The Explanation.....

Let's start with 'why Crumbly Nevertheless'? The title came from a drawing that my brother and I did one night years ago. We had been working on a series of Exquisite Corpse drawings together and titling them by picking random words out of a dictionary. An Exquisite Corpse, for those of you who don't know, is a dead person 'dressed to the nines'....but that's neither here nor there.

This is the drawing in question, and it happened to be our favorite one of the night (both the actual drawing as well as it's title). What does this have to do with the second as-of-yet ununsed blog? I'm getting to that, Jesus!

I once new a guy in Louisville who had notebooks full of restaraunt reviews that he had written, but written from the prespective of a cockroach. Another person I knew whatched the Dukes of Hazard every day just so that he could record only the jump scenes, which he had filled a few tapes with. Another friend had a collection of photographs she had taken of mailboxes, but was thinking of moving on to photographing toasters in strange places. And I think it might be safe to say that everybody has known at least one person who kept some sort of notebook or journal near them because they liked to quickly write down random quotes they overheard....I've known three, not including myself.
The best part about these examples is that all of the people involved did these things not only because they just 'wanted to', but mostly due to the fact that they needed to!

This is one of my favorite things about being born with whatever level of creativity I was lucky enough to be born with, as well as surrounding myself with others of the creative persuasion. Whether it be collecting off-the-wall items, writing down the migratory patterns of hairstyles, staging photographs of the abuse of balloon animals just for the purpose of sending them to PETA, or drawing a quick series of the Sins that didn't make the top seven, every person that I've known with an imagination level high enough to make them want to do anything with it has had this form of creative blood-letting.
It's this process in myself that somewhere along the way I attached the term Crumbly Nevertheless to. For some reason it just seemed fitting. There is the work that I take seriously, the writing of stories and the illustrations....and then there's everything else I feel compelled to do to fill in the gaps. What's funny is that while I've always wanted my more serious work to be what represented me, it's most likely the rest that best defines my personality, the blog that I've been keeping for the past few years being a prime example.

Recently I've been told by a few people at work that I should just put together a show of these items....seeing as my career at Meiningers is littered with random drawings and creations that I am compelled to create to get through certain days with down-time or when I'm stuck at the registers.....AGAIN!! And while I don't think I will be willing to hang these creations on a wall anytime soon, or ever, the idea of putting them out there to share with others is somewhat attractive. Also, seeing as how the act of blogging in and of itself is it's own form of being demonstrative (especially in my case), why not combine the two?

So here we've come full-circle, the reason behind this blog. The basic plan for it is to be a place to post all of the above mentioned randomness (be-it drawn, written, or hand-made) from both the present as well as what is still remaining from the past. And while the majority of the content will be mine, I also hope to share related items of others that I happen to come across that make me smile.

And By the Way........(the Arlo Post)

This is Arlo.....

...he can kill you with his mind!!!

Letters Trapped Under Glass, Part 2...Electric Boogaloo!

So, as I had threatened to do in the first part of the above titled post, that you are reading right now.....a previous post that I shall now and forever refer to as "Part One" for reasons that I don't really care to get into right now.......where the hell am I going with this?

Let's start with 'why Crumbly Nevertheless'? The title came from a drawing that my brother and I did one night years ago. We had been working on a series of Exquisite Corpse drawings together and titling them by picking random words out of a dictionary. An Exquisite Corpse, for those of you who don't know, is a dead person 'dressed to the nines'....but that's neither here nor there.

This is the drawing in question, and it happened to be our favorite one of the night (both the actual drawing as well as it's title). What does this have to do with the second as-of-yet ununsed blog? I'm getting to that, Jesus!

I once new a guy in Louisville who had notebooks full of restaraunt reviews that he had written, but written from the prespective of a cockroach. Another person I knew whatched the Dukes of Hazard every day just so that he could record only the jump scenes, which he had filled a few tapes with. Another friend had a collection of photographs she had taken of mailboxes, but was thinking of moving on to photographing toasters in strange places. And I think it might be safe to say that everybody has known at least one person who kept some sort of notebook or journal near them because they liked to quickly write down random quotes they overheard....I've known three, not including myself.
The best part about these examples is that all of the people involved did these things not only because they just 'wanted to', but mostly due to the fact that they needed to!

