26 March

He's a what? He's a What?

 

19 March

When I was 17

When I was 17, I was taking a figure drawing class at the upstate college I attended. That's where I met 'crazypants'. I noticed her instantly, as she struck quite an impressive figure. She was an extremely voluptuous girl, with a big tail and enormous jugs. She also had one of those short 'bob' haircuts that were so popular back in the early 90s. I can remember her penchant for wearing sundresses all the time, which really emphasized her attributes. Still, I think the initial thing that really struck me about her was the fact that she didn't shave her armpits. Glorious tufts of hair sprouted out from underneath her deeply tanned upper arm area.

I was mesmerized.

I don't know, for some reason I've always had a thing for women with hairy armpits. Could be that I'm French, could be that my mother might have had them growing up.. or possibly a third option…

You see, I remember finding my parents' copy of the 'Joy of Sex' hid away in the back of their closet when I was around 6. Alongside the book, was a box with this massive looking 'massager'. Obviously looking back on it, it was some kind of goofy looking 1970s vibrator. Of course I didn't know that at the time, and had my hands all over the thing inspecting it like one of those apes in the beginning of 2001: a Space Odyssey. For all I know I probably had the fucking thing in my mouth, you know like kids do sometimes

Shudder....

Anyway, flipping through the Joy of Sex, I became extremely aroused – even at 6! Like Woody Allen says in Annie Hall - 'I never had a latency period!!' The illustration of the woman in the book had a colossal bush and delectably hairy armpits. So who knows? Perhaps my armpit hair fetish stems from this early sexual imprinting. Like how little ducklings follow whatever they see when they first open their baby eyes and call it 'mama'.

So, for whatever reason, I was really attracted to 'crazypants'. I'd watch her in class day in and day out, totally adjusting my rod every two seconds. I mean, she drove me out of my bird. One day, she came up to me after class and started up a conversation of sorts..

'hey.. I see you staring at me in class every day, so I thought I'd introduce myself'

'yes well.. ahem.. yeah'

You have to understand at this point, I had absolutely no idea how to talk to women. They were from another galaxy, another universe..

'Do you want to go out sometime after class?'

'ahem.. yes.. well ahem'

We exchanged phone numbers, and went off in opposite directions. Later that night back at my dorm, the phone rang, but when I picked up the receiver the person immediately hung up. Well, I was excited about that, because at the time *69 had just recently become available to everyone. I had been waiting for an opportunity like this! So, I *69'd, and this guy answers in a gruff voice..

'yeah?'

'Yeah? Well.. you just called me mr.'

'No I didn't… whaddya talkin' about?'

'Well I just used this thing called star 69, so I can tell that you just…'

'I already told ya kid, I didn't call.. what is this??!!'

The guy was getting really upset, but I wouldn't give in!

'Why are you calling me mr.?? What's your problem!!'

'Alright I've had enough of you  - punk!'

With that he hung up..

It was an amusing little episode, I chuckled about it with some friends of mine, but I quickly forgot about it. A few days later, I ran into 'crazypants' on the quad, and she explained what had happened….

Apparently, she was involved with an older guy.. and by older I mean WAY older. He was 63 to be exact. She had been over at his house the other day and it was her who had called me from HIS phone -  but quickly hung up when he came into the room.

'wow', I said.. I was a bit taken aback.

'Yeah.. we had a big fight after you spoke with him, and I was actually afraid for my life'

'I'll bet..'

'So, do you still wanna go out with me?'

'Sure…'

But I wasn't so sure anymore… This was my earliest memory of 'the warning radar'. Something was not right with this girl. She had a peculiar slur to her speech, almost imperceptible, yet it nagged me. She also had a slight manic vibe about her which unsettled me. Still, this was a genuine GIRL asking me out on a date. The only other time I'd ever been propositioned by anyone was from some gay guy on a bus who knocked on the door while I was in the bathroom taking a shit and asked me if I wanted 'some company'.

So we both agreed to meet up at her place Friday night at 7.

One decidedly odd thing about this chick, was that she lived with her mother in town. Her parents had rented a little cottage so her mother could stay with her during the school year. As a kid, I didn't make all these connections in my head that there was something seriously OFF about this girl.. I mean, I DID feel a bit weirded out by her, but at the same time I was also aroused.

Of course at 17, a fucking 3 legged stool could get me hard.

