangement' of the first season which simply gives me the creeps just thinking of it.
Have a look and listen.

If you haven't watched the first season of AHS, please go do so now. It is seriously the best TV horror show, I have ever seen. Ok, I haven't seen that many, but who cares - it's awesome! And don't be put off by the fact it's made from the "Glee" - producers. Not that I was, I love Glee...but you know. For those of you who are under-appreciative hipsters. Smiley face.

Here is the trailer for the first season:

Happy fright nights. Make sure to put your rubber panties on before bed.

October 21, 2012

October 21st: Lazy Oaf

Oh hey there.

As you might have been able to tell by my 'non-instagraming' (why u no use proper word?) of beaches and bikinis and ice cream cones, I HAVEN'T been to the beach this weekend.

See, Dan and I are starting to get the hang of this whole 'act responsibly, be an adult' thing and thought we should prepare the house for our routine inspection tomorrow, rather than spend our time and money in paradise.

Also we don't really have a lot going for us bank account wise, so spending $ 100 plus for one night was, after putting some thought into it, not really a sensible option.

How boring, I know. But cleaning can be so much fun, guys!
No, seriously.
It isn't.
But that's cool.

Now. Listen to some of this shizzzzzzzzz

October 20, 2012

October 20th: Yes, I was bullied. Here is my experience.

As a chubby little kid I used to get picked on for, well....for being a chubby little kid. I was blessed to be confident enough to fight back (aka call the boys and girls that called me fugly, dumb assholes in return), but my self-esteem suffered. When I started high school, my self-esteem was practically gone. I had the most horrific body image and I perceived myself as being at least 10 kgs heavier than I actually was. I hated school in general, because everywhere I went I felt like someone was targeting me, I found myself tip-toeing around. I also tried to hide from people when eating lunch and whenever I saw one of my bullies, I would walk the other way.

I hated summer the most because every single year my school forced us to go to the pool for PE and the idea of having to wear a swimsuit in front of my bullies made me feel sick to the stomach. A chubby girl in a swimsuit means open season for bullies. I never walked very far, just so my thighs wouldn't jiggle and whenever I saw one of them come around a corner, I felt the urge to cover my belly with the length of my lower arm. Comforting grip. I was a zero in the pool too, so besides not fitting in the acceptable weight-range, I also didn't fulfill the athleticism kids are supposed to have in high school in order to be considered Ok. Double humiliation right there. I didn't stand a chance.

My teachers were useless in a way that they just perceived bullying as part of high school life.I can't recall a single situation, were I was "saved" by the helping hand of a teacher. It seems they sometimes even enjoyed listening to some of the stuff, trying to suppress a grin. In fact, I can remember one of my female teachers provoking confrontations by revealing that my sister had suffered from anorexia to the whole class. I understand that she wanted her students to realise that weight issues were some sort of a sensitive issue in my family and to just take it easy on me, but what it really did was make my bullies perceive me as far weaker prey than I had already depicted.
For weeks after that happened, people kept telling me I should start an eating disorder so they wouldn't have to look at my fat ass anymore.

The opposite of good is well intended. Write that down NOW!

 So as the years went by I just decided to deal with the bullying in what I thought was the best possible way: Not responding at all. I can't say I kept to myself, since I have always been a pretty loud and social person, but instead of fighting back I just kept my mouth shut and let the bullies throw verbal shit at me until they got bored. Don't get me wrong, it was still painful to listen to and I still felt an everlasting jealousy towards the skinny girls, but I just didn't feel there was any use fighting back.

That's when I discovered music and its therapeutic effect. I was obsessed with Nirvana and then started listening to Alice in Chains and went from there. Pearl Jam. Queens of the Stone Age. Incubus. Strokes. 1000 "The" - bands. I basically listened to amazing music WAY before anyone else in my year (just to put it out there), because I needed something to escape into. The other girls were still holding onto their 'Spice Girls' sticker albums, when I was blasting "Songs for the Deaf". I had no choice but to find comfort in art. I started filling a diary with poetry and songs, I played the guitar, I bought music magazines (no internet back then. bliss!), I was "SAD for art's sake" for about a year straight (should do that again sometime, haha, oh youth), I sang, I danced. I was a kid I would have liked to hang out with back then.

I felt like I finally had a purpose in life. I didn't feel a need to chase after this dream of waking up skinny and flawless one day and being accepted into the 'cool' gang, so we could all go and get our belly buttons pierced together. I was a goddamn writer, a singer-songwriter, an illustrator, a poet. I educated other people on why they should buy this or that album. I had finally discovered my adolescent identity. I hung out with alternative people. I had much older friends. I went to my first big music festival at age 14. I was allowed to go out at 13 because my older brother looked after me (the legal age in Austria is 16, not 18 or 21, I didn't drink any alcohol until I was 15 and even then I only had one or two drinks a night. No judgement on my parents guys, they were awesome and responsible!) All of a sudden I was cool because unlike so many people my age, I had developed a personality.

When you are exposed to bullying all your life and all of a sudden these very people come up to you and tell you that they always liked you for being so 'different', you find yourself in a weird state between flattery and anger. It's funny because all you wanted from them all this time was to either like you or at the very least to leave you alone. Now they are doing both and it's the biggest mind fuck. As much as I wanted them to suffer the way I suffered, I much preferred living a pretty great life with even greater people. I felt that being vindictive is only going to make me take a step in the wrong direction and turn me into as horrible a person as they were, so I let it go.