(non-sequitur: I just hurt my back. I honestly just pulled a major muscle in my back while writing this fucking blog....can you believe that?! Here's to growing older!! [raises glass and winces])

This is one of my favorite things about being born with whatever level of creativity I was lucky enough to be born with, as well as surrounding myself with others of the creative persuasion. Whether it be collecting off-the-wall items, writing down the migratory patterns of hairstyles, staging photographs of the abuse of balloon animals just for the purpose of sending them to PETA, or drawing a quick series of the Sins that didn't make the top seven, every person that I've known with an imagination level high enough to make them want to do anything with it has had this form of creative blood-letting.
It's this process in myself that somewhere along the way I attached the term Crumbly Nevertheless to. For some reason it just seemed fitting. There is the work that I take seriously, the writing of stories and the illustrations....and then there's everything else I feel compelled to do to fill in the gaps. What's funny is that while I've always wanted my more serious work to be what represented me, it's most likely the rest that best defines my personality, this blog that I've been keeping for the past few years being a prime example.

Recently I've been told by a few people at work that I should just put together a show of these items....seeing as my career at Meiningers is littered with random drawings and creations that I am compelled to create to get through certain days with down-time or when I'm stuck at the registers.....AGAIN!! And while I don't think I will be willing to hang these creations on a wall anytime soon, or ever, the idea of putting them out there to share with others is somewhat attractive. Also, seeing as how the act of blogging in and of itself is it's own form of being demonstrative (especially in my case), why not combine the two?

So here we've come full-circle, the reason behind the soon to be second blog. The basic plan for it is to be a place to post all of the above mentioned randomness (be-it drawn, written, or hand-made) from both the present as well as what is still remaining from the past. And while the majority of the content will be mine, I also hope to share related items of others that I happen to come across that make me smile.

Music to Grind Your Teeth to........

I recently received a comment on my MySpace profile from a beautiful old friend, we'll call her Amy....because that's her name and it makes sense to use it, quit looking at me that way....that I have to admit kinda confused me for a bit. The reason being, in it she makes mention of my "new look", which I was unaware that I had. Honestly, I never really thought that I had a look about myself at all...for the past several years I've been known more by certain situations that became attached to me; for example (in chronological order) I've been known as 'you're that skater', 'the guy who fought all those skinheads at the Vogue', 'the art fag' (thanks to Mike Bacayu for that one), 'you're the Kinko's Guy, right?', 'You're Kevin's friend', 'Hey, you're zombiespoon', and most recently 'you're the Art Store Guy'. I suppose that I never gave much thought before that appearance would have anything to do with me, but it would have to, I guess, in order for me to be recognized at all....but still, having a new look stumped me. That is, until I thought about the fact that it has been well over a decade since Amy and I got to know one another as well as hang out together (did I mention how bad of a recluse I can be?). We met near the height of my "closet speed addict" days...and I say that with a grain of salt, because at the time I weighed barely over 100 pounds, never slept, had wild mood swings and nose bleeds....so to say that I was a closet speed freak would be the same as calling all of my friends at the time completely stupid.....but I would like to think that they were more in denial or at least holding their tongues. Who knows? I could have missed a moniker of my life: "Hey, you're that junkie, right?"

In any case, and needless to say, I do look very different today than I did then... both physically (thank the zombie Jesus!) as well as in dress.

But still, Amy's comment came at a time (that time is now) when what I look like to others has been on my mind. On more than a few occasions recently, usually on the subject of music, I have been looked at with such looks of utter amazement that I've half expected to hear a record needle scratch and witness time itself skip back one or two seconds. One example, while at work I mentioned the band Polvo. Immediately Andy exclaimed, "You know Polvo!" followed by Judd's defense, "Fisher's cool. He knows a lot of good music." I wondered at that moment if I was feeling the same sensation that a Grandfather must feel when his grandchild says something like, "You know who Luke Skywalker is?!" The defensive side of me wanted to retort with something along the lines of, "I saw Polvo perform when you all were still watching Pokemon!", but decided to hold my tongue, understanding that saying something like this would just solidify my old man status.....so I opted instead to tell them to get off my lawn, the damn kids!

It's funny how much importance can be put on music. How the music that you listen to becomes more of a part of your identity than your own appearance or profession, ect. I sometimes wonder that had the human race evolved without any form of monotheistic religion, whether we would have a history equal in violence with music as it's justification....I also wonder if that sounds too much like a plot from a Philip K. Dick book? (Holy crap! You know who Philip K. Dick is?!)
Apparently, my taste and appearance don't match up well, like a Jew who believes in Jesus....which is fine, I don't mind.

