Meet Mary Forrest

Welcome to the OFFICIAL Mary Forrest Web Site. Please do read on to learn everything there is to know about me, Mary Forrest.

Just so you know, I am in the process of retiring a lot of very old and very uninteresting content, so please do not be alarmed if a page that you remember reading in 1997 seems to no longer be where you once thought it was. Do you even know who Downtown Julie Brown is anymore? You don't care. Let it go.

For the record, I know I have been lax in getting my www.ass.com in gear, so I'm letting you in on the action before the good stuff gets rolling. Think of it as a preview pass. There's a lot of what you've already seen and the promise of bigger, better, cooler, more April-fresh-scented things to come. Hang in there, mes amis. I've got some surprises for you*.

Anyway, that's it from me. Mary Forrest, Chinese and Jewish...like a fox.

*Not actually true.

	Oh, right. Like you're the only person in the world who can have a weblog. Sure, I wasn't the first to get one. But, so? No one said you had to look at it. But if you wanted to -- and I'm not saying you do -- here's where you'd go to do it.
	You could call this purgatory for unfiled photos. You could get all artsy and call it a series of photo essays. If you really wanted to be cryptic, you could call it "Georgette." Call it whatever you want, but by all means click.
	The True-Life Adventures of Mary Forrest: Mild-Mannered Girl About Town. For those who yearn to know me, to intimately familiarize themselves with my secret soul, click.
	Some of my artwork is small enough to fit on my scanner bed. That's what you will see here.
	Don't you have a Lomo yet, you big stupid idiot? Wait. That's the wrong approach. This is my way of welcoming you into my lomographic adventures. Maybe now you'll buy a Lomo, too, okay? See for yourself.
	Movies, music, and my magical life -- I've distilled it all down to a few sentences. Can you believe it?
	This used to be nearly the only reason anyone ever came to this site. Sad, isn't it? Especially since I have let it fall woefully out-of-date. If I ever update it again, you will find it to be very useful. In the meantime, you will not.
	While limited in its persuasiveness and disorganized in its content, this feature promises to be highly cathartic for me if nothing else. No topic is too petty. Just try me. P.S. This feature is old as dirt.
	It's about time you started thinking about me and MY needs for a change. Note: Since creating this page years ago, my needs have changed considerably and can now be summed up as "health insurance and a box with a lot of money in it."
	If you can find the secret song, you can keep it. If you can't find it, you need to take a serious look at your fear of trying. This feature is totally illegal.
	Do people even have link lists anymore? I guess I used to have one. And I guess this is it. I don't think I go to any of the places on it anymore. But you can if you want to. I pretty much spend all my time on MySpace.
	Wanna know what I like? You don't have to ask me twice. Or once, really. Herein, you will find the gateways to my poetry archive and CD catalog, as well as heartfelt endorsements of things that totally turn me on. As if you cared.
	Maybe you're just thinking, "What does this gal look like?" Well, wonder no further. Have a look. And check out the Photo Gallery and More Mary while you're at it. [Note: More Mary is more recent but still very old.]
	What cheeses me off? What shuts me down? What sticks in my craw? What gets my goat? What chaps my hide? What gripes my bottom? What gets my panties all in a bunch? What turns my brown eyes blue? See for yourself.
	Yet another dust-covered web destination. Be sure to ask your server about the Soup of the Day, typically a delicious compliment to any entrée choice. Unfortunately, you have to cook it yourself.
	I am prepared to satisfy your curiosity on virtually any subject, via my FAQ page. Note: This is fake. And thoroughly outdated.
	That's right. I'm just as affected as you think I am. I write poetry. And not saucy limericks, either. I mean actual poems. About FEELINGS and shit. There's nothing fun about this feature. It's exactly as grotesque as it sounds.
	Sign my guestbook. It's a good opportunity for you to brush up on your typing skills while bolstering my self-image. You can also view the guestbook, but there's not much point as no one ever signs it anymore.

[Cool Places][Likes][Look at Me][FAQ][True Life][Lines][Do Your Part][Secret Song]
[Bad People][Overexposed][Peeve-O-Rama][Soapbox][Soup of the Day][Fonts]
[Monoblog][Diario di Lomo][Art Expo][Roundup*]

10.10.12

This page is best viewed on my computer.

DreamHost Web Hosting - http://www.dreamhost.com/

Yes, you, too, can have a kickass Web site.
And if you host it with Dreamhost (like I do), I will get some money out of the deal.

Acknowledgements:
Special thanks to Adam Cohn for his undying devotion to my site and the quest to keep it amusing and free of typographical errors.
A big fat thank you to Jody Husser for being the most enthusiastic prospective reunion attendee ever.
Props to my little sister Beulah. Remember, I made you.
For Martìn: Laughter, sugary beverages and a place for your vomit.
To Alex -- the sort of gratitude that is impossible to describe.
Heartfelt appreciation to all who think me funny.
A shallower but no-less-heartfelt brand of appreciation to all who think me pretty.
A special commendation and souvenir medal to those who think me perfect.
Thanks in advance to the man of my dreams -- wherever you are.

So you want a private audience with me, do you? Email me.