I showed up at her house for our date, and I remember her mother being so excited to see me. She kept asking me if she could get anything for me - if I need any money for the date.. She was really making a fuss over me. Obviously, it was because she had an insane daughter that was dating a 63 year old guy – but I didn't know that at the time. I mean I must've looked heaven sent to her. It's funny.. She was the only parent of anyone I've ever been out with that was ever kind to me.

We took her car into town, and wound up at a Roy Rogers. I'm a big fan of the fried chicken, you should know that about me. I remember Roy's had this colossal horseradish sauce.. Not sure if they still have it. Anyway, it was totally delish.. I used to dip the chicken skin in it… ahem.. but I digress..

We started talking a bit, and then all of a sudden she became very serious.

'I have to tell you something..'

The whole situation felt very ominous..

'Yes.. tell me, what is it?'

'Well.. It's hard.. I hate talking about this'

Of course my mind immediately sprung to what was on EVERYONE'S mind at the time.. Did this girl have AIDS?? Jesus! Had I sipped out of any glasses back at her place??..

'Yes.. just tell me.. don't build this up, so you know.. big..'

'Ok.. I'm on medication..'

'IS IT AIDS!!', I heard myself blurt out..

'No! why would you think that??'

'Because you're all serious, and speaking in low tones, and you say you're on medication!!'..

I was beginning to have a panic attack… They had started earlier in the semester, when I smoked 11 bong hits of some stuff laced with mescalin.. and subsequently they would pop up for years to come…They should make a t-shirt: '4 years of college and all I got were these lousy panic attacks.

'Noo.. I'm on medication.. for my head.. I'm something called bi-polar.. I'm on lithium'

Well, I didn't know what the hell she was talking about really, but at least she didn't have AIDS.. I was relieved.

'oh.. well ok..'

Long story short, we dated for a couple months, but I eventually broke it off as she started to act increasingly erratic.. She would call my dorm room all the time in tears, saying she heard people talking about her on the TV.. It got pretty scary. When I gave her the news outside of that figure drawing class, she grabbed my hand and bent it all the way back. She had me on my knees…

'You couldn't play bass anymore if I broke your hand could you??', she snarled..

The art teacher pulled her away from me, and she ran off screaming like a banshee.. I never saw her again – she dropped out of the class.

'Crazypants' was the first in a long line of girlfriends that had 'issues' so to speak.. Lately, I've begun to really try and examine this. I mean, what came first the chicken or the egg? Am I drawn to these women, or are they drawn to me? Or, is EVERYONE crazy? I'm not sure.. I know I'm not crazy. Neurotic yes, anxiety ridden certainly! But most assuredly not crazy…

I was never quite the same person after that relationship with 'crazypants'. I didn't see women as these idealized creatures anymore. They had been knocked off their pedestal. They were human. Like Janice Ian sang.. 'I learned the truth at 17..'

Postscript:

Years later, I saw 'crazypants' walking around in my hometown with some old guy hobbling along with a cane, holding onto her arm for dear life.. I felt strangely heartened, obviously they'd made it work..

 

17 March

St. Pattie's

Ahh… Another St. Patrick's day has rolled around, bringing with it all the green beer you can snorfle and plenty of drunken Irish who would absolutely love for you to kiss them – if those buttons they're wearing aren't just for show that is!

I have a very odd little memory associated with St. Patrick's day. It was this time I was home from college, (probably 'resting') and I randomly drove into the city by myself at around 10 in the morning. I had been up for about 48 hours by that point I think, totally buzzy with teen angst, cigarettes and coffee. Being in a complete state of high anxiety, I hadn't even realized it was St, Patrick's Day until I started to hit traffic. I needed to place my self somewhere and get out of the mess, so I just parked my Toyota Corolla Tercel in front of this horrible looking bar - I think it was all the way over on the West side in the 40s somewhere. This was PRE-Giuliani mind you, so the neighborhood was dirty and sketchy and dillapidated.. it was beautiful!

I walked into this bar and it was completely empty except for a couple of ancient drunks perched at the end, and this burly bruiser of a bartender making time with this blowsy broad who resembled a young Joan Blondell – how's that for a sentence pregnant with alliteration? The scene looked like something out of a Bukowski novel, so I was totally digging it. I think at that point I was completely obsessed with Waits and Bukowski.. that lasted a while actually.