Beyond the musical shock I've lately put into the others around me, what I listen to has come up many times in messages from MySpace friends since I've kept up the profile. And while I could point these queries towards the brief Music part of my profile, I understand that most people tend not to read that far or have a fear of scroll bars.....hell, my own brother recently admitted to only reading the first two or three sentences of my blog posts, which I'm ok with, taking comfort in the fact both that I peed in his morning Cheerios for the first few years of his life as well as the case that he won't read this far enough to discover that.
So, in response to everything above basically, I am extending an invitation to you all to join me in one of my online persona's newest corners, LastFM. I joined this little community not long ago, for the reason of discovering new artists, but I realize that it's probably one of the best ways to also present musical tastes.




So, join up if you wish....hit me up for a friend request....and get the hell of my lawn!

Ground Zero and Thereabouts....

So, one question that I seem to asked frequently by far away friends is, "Are you still liking it in Denver?"...which strikes me as kinda funny....funny in the way that they might know something that I don't, like I might wake up one day and realize that living in a higher altitude has made my genitals shrink to the size of a squirrel's (yes, I DO realize that by the mere mention of genitals here I have doomed this blog to yet another onslaught of penis conversations within the following comments....damn you all in advance!), or that nobody has yet informed me that Denver has the highest population of Canadians outside of Canada and they are all very, very pissed off! But, until I discover either of those situations (or any other that is comparable) to be true, the answer is: Yes! I'm loving Denver.

I think my social hiatus as of late has been due in a good part to having finally been feeling comfortable with my life and surroundings after such a long stretch. Anyone who has known me personally for any length of time knows this to be true, that I go through long stages of inwardness, working on my own projects, living in my head and forgetting for the most part that the outside world is there until it marches into my room and demands money from me at gunpoint.....in which case I usually wet myself and never report the event to the police. Really, have you ever had to try to describe 'the World' to a detective? It's embarrassing......the looks they give you in the precinct.....judging me.....but I digress.

Part of what makes your immediate surrounds seem comfortable (or at least in my case) Is not only the environment that you create for yourself, but the environment created for you, that is. I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I'll try to explain.

There's my little corner of the world right now....my home is in the cross-hairs, in case you want to send me puddings. I love this neighborhood, even though I'm not quite sure what neighborhood it is. Depending on who you talk to, I either live in Capital Hill or Wash Park. From what I can tell, there are two sets of arguments going on about this area: Either people from CP or WP trying to claim it as part of their's, or people from CP and WP trying to deny it and push the responsibility onto one another. Basically it comes down to the fact that I live in a Denver void, which seems fitting. I think I'll just name this place Void Park, make a flag and declare war on the border neighborhoods.
Like I said, it's not just the environment that you create, but the environment that you are a part of that becomes part of settling. For me here, that constitutes a lot of little things; such as the fact that I live in a North facing apartment that keeps me out of any direct sunlight, but still gives me enough light to grow some of my favorite Low-Light plants (I actually bought a damn fern a few days ago! Holy Shit! I've become one of 'those' guys! All I could think about when purchasing it was Steve Martin....and for that reason, the fern is now known as "Larry the Fern', with apologies to Wunk). During the late evenings, or as scientists like to refer to as 'night', I can hear the ghostly sounds of the trains in the distance, which is one of my all time favorite sounds, and one of the things I missed most about moving away from Louisville.
There is a fox that frequents these streets. Now your run-of-the-mill normal Animal Planet type foxes, no. This one is a mutant lab-experiment escapist giant fox. He has followed me home on a few occasions, when walking late at night, and I've come close to getting it's trust enough to almost pet it. Maybe we'll become friends soon.
My new upstairs neighbor wants to be a rock star. The people who lived there before him wanted to be porn stars, so I imagine that this room above me exudes some sort of alternative inspiration, or harbors a muse with a sense of humor. The porn stars were hilarious due to the sheer volume and content of their fucking. The place I lucked out in moving into is fairly well sound insulated, and I usually hear very little.....but I heard EVERYTHING that went on during their frequent Rail Sessions (as did most of Denver I suspect)...and Holy Shit!! honestly, on a few occasions I could also hear other neighbors of mine break out into laughter, which made the whole situation that much more humorous. But, they moved away. The new neighbor I find as equally as entertaining as well as far less intrusive. Yes, he wants to be a rock star, but instead of playing guitar and singing, picture clarinet and singing. Yep. Really. I mean, this would be just as funny even if he didn't suck! One minute of clarinet followed by a few off key verses of lyrics, and repeat. After two or three of these comes.....THE CLARINET SOLO!!! I can't wait for the cd to come out.
And finally, we come to my new favorite neighbor I have lovingly named the 'Fuck Guy'. I don't know if he is a newly transplanted addition to this area, or if he just went unnoticed during the closed window months, but I do believe that he is to be a regular daily fixture....seeing as he is going on a week straight now. I can't tell exactly where he is. He's not in my building, and I don't know if he's actually in a nearby building or outside hiding in the shadows, but every evening, near the same time of day, he emerges. Actually, he's been going strong the whole time I've been writing this entry.
What his shtick is seems to be yelling 'Fuck' in a variety of ways for 2 - 3 hours every evening. "Fuck you!" "Fuck this!" "What the Fuck!" "Come the Fuck on!"....and you get the point.
I was talking to Christina about the Fuck Guy earlier today and we were coming up with a few theories: He has a rare form of daily-short-term-tourettes; He works in an environment that denies him his daily allowance of letting off some Fuck; He's doing his best to argue with the voices in his head....and we all should fear the day that he actually stops yelling.
Personally, my favorite idea is the second one, if for no other reason that the picture I have in my head - "I'll be back honey, I have to go let off some Fuck, I'm completely backed-up with it!"