I'm not going to make this sound "un-dicky", because there is simply no way to do say, but being the person whose attention and admiration my bullies were seeking, was a pretty fucking great triumph back then.
It was proof enough for me, that success, no matter how you define it, is the best revenge and I started living my life according to that philosophy.


When I was in Austria three weeks ago, I went for a drink with my awesome parents and amazing husband and one of the cruelest, no THE cruelest of all my past bullies walked into the pub. He was fat and looked bloated like an alcoholic, he was completely drunk on a Monday night and made a total dick out of himself, abusing the waitress and other costumers. You could see his self-hatred coming out of his ears.

Do you believe in Karma?

October 19, 2012

October 19th: Apfel

Things are pretty exciting right now. I have to keep quiet for the moment though. I am sincerely hoping not for too long though, otherwise my eye will start popping out like Mr. DeMartino's!!!

Stay tuned for the crazy good news.

Tomorrow is finally beach time for Dan and me. It's been a long time since I last saw the ocean and I am craving some salty, hair-curling, short shorts-wearing quality time with el hombre.

I gotta rush to work now so I am going to make this a quick one and say "Hi" again later in the day to tell you about how I slept after watching American Horror Story Asylum (hint: I DIDN'T!). I never learn. Anyway.

Here's a shot of the third-greatest grandma I could want (right after my own two) - Iris Apfel.

She was photographed for Dazed and Confused magazine and she's, wait for it, YES - the covergirl! Way to make potted palm trees and plants look amazing - just wrap them in cling wrap. Easy, peasy.

How cool is that Tweety cup?

October 18, 2012

October 18th: Art cravings: Victo Ngai

I was fascinated by this illustrator I had the pleasure of discovering on what must be the best blog on earth.

The artist's name is Victo (Victoria) Ngai, she is from Hong Kong but currently resides in and works from New York. Judging from her blog, she is basically living an illustrator's dream, which is getting hired by several newspapers on a regular basis, while selling limited edition prints. I am envious and fascinated at the same time. What a rare and precious opportunity, to make a living from using one's creativity. I imagine it being the most amazing profession of all. Yes, you probably won't get rich from it, but to know that the source to infinite fulfillment and a steady income lies within yourself is, for a rather uncreative person like me, astounding.

If I had some spare cash at the moment, I would definitely invest in one of these prints. They are like an Asian version of my beloved busy Klimt paintings. Lots and lots going on, without getting too crazy. And the colour palette...ugh.... I am all for pale! 
You can acquire some of these prints via this shop. (They are limited edition prints so hurry if you're keen to get your paws on them!)

October 17, 2012

October 17th: Opportunity day

I declare this Wednesday the official "jumping at an opportunity" - day.

Man, life is handing me some sweet and juicy lemons at the moment. I love it.

Are you salivating yet?
The weekend is SO close, I wanna leave for the beach right now.
I mean, look at it!!! Mooloolaba beach, you beauty!!

October 16, 2012

October 16th: brain mash.

I wish people would realise that another one's success isn't necessarily one own's downfall.

That is all.

October 15, 2012

October 15th: One in every colour

Shoe post!!!

Because it's been a while and they're so pretty to look at.
Spike-y Spike-y.

 All images via ebay

October 14, 2012

October 14th: Deth P. Sun

Aaaah, Sunday.
What a great way to relax and recover from a hard week of work and pleasure. And of course, The Lebowski Bash. I've had a bit of a crazy week with lots of work, weird as weather, I fought off a cold and the freaking wind, as it had me walking around upskirt for most of Friday afternoon. Yes, I flashed about 10 construction workers and a guy that works in the shop opposite of mine. Great times, awkward at last.

Since going to the beach was kind of a no-no today with about sixty loads of washing to do, we decided to go all out next weekend and go up to the Sunshine Coast for a look. I haven't been up there since February 2011 (!!!). I might live in the country with the greatest beaches of the world, but I seem to go to Melbourne more often than to said beaches. 

Anyway, moving on from my obviously AMAZING personal life to the core of this equally stunning blog post.

I love instagram. That's not a big secret. But I especially love it for its transparency.
For me it's the easiest way to discover new artists and personalities and one of them is Californian illustrator Deth P. Sun.

I don't even know how I stumbled across is profile on instagram, but it was probably through a friend who liked one of his pictures. Isn't this a great way to get (social) media coverage? People who like your photo, automatically lead all their followers to your page. It's like an artistic snowball effect. Great for everyone, who has talent but no financial means, to represent it in a big way.

Anyway, Deth P. Sun has a character, which all his paintings and drawings evolve around. I think it's a cat/bat type creature. I just love the way he uses colour in such a quirky, yet subtle kind of way. Do you know what I mean? They're not kids illustrations after all, though he gets me excited like one.
Tough thing to do with such an ever-bored and unamused adult like me. He also lists the "Moomins" as inspiration in some of his pictures. In my world that's a double PLUS.
Have a look if you're interested, also browse his page or etsy shop, if you want to acquire one of these splendid art works. (Yes, I said the word 'splendid' out loud in an Oxford accent as I typed it. "Splendid".)