I sat my ass down on a wobbly stool, and the bartender fixed me with an expression that was half bemused and half actively hostile. Looking back now, I must've looked completely ridiculous. Like I said, I was around 18, but I probably looked like I was 14.. I was wearing one of my father's old suits – totally wrinkled and smelly, not to mention a couple of sizes to short, and I was chain smoking Winstons.. Jesus, does anyone even smoke Winstons anymore??

'whaddaya want?'

'uh… lemme have a whiskey sour please'

Whiskey sours were my drink at the time, 'cause they tasted like Orangina to me. Of course I didn't realize then, that it's a totally pussy drink.

'a whiskey sour??'

'yeah.. thanks..'

So the big bruiser set to the task of mixing one up, and when he was done he slid this pathetic glass of muck in front of me that to my eyes looked like no whiskey sour I'd ever seen before.

'where's the slice of orange?'

'The slice of ORANGE??... HAHAHAHAHAHAHA… Where's the slice of ORANGE he says!!!'

The three people in the place all started to spring to life out of their pickled comas and joined together in a chorus of raucous laughter..

'THE ORANGE… WHERE'S THE SLICE OF ORANGE HE SAYS!!!..'

He started to prance around, effeminately I guess impugning my masculinity.

'That's ok.. don't need it.. don't worry about it..'

'No, no , no, no, NO.. I want you to have your orange…'

So he went behind the bar, and found this totally rancid looking, drippy piece of orange rind and plopped it into my drink. The guy obviously didn't put any love into his work, which really is something I don't respect - I drank it down...

It goes without saying, that this experience effectively ended my penchant for whiskey sours.

Anyway, long story short, I drank a few more, stumbled out of the place, and got back in my car. Now I was buzzed with teen angst, cigarettes, whiskey sours and humiliation. I drove around the city for a while longer and turned around, heading back across the GW to my parents house - where I would collapse into a heap for the next 24 hours.

  

 

14 March

Truth over honesty

 

Osama's 'spiritual advisor'… Yeah, this guy really represents my best interests.. I was just waiting for the obligatory Jew hating rant… This horse shit about getting in bed with these types of religious nuts is insane. The thought that the MAJORITY of people out there still believe in this shit really makes me want to jump off a fucking bridge..  

I have to say, it might be politically incorrect, but if THIS guy is the spiritual advisor to Osama Hussein, then what's next? Al Sharpton as Secretary of Defense? I mean, this stuff is scary… Bill Clinton got SLAMMED for merely invoking the name of Jesse Jackson when speaking about Osama… If this is the guy that Hussein associates with then how could he possibly be offended by it? Totally disingenuous total mendacity…  

Ferraro, on her last legs,   dying of cancer was attacked for speaking the truth… Forced to quit.. Why? If we're living in a world where our thoughts are policed, where there's no culture, no underground, not a single legitimate reason for getting up in the morning besides going to jobs we hate and scraping enough money together to get by.. tell me what's the point? If Osama wins the nomination, (and it's looking like he will) McCain will cream him.. I just heard Romney might be on the bill as VP… McCain and Romney?? Forget about it.. They'd beat Osama to a bloody pulp… You know what? At this point I don't care.. I'd almost get as much satisfaction at seeing Osama and all his fucking white wine drinking politically correct assholes get their brains beaten in..  

Does that sound hostile?  

Watched a couple of movies last night on Netflix… 'King of Marvin Gardens' and 'Bob, carol, Ted and Alice'… It's totally convenient to be able to watch these movies with Netflix 'view instantly' option… Of course I wouldn't recommend watching 2 movies in a row on your computer, as I tend to get a bit queasy..  

Anyway, I've seen these movies a bunch of times before, but they really are stand outs.. If for no other reason than the fact that they both possess possibly 2 of the best endings to a movie of all time… I'm not gonna give em' away, you should really check em' out for yourselves.. I'll just say the ending to BCTAA in particular never fails to move me in a profound way.. I remember growing up as a young child in the 70s, and the adults in my world all acted like the characters in BCTAA… There was always menace, secretiveness, an element of danger and uncomfortability.. There was always alcohol soaking in to the fabric mixing with the blue smoke cigarettes, making everything blurry..

I don't know maybe today as completely devoid of it is of brains, ideas, truth.. Maybe this new era of unvarnished greed and entitlement.. Maybe it's more honest in it's own way..