I realize that I haven't really mentioned much about Denver itself here, and quite honestly it's because I still know very little of it. I have only begun to scratch the surface of this city after my stressful and disorganized move and social hiatus. I am hoping to change that during this summer and fall....learning more about the city and it's corners, the events and culture.....but, then again, that requires actually making friends here and being social....the very thought of which gives me the heebie jeebies.

Maybe I'll just go outside and yell Fuck a lot?

Two Things that should Never Touch the Ground...

Keeping with the penis theme of my last post, here's a cool little fact about Denver for you all:

As I do everyday, I checked today's weather online this morning to see what the day had in store. Why I do this? I have no idea, seeing as the meteorologists for Denver were obviously sent here after failing too many times in Louisville (and that's an impressive feat!), just habit I suppose. In any case, a roll of the dice in the weather-room apparently called for evening thunderstorms, and like any form of gambling, if you play enough you will eventually win one.....unless you are in Vegas. Below is a pic of the conditions right now for my little corner of the globe:

Yep. Not a raging Burma of a storm, but it's there. Do I hear thunder? Why yes I do. So, yeah....technically it's a 'thunderstorm'. Is the ground soaked with rain? Nope. Bone dry! This is the interesting Denver factoid that I was getting to, and it's called 'virga'. Virga is the weather anomaly that happens when the conditions are just right to cause the rain to evaporate before reaching the ground. And it happens here all the time! There was a good stretch of the summer last year that I saw it rolling in from the mountains on a daily basis. Long tentacles of rain stretching down from the clouds, only disappearing near the halfway mark....which, I suspect, is further fuel for my new fascination with the idea of Air Krakens....which I'll get into in another post.

How does this keep in theme with the penis talk from my last post? Well, a simple misspelling of the term, that is, using an 'e' in place of the 'i' in virga turns it into verga....which is a Mexican's cock. Clearly you can see the caution needed when broaching this subject in public....especially in Denver.
"Hey, did you see the great Virga today?" "Que?!"

Letters Trapped Under Glass

I really haven't been totally gone during this last communication hiatus, that is to say, I WAS working towards changing my blogging around a bit. I had been toying with the idea a long while of doing away with my MySpace Blog altogether and HOLY SHIT my neighbor is listening to a recording of dogs being tortured WAY TOO LOUD!!! I have to go knock on a door real quick, be right back.

(this space represents the time spent away from this here blog as well as time spent staring at the monitor in utter amazement of the interaction that just took place with noisy fuck-stick of a neighbor)

Ok, let's try that again.....I had been toying with the idea a long while of doing away with my MySpace Blog altogether and continuing on under one of the many blog sites, bla bla bla. So that's one of the things that I started working towards, having chosen Blogger to host them seeing as I already have a Google account and profile regardless of whether I wanted one or not because they are taking over the world and it's LAW!! And yes, I did say "host THEM", because having more than one changes the pronoun of "it" into the plural adjective.......Rachael. Oh, and because I decided to branch out and work on more than a single blog, seeing as I'm doing such a bang-up job keeping this one updated as-of-late. That's sarcasm....look into my eyes.

For those willing to take a peek at said blogs in progress, here be the links: new manifesto and crumbly nevertheless.

The first, of course, is this one because this post was originally written for my MySpace Profile which is basically the same blog just re-worked and transplanted here...while the second is completely without content. Why you ask? Because at almost the very moment of it's creation, before I was even able to add a description for it, it was locked by Blogger as a potential Spam Site....which is completely understandable, seeing as it has "Do You Want a Bigger Penis" and "Learn to Satisfy Her" written all over it! I received an email from the Blogger Bots with a link to use for the purpose of proving my devotion to the one true God who is Google, who would then unlock my blog and smite my enemies. This, of course, did not work. My new blog remained locked and my enemies flaunted their not smote-ed selves like hookers on Colfax (Denver reference).
This went on for the past several weeks. Every few days I would receive another Blogger Bot email with a link to follow and a request for a pound of flesh as a sacrifice to the One True Light and Way who is Google, succeeded by me trading cigarettes with the homeless for mentioned flesh pound, followed by avoidance of authorities inquiring about the number of transients bleeding out in front of my apartment.

Finally, my worth was accepted by the Grace of Google, and Crumbly Nevertheless was unlocked. Unfortunately, I found the whole situation so exasperating that I still haven't been able to bring myself to finish the layout and start posting the content.....which is what I should be explaining anyway. Yeah, uh, so forget about everything I just said....I was just ranting to fill my "Rant Quota" early this month.

The reason for the second blog is simple: I intend to spam the FUCK out of all of you!!

Ok, no. I'm lying, and I now owe All That is the Light that is named Google through which is the only True Path to Salvation another pound of urchin flesh. So I'll leave the story of Crumbly Nevertheless for the next entry.

Google Bless You All.

And So It Begins....(insert Squishy Sounds Here)

I know that I've been terrible with this here bloggy type thingy that I have been known to use in the recent past to communicate with all of you about my adventures as well as my what-can-be-considered-as-adventures-but-is-nothing-really-more-than-just-made-up-fodder-usually-ending-with-hating-Canadians, and the reason for this a few of you might already know: Canadians are spawn of the Devil and cannot be trusted.....as far as my lack of blogging and communication in general: I have been pacticing my new blog technique which is entirely telepathic. Ok, that's a lie, but it would explain these frequent headaches instead of what my doctor tells me is a result of dehydration due to living in a higher elevation, and that I should drink more water......only to slap me when I bring up the fact that coffee is made with water. And by "my doctor" I mean to say "Guy on the Street who just asked me for change and a smoke", which, I have to admit, makes it all the more infuriating when he slaps me!

Truth be told, I really have no good excuses for why I've been absent as of late. In all honesty, I've just been living in my own world, where I would have my moments where I would consider blogging or responding to messages, only to have them disolve away in my coffee while I continued to get lost for hours with drawings and writings. That, and Canadians ARE the spawn of Satan and should be stopped!!!

So, to try to catch up, what is to follow over the next few days or so is a series of short blogs consisting of what's been going on lately as well as what's been going through my pudding head. As far as the neglected emails and such, I don't know you people!! Who are you and how did you get in my house!!?! I mean, uh, I'll do my best to catch up in that department too.

Praise the Goat!

Within the Folds of a Cloud of Meatloaf...

Sometimes it's the little victories that make me remember why I enjoy breathing....other than the fact that breathing is a completely involuntary activity, which is good for most people, including myself....otherwise I would have died years ago instead of coming-to with my face in the dinner plate and my furious mom who still made me finish every bite of the meatloaf.
In any case, the victory in question here is the fact that I discovered two large scale drawings I had been working on that, until tonight, I had believed to have been destroyed! For those of you just joining this program, let me catch you up: Several months ago, while I was in the process of moving away from Louisville Kentucky (for obvious reasons) to Brooklyn New York, and then to Pennsylvania, and then to Denver by way of Kansas City MO....where the hell was I? Oh, yeah...during all of that I was forced to live off of ramen noodles and raw pillow cases, as well as having to put almost all of my belongings into storage. It was while in this storage hibernation that most of my belongings took it upon themselves to bath in the water of a burst pipe to a water heater for the better part of a full weekend! Hot damn! Long story short, pillow cases actually have NO nutritional value whatsoever, much to my chagrin.....and I lost my entire portfolio of artwork from the past 15 years in just one weekend. Or so I thought.
Well, basically, yeah....I still lost my entire portfolio, just now minus two works in progress.
Recently I have been going through the transition from writing to drawing (which I seem to do every year as the spring approaches) and decided to go through my surviving box of large print and water color paper to start some new work, when I discovered the two hidden between the sheets in the stack! I can now remember putting them both in there to help flatten them out, before forgetting about them altogether when packing up and leaving Louisville without so much as a "Goodbye" (which makes me wonder if there are still friends there that haven't even figured out that I moved away, seeing as how I'm such a hermit and all....but that's a question for another day).