Still… I'll take TRUTH over HONESTY… any day of the week..

 

11 March

More Ruminations of a Politcal Nature

I suppose by now I shouldn't be surprised at the behaviour of our politicians, but I must admit I was a bit taken aback about this whole Spitzer thing. It's not because he likes to fuck whores.. hey, who am I to judge? I'm sure some of those whores are pretty good at what they do, I mean they fucking should be for 5 grand an hour.. Anyway, like I said it's not a moral issue in the slightest, it's just the sheer brazen indiscretion. I mean, this guy is a Harvard grad, a supposedly brilliant guy, and he couldn't have insulated himself properly from this type of scandal? What an ultra Muldoon…

I was reading about this whole prostitute service he was using.. it's called 'The Emperor's Club VIP'.. The orgy scene from Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut popped in my head… 'The Emperor's Club'… jesus.. It's funny how I've felt a tad grimy at times in my life for having had cyber sex, or phone sex.. I mean, that stuff is positively charming and wholesome comparatively.. I think I'm gonna do more stuff like that from now on.. Why should I have any guilt about it? It's sex with MYSELF!!!! Elliot Spitzer I thank you, you're complete depravity has set me free..

Of course, this whole thing is going to put the stink on Hil, as he was a big supporter of hers.. Couple that with Obama and his comments about not wanting the Veep spot, and the fact that she'll probably lose by a mile in Mississippi today.. Not gonna be a good couple of weeks.. It makes it even more essential that she does really well in Pennsylvania..

I was talking with a female friend of mine who's an Obama supporter and haranguing her about it..

'how the hell could you not be voting for Hilary.. as a woman it's your call to duty'

'Why? Just because she's a woman?'

'Because she's a qualified woman, because she's the more qualified candidate.. and yes because she's a fucking woman'

'I'm gonna vote for whom I think is the better candidate, and that's Obama.. haven't you read the ton of feminist writing in support of Obama?'

This tops all.. apparently the feminists are backing Obama.. Well I can see that movement worked out to perfection..

My good friend keeps on with that voting 'none of the above' shit from Brewster's Millions.. First off, I hated that movie, and it seems defeatist and willfully cynical. I have a good reasons for believing my candidate would work out the best for my country… They are sound, and perfectly reasonable, and when they're belittled, and even scoffed at as 'naïve' it does ruffle my feathers, as I am not some 14 year old schoolboy to be talked down to.. I'm well aware of all the negatives that come along with my choice, and I believe it weighs out in the end…

And I'm always fucking right… when will people finally come to understand this truth??

 

10 March

French Postcards

For those of you that haven’t caught on yet, I was a bit of a geek in High School. Strike that – ringing affirmative I was a complete and total geek. Not a nerd mind you, as nerds actually did well in math and shit like that, no I was a geek. My teenage years were very similar to the first half of the Karate Kid, except, with no karate, Elizabeth Shue or  Mr. Miyagi . Ahh, Screw that bad analogy..  I guess I was kind of like a less cool Anthony Michael Hall from 16 candles, the untucked dress shirt, the untied reebok hi-tops, you know – King of the dipshits. Women to me were these unreachable, unknowable objects that kind of floated around way out there into the furthest far flung corners of my galaxy. They were like black holes – If you’ll pardon the pun.

Anyway, as my socialization skills were pretty retarded, and since the crowd I hung out with was completely devoid of anything remotely female, you may ask, what was a poor adolescent geek raging with hormones to do as far as any kind of ‘release’ was concerned?

Well, I played on my Apple IIe a lot. I traded a ton of floppy disks with my fellow loser friends. Watched a lot of Woody Woodpecker after school, followed by the Brady Bunch, then Carol Burnett, then MASH.. ah… well you get the point.. Once in a while they’d have Planet of the Apes week for the ABC 4:30 movie, that would make me happy. Aside from that, there really wasn’t a whole hell of a lot of ‘release’.

Recently I was having a discussion about my teenage years with a colleague at work (another former geek). We reminisced about the BASIC days pre-internet. Back then information was shared through passing floppy disks back and forth through an extremely intricate and complex geek network. Most of this ‘information’ came in the form of games. How it worked, was one alpha geek would buy a game (or steal it) from a store like ‘electronics boutique’, then he would hack into it, break through the security, copy it and pass it around. He would place his handle triumphantly at the beginning of the game and gain notoriety throughout the geek universe. These cracked games would make their way clear across the country.