This whole scenario came about due to being able to see my friend Duncan read from his new book, Super Cell Anemia, at his release gathering. Duncan is an old friend from Louisville, one of the handful of people I met my first year there, who moved here to Denver about 7 or 8 years ago, and is definitely one of the pluses of coming here myself (even though I hate to admit that I've only seen him TWICE since I came to this city....see what I mean about being a reclusive hermit?). He has been involved in several bands, one of the most notable from the past would have to be Endpoint, and I have had the opportunity to see him on stage more times than I can count. But, I have to say that I was never privileged to see him like this before, reading his own work, his book, that he has been laboring over for two years now, give or take. And while seeing his perform before has always had a personal aspect to it (if you know Duncan and the music he's been involved with, you know what I mean), it's still different. This was just him, Duncan, alone on the stage reading his own work the day it was released, and I can't tell any of you exactly how happy I am to have been here to be a part of it!

Duncan Barlow with Milque Toast

Like I said, this is what led to my sudden inspiration to draw again, which is how I came to find my two lost drawings. See the full circle aspect here?

Here's what I don't understand: if a child honestly hates meatloaf, I mean, REALLY hates it, and it is an ordeal to make this child eat it every time you cook it (or defrost it more often than not)....why, WHY would you force that child to eat it time and time again under the threat of violence until he is crying over his own sick?!
Here's what else I don't understand: why is it that I get inspired to write after going to an art opening, and I get inspired to do artwork after a reading? Why am I so ass-backwards in this regard.....or any regard for that matter?

By the way, congrats Duncan!!

How the Grain of Salt Won the West....and then the Rains came!

Well dear readers, we come to it yet again.....the glaring fact that Bob Seger has about as much talent and vocal strength as a soggy scab found near the drain of a public shower. But even more important than that is the fact that we have all made it to another Fish Day!!! (God Damn "Hating Bob Seger Day" for falling on my birthday)

For those of you who have joined us within the past 365 days, let me explain what today is.....and let me do so by giving you this HERE LINK considering that I've written it all down before and I'm currently stuck in lazy mode.

So it is that another year has passed, and if I have learned anything in all my years of people watching, it is that people who tend to breath heavy for no apparent reason disturb me.....but also that during any anniversary of an annual event, at least one person involved has to publicly reflect on what the last year has brought.....most likely doing so while drunk.
So let me take this opportunity to do the same, but also allow me to do this with coffee instead of alcohol, and with mostly fiction instead of primarily fact:

This year has brought with itself many changes, which is understandable when you take into account that it was the Year of the Chameleon in Korea, the Year of the Transexual in France.....and the Year of the Mime in Canada....which I think is every year actually, except for the one year that they declared the Year of the Moose and dressed Moose (Mooses? Meese?) up as mimes, proceeded to get drunk and whine about being inferior.....but a lot of changes this year nonetheless!
This is the year which gave me a new home finally.....but then I moved to Denver, where I am regarded with that same grain of salt that I seem to be everywhere......damn Stalking Salt!
This is the year that gave me steady employment again in a low-paying enviroment, luckily seasoned with awesome people.....except for one person....you know who you are!
It has been during this year that I bought some new socks....developed a cocaine addiction (apparently) to those who can't tell the difference between coke and a fucking crushed aspirin....learned to fly (which is a side effect to waaaaaay too much cocaine)....and had the realization that I will most likely never know the touch of a woman ever again!
But most importantly, this is the year that has allowed me to finally land on my feet and start feeling both grounded and centered again....but never at the same time, lest the Nose Fairy find out.....don't ask.
This was the year that I can say to Clint, "2007 was the Year!".....and it's about fucking time!

For the record, 2007 was also the Year of the Zombie.

Well, it wouldn't be my birthday if I were to leave out this here handy little link:

And, while I realize that it does call itself a "Wish List", that's only because they do not offer a "Need List", which is where I would have put the PSP....because I fucking NEED it!! <---(this is the hint folks) So, thank you to everyone who has been wishing me a Happy bDay! I leave you now to your own devices and hope this day finds you all well and racing to get me that PSP before anyone else! I must go now, for my brother is taking me out for my day......which reminds me....a huge THANKS goes out to Rafael for taking my shift at work tomorrow!

Sometimes, Parents just don’t Grow in Sand...

I'd like to take this opportunity to share with you all my thoughts on 'I am Legend', considering my strong thoughts on it, the fact that I haven't written a movie review blog for quite some time.....and because I have had a whole pot of coffee and feel rather fidgety. First, a disclaimer:

WARNING: WHAT FOLLOWS IS WHAT SOME IN THE BIZ CONSIDER A 'SPOILER', AND WILL MAKE YOU WHINE LIKE A FAT CHILD WHO CAN'T REACH HIS/HER BACON FLAVORED COOKIES IF IT IS THAT YOU HAVE YET TO HAVE SEEN IT OR HAVE HAD IT SPOILED FOR YOU ALREADY. THE FOLLOWING WORDS CONTAIN KEY PLOT POINTS FROM BOTH THE MOVIE AND THE BOOK, A FEW LITTLE RANTS AS SIDE POINTS, SOME INSIDE JOKES, AND A HALF AN HOURS PAUSE FOR MORE COFFEE AND THE BAKING OF MUFFINS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

Now that that's out of the way, let's begin. First, fuck this movie!! That's pretty much how I feel about it at this point. There are so many things wrong with it in my opinion that it's actually difficult to know where to start.

I'll start with the book. I am Legend is originally a story written by Richard Matheson, and has to be one of my all time favorite vampire imaginanings ever. (I know that's not really a word, don't start with me people!) That's the point, vampires! Not bald, rabid animal-like zombies that come out at night.....VAMPIRES! But we'll come back to this soon.
When I learned that this movie was going to be created, I was both all at once excited and apprehensive...for obvious reasons......the main being Hollywood's history with altering books into mere shadow's of themselves. Let me take this opportunity to reminisce a little. You see, I do remember a time actually not THAT many moons ago when books and movies were two separate things for me. Yes, I was one of those few youths who actually enjoyed reading, which was one of the many reasons that led to my getting my ass kicked on a rotating weekly to daily to back to weekly basis....among other things (insert faded Kodak photo of a child who didn't give two shits about sports, cars or masturbating in a circle about sports and cars). This is not to say that I didn't enjoy movies as well, but growing up when I did, there seemed to remain a difference between the two mediums. I got a lot more out of books while movies were quick and entertaining escapes from reality that held little more substance than pudding on a string.....I have no idea what that means either, but I warned you about my current coffee intake. It's also not that I'm saying that Hollywood hasn't had it's share of hits and surprises, but for the most part, no one can argue that Hollywood doesn't have it's formulas that it beats into the ground like the Hulk playing Whack a Mole at a carnival after snorting a line of cocaine the size of a train. But, somewhere along the way Hollywood realized that they were producing carbon copies of visual shit and decided to take it upon themselves to turn everything around them into shit as well....enter the "adapted for film" craze that we seem to be drowning in, and that has it's tentacles grappling for books, comics, video games, previously made movies, cartoons, overheard conversations at Free Clinics and sandwich crumbs. There was a point in time when I would hear of a movie to be released, adapted from whatever, and I would think "Wow! They're really going to make THAT into a movie?!" Unfortunately that has been replaced by the new thought of "Please let them NEVER make a movie out of this!!" Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised to see a trailer for "the Chronicles of Twinkie the Kid" at this point.....so, now, I'm sure you can understand my mixed feelings upon learning of I Am Legend. My brother, his fiance' Corrine and I went to see this film a week or two ago, fully aware of this fact. I was willing to overlook the simple things: Will Smith as Robert Neville, the story taking place in New York rather than California and the like. But I was NOT willing to overlook the main points of the story being changed or just omitted, especially the ending.

Let's return to the vampires, which is what the original story is all about. Somehow, they got left out of the movie, my guess is because undead zombies seem to be the hot item now, ie: Formula at work. Fine. They don't have to be vampires, but they could have still been left the ability to reason and speak, seeing how in the book they know where Neville lives and spend their nights calling to him and trying to coax him out. The movie the Omega Man seemed to at least keep this much of the story intact (yes, the Omega Man with Heston, for those who have not seen it, is a direct rip-off of the book, also omitting vampires).

Just on a side note....it's currently snowing here in Denver.....AND THUNDERING!! I wasn't even aware that that was possible!