Quick aside, to just give you a bit of a briefing on the floppy disk thing (for some of you younger readers, and non-geeks), before the cd-rom, there was the 3 inch disk, and before that there was the 5 ¼ floppy disk.

The other day, I got to thinking about this one 'game' called French Postcards which got passed around a lot. To tell the truth, it wasn't actually a 'game' per se, it was basically these pornographic lo–res cartoons very simply animated by superimposing one image on top of another, and flipping back and forth. They had a bunch of different ones, one involving a girl with a salami, a farmer's daughter, a lascivious long tongued Frenchman in a beret, etc... The thing is, I realize now that the purpose of this game must've been onanistic.

It’s funny to think about that now, because at the time we just thought it was HILARIOUS!! I can still remember a bunch of us losers crowded around the monochrome monitor watching this stuff and just howling with laughter. The images were just so completely ridiculous, and empirically humorous. In no way, shape or form could they possibly be ‘usable’ in a sexual regard. Still, looking back on it I’m sure that was the intent. This gets me wondering, just who was using these images auto-erotically?  God, I shudder to think.

During the summer of my 15th year, I went on a crash diet. I ate one bowl of cereal a day, and 10 speeded all over the county ‘til my legs became like 2 bars of iron! By the time I went back to school in the fall, I was 60 pounds lighter and 7 inches taller. Soon I’d be driving, and my obsession with the Apple IIe would dissolve in to the coffee cup of my past like so much granulated sugar.

Eventually, my parents would get a VCR*… …and with that, my entry into the world of REAL porn would begin.. in earnest…but that’s a whole ‘nother story… altogether.

Chorus: “THAT'S A WHOLE ‘NOTHER STORY!”

Anyway, whenever I look back on those days, the phrase ‘youth is wasted on the young’ clangs in my head like Chuck Barris’ gong, filling me with this horrible, insistent and relentless nausea.  God, was I a moron.  If only I hadn’t been so terminally clueless about so many things. All these empty and meaningless ways I came up with in order to pass time ‘til I got older. What a waste, but what are you gonna do? I suppose watching Planet of the Apes a lot, and laughing over cartoon porn is kind of quaint in a way, if not utterly pathetic.

Makes you wonder about kids today though, and what they’re up to. All that myspacing and facebooking.. Fuck, these kids aren’t just thinking about sex, or talking about it, they’re HAVING it!... and not only are they having sex, but they’re probably having sophisticated, bonafide GREAT sex! I mean, they have the internet.. It’s all out there!!! the mind boggles!!  Jesus…What did I have?

French Postcards…

Colossal beret..

 
* Note on the VCR: This piece of technology arrived to us about 20 years later than the rest of the world because for some reason of all things, my father had some kind of weird aversion to getting one… the irony is when he finally did break down and get one, he ended up putting together one of the most comprehensive film collections on tape that I have ever seen…  EVERY classic from every genre in every decade he meticulously copied from AMC (before there were commercials), Bravo (before there were commercials) and TCM (there never has been commercials… that’s why TCM fucking rules)… He brooded over these fuckers and couldn’t stand for us to borrow one…  We had to leave two sources of ID with him and a promisory note that we would take the utmost care of his Pathmark brand videocassette... and of course REWIND... 

One time we lent a miserable cunt of an ex-friend of ours a copy of the Tom Hanks chestnut Volunteers, and I don’t know what happened but it never saw the light of day again… My father STILL mentions it from time to time…

Now that collection sits in my parent's garage, like some strange monument to a melancholic bygone era..er..ah..er…ahh…     

Ah who am I kidding?  Thinking about it, my father probably took so long to get a VCR because he wanted to punish his two fat loser sons who sucked at math, because lo and behold, as soon as we lost weight, the era of the VCR (already hurtling towards obsolescence) began at the ole homestead…

End of note.

 

 

 

7 March

Pennsylvania or Bust!

I love how all the pundits are sloughing off Clinton's wins in Texas and Ohio as the result of negative campaigning. Constantly bringing up the '3AM' spot they ran in those states. All these liberal commentators are now whining ceaselessly about how it was a tactic straight out of the Karl Rove playbook. Jesus Christ, could these assholes be bigger pussies? How dare they compare that to the up and down terror alert horseshit they pulled during the 2004 general election. The comparison is really offensive to me.

Well, now they have this Obama employee calling Hil a 'monster', and I heard one commentator shrug it off as 'simply politics'.. Now, if that isn't a double standard I don't know what is. These assholes can't have it both ways. The elephant sitting in a large pile of it's own feces in the middle of the room is that Obama is black, and therefore untouchable. This really can't be allowed to continue. We should be investigating this guy.. I mean just who is he anyway? For better or worse, we know who the Clintons are. It's a fact, they're either despised or loved, but at least she has some concrete ideas of what she wants to do starting on day one. Do we really know what Obama stands for other than some nebulous 'call for change'… Yeah, yeah, fine.. and just who died and made you boss? How are you all of a sudden the arbiter of change, and what exactly is this change anyway?.. What are the brass tacks? Because to me you seem just like another over privileged, over indulged, over entitled rich prick involved in just as many shady deals as any other scum sucking politician.

Watching Keith Olbermann jizz all over himself like a schoolboy in the full fancied flights of puppy love over this guy is so cringe worthy, it seriously is uncomfortable to watch. It's too bad, I actually admired Olbermann for all his clever if not longwinded diatribes against the bush administration. Still, he half way lost me over his righteous indignation over the whole Imus scandal, and now he's just being a strutting ass. That drooling bassett hound of Chris Matthews is no better either. They are reporters and their programs should merely be a vehicle for getting the news of the day to the viewer in a completely unbiased way. Or if you're going to be biased, at least have the balls and come straight out and say who you're backing without this faux patina about how you're undecided, and recused from the proceedings.

This race is not over, and I'm not going to have some candidate rammed down my throat whom I feel is a complete light-weight and who does not represent the direction I feel this country should be headed in. We do not need to all get together hand in hand singing Kumbaya, we just need to get rid of fucking Bush and Cheney and get some people in there with fucking BRAINS and real solutions. Moreover, I think it's high time we have a fucking WOMAN as president. If we don't seize this moment and do the right thing, we're never gonna get the chance again.

Now the delegate count is not this huge issue that they make it out to be. Florida and Michigan have yet to be counted, and they will be I think that's inevitable. In the end, Clinton will have won all the important states, and NEITHER of them will have the delegates needed, so we'll need to rely on the Superdelegates. They need to make the right choice. If Obama has a few more delegates culled from his meaningless wins in fucking place like Mississippi and Alabama, who gives a rats ass? It's the states like Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York and California that matter.. These are the states needed to win!.. Keep moving forward Hil.. Let's take Pennsylvania!!

6 March

Dead Pheasants

Most of the cab drivers in Manhattan barely acknowledge your existence. They just listen to their NPR full blast, or their light jazz. It's actually grating when you give your directions and hear in return – stony silence. In fact sometimes you have to repeat yourself to ascertain whether or not they heard you, and when you do they barely grunt a response 'uhn..' .like they're annoyed to have to strain their vocal chords on you.

This morning I hopped into the cab of a young guy. He was an affable chap and actually responded when I gave him my instructions. Mid-way through the ride he started blaring the radio, and I mean full blast. It was Pearl Jam. I hate Pearl Jam, Still, this kid was obviously doing it for my benefit. He probably assumed from my appearance that I was in to the rock and the roll. Which I am, however at 9am in the morning listening to Pearl Jam at full tilt boogie is not my idea of a good time. The thing is, I didn't have the heart to tell him to turn it down, as the guy was at least in his own way trying to reach out and be accommodating – so I let the vedder blast.

Next song up was 'Running down a dream' and man is that song good. THAT one I didn't mind hearing full blast. Talk about an underrated guitarist. Mike Campbell is up there. Moreover, the solo in RDAD might qualify in the top 10… Definitely top 25. Of course not surprisingly, he cuts the radio off right in the middle of the best part of the solo to switch to another station. Talk about blueballs.

So last night I watched the finale of this season's Project Runway. Talk about an underwhelming dud of anticlimactic ejaculatory dribbling. Yeah the little nancyboy won. Quel Surprise.. His stuff looked pretty ridiculous to me. A couple of his models looked like they just walked out of a Rembrandt painting. I mean, all they needed were a couple of dead pheasants under their arm and a musket. Plus, what's the deal with that kid's hair? Is it supposed to be 80s retro? I grew up in the 80s, and I can tell you that NO one had that hairstyle. The hair styles of that day were either the classic feathered parting in the middle conair blowdry.. Or the ubiquitous mullet.. and for a couple of years from 1987-88 there was the rat-tail.. Never did anyone have anything like the concoction that he's frothed up on his noggin.

I think they can retire the show for good…

I'm heartened to see what's been going on with Hil, and how the media has been taken to task. I would just love to see them all get their asses burned with this whole Obama deal. I'm hoping for that real estate deal of Obama's to blow up in his face.

My good friend says I should steer clear of biased politicking on this site, but it's hard to not get annoyed at the mendacity thrown in our faces on a daily basis. Hopefully, the stink has attached itself to the fish, and the playing field has leveled. Would get such pleasure seeing that drooling St. Bernard Chris Matthews get his comeuppance after months of trying to derail Clinton's campaign with the Hussein love-fest…

On a brand new note… A walrus comix T-shirt arrived last night, and damn it looks good!! I heartily suggest you pick one up at our store, if you wanna be the best dressed bastard out there!!.. Seriously, they are serious!

 

 

3 March

Family Guy

For years I’ve made my enmity for the Simpsons well known to anyone who’d listen… Actually, to clarify a bit, it’s the PEOPLE that love the Simpsons I hate, the show itself I just find pretty much to be a major snooze… So, when people started telling me how funny the Family Guy was, I was major-ly dubious… It just seemed to me like a Simpsons rip-off to me and I avoided it like the plague.. Recently though, I’ve caught a few episodes here and there, and found myself laughing my ass off…  Now I’m totally hooked.. This show is pure genius… It’s everything the Simpsons isn’t; edgy, irreverent, unexpected, and you can tell that this Seth McFarlane guy totally gen-x, as the episodes are chock full of quotes and references from my childhood.. It’s the new Mad Magazine really brilliant satire and parody.. So that makes me happy…

When I think of it, I used to date this girl that LOVED the Family Guy, and she was always trying to get me to watch it.. I think her insistence that I liked it brought out the contrarian in me… I once had a friend like that.. Everything he’d show me I would instantly dislike, just because he showed it to me..  Of course, I would later discover that a lot of the stuff became some of my favorite things…  There was just something about him that actually altered my interpretation of what I was experiencing…

On other fronts, I’ve been writing for this other site a piece a day, which is really testing my spirit… Not sure how long I’ll be able to keep that pace up, but at least it’s building up my skill… At the very least my ‘typing skills’…  Seems like I’ve been getting some decent feedback though which is encouraging… It’s fun to get back the instant response, and to be honest it does sort of help iron out little bugs in how you communicate your ideas to an audience..

Aside from all that stuff, watched a couple of different movies over the weekend… One of which was recommended by a friend of mine called ‘This Is England’.. It’s the story of a kid coming of age in 1980s England, during that whole Falkland Islands deal… He gets involved with some skinheads, some of which are nice kids, and really just in it for the style, and then later with an older skinhead just out of prison who actually espouses the ideals of the National Front…

It was a decent film… It reminded me of the 80s film Suburbia by Penelope Spheeris… The only thing was, I watched it at my friend’s house, and had some of his Life cereal he had lying around.. At first it tasted pretty good.. Cinnamon-y and tasty, but shortly after I started to feel violently ill, so that really colored the whole experience…

Later that night when I got home and was feeling better, I ordered ‘the King of Kong’ on Netflix… That one I really liked a lot.. It’s about these two guys who is a genius at video games from the 80s.. He had the highest score in Donkey Kong, was the only one to actually beat Pac Man.. He was just a prodigy… The other is this kind of pathetic loser that actually has tons of raw talent at everything from sports to drawing, to math.. Well, he loses his job just as he signed papers to buy his new house.. This guy has no luck at all.. So he kind of fixates on the idea of becoming the best at something, and focuses in on beating the Donkey Kong world record, which he actually does.. It’s just a well made doc, very much in the Crumb vein, which I consider to be maybe the best doc ever made…

Speaking of which, I just picked up some new books over the weekend.. A couple from Will Eisner and one Crumb book.. It just never fails to amaze me how beautiful his stuff is.. His work is so inspiring, it really makes me wanna write, pain, sculpt…

..Honey, where’s the bathroom?