Ok, fine. Not vampires, don't know where Neville lives and aren't actively trying to get at him. But Will Smith ISN'T also actively killing them during the day like Neville is in the book (another area where at least the Omega Man got right)! I knew there was a big fucking problem here while watching the film, seeing as it is a MAIN part of the book because it's what leads to the ending and the reason behind the title! This is where that spoiler kicks in: he dies at the end. Other than the title and Will Smith playing a character named Robert Neville, this is where the similarities end.
The book ends with the capture of Neville by what turns out to be a race of vampires who have maintained some level of humanity and started a new society. He is put into a cell because while he had spent his days hunting and killing vampires, he was inadvertently killing them as well. It is decided that he has to be executed, mostly out of fear over what he is, hence his final thoughts in the story about hunting the monsters only to find out that it is HE who is the monster....."I am legend".
The movie, on the other hand, ends with Neville taking his own life to save some ineffectual tart and her retarded boy or girl thing because he just so happened to, at the last second, stumbled upon the cure he's been working so hard for and they need to get it to a compound of other survivors with a narration saying "This is his Legend", also flavored with some completely random and out of place religious tones and a weak fucking attempt to be clever with a butterfly twist. Are you fucking kidding me? Just because your daughter or son thing mentioned a butterfly for one brief second in a flashback of events THREE YEARS EARLIER doesn't mean that when you see a tiny butterfly tattoo on the tart's neck while a butterfly image is being formed in the wall of safety glass a creature is currently trying to smash through, that I'm suddenly going to gasp and shit my pants at this. Frankly, it's insulting and M. Night Shyamalan would be rolling in his grave if he were dead.....which he should be.

And while I've worked myself into foaming at the mouth thinking of this complete waste of film, let's touch on some of the many minor, but albeit, just as annoying inferiorities:

At first glance, one might assume that a lot of money was spent on the CGI for this film....I thought so too, seeing as the backdrop of New York minus people for three years looks stunning, that is, until anything moves. Then I was forced into believing that the same team that did all of the Mummy and Scorpion King films were the ones behind this. The CGI in this film looks more like it was intended for a home video game, if the game were to come out five years ago. Seriously, I couldn't even be forced to believe that deer were running down the streets, let alone that these creatures existed!
And while we're on the subject of these "not quite vampire or zombie or whatever" things, am I really supposed to buy a cure for cancer gone rogue has transformed people into hairless, light-sensitive, crazed, base-animal instincts fueled by rage, who can dislocated their jaws every time they roar, jump over a story high to knock down lights, climb sheer fucking brick walls, tear into buildings, bend steel plating like foil, are impervious to any bodily harm unless coming from a bullet, can bust through a solid steel plated and bolted door like it was a marshmallow only to be stopped short by an airtight acrylic wall?!!
But let's go back a little.....why the fuck are they still wearing clothes?! They obviously have regressed to some rabid form in no need of them, seeing as how all of their clothes have weathered away into torn rags, that is, except for the parts that cover the naughty bits. Am I also to believe that these things can work belts and zippers? They must seeing as they haven't just torn off the last remnants of their clothes the first time they needed to take a shit!
And speaking of rags now, how is it that in a world slowly falling apart after people, with trees growing through abandoned cars and the like, that New York is filled with pristine American Flags gently blowing in the breeze (at one point, blowing the opposite direction than all the grass on the ground)?

Pretty much the only thing that is worth a shit about this excuse for a film is the performance by Will Smith, which was later ruined for me by this little tangent for you to digest with your string pudding....Will Smith now a fucking Scientologist?! What the....? I had just finally started warming up to him as an actor! I couldn't stand him on the screen at first due to the fact of his ability only to play one character that I hated, the Fresh Prince....only with movies allowing him to do so with a slight amount of profanity here and there minus the Fresh Prince Clown Pants.
I swear to god, scientologists are the new Jedi...of course without the cool sabers, seemingly undefined and varying powers of telekinesis, and Alec Guinness. No, I'm talking about the At One with the Universe bit while feeling smug and superior towards everyone else, and of course, the Jedi Mind Tricks....."These are not the droids you're looking for.....and you'll give us all your money, or we'll sue the shit out of you!" Or am I confusing Jedi with the Sith?
I mean, have you folks SEEN the footage of Cruise talking about what it is to be a Scientologist before the Church of Scientology pulled it from uTube?! Am I the only one who doesn't understand a word he is saying?! I imagine him giving the same spiel to Will Smith, and I can't for the life of me understand why Smith would go, "Yes. All this creepy in-my-face-babble makes perfect sense! You had me at the last forced, maniacal laughter outburst. Who should I make this check out to?" Cruise MUST drug the water, which would explain his converts as well as his marriages to straight women.

So, to sum it all up, the ONLY good point I could honestly make about this film is that they couldn't make a sequel.....but, as it turns out, I was wrong about that too. *sigh* I need to go punch babies now......

Someone Put Goat in my Pants!

Lab coat.

That is one of my favorite words. Has been for a long time. I couldn't even really explain to you why, it just is. It's better if said slowly and with emphasis. Lab..Coat.
Or 'goat'. I enjoy hearing the word goat.

Goat in a Lab Coat......that's a Lab Coat wearing Goat if ever I did see!

One of my newest of word favorites is the word 'torso'.....for a menagerie of reasons, one of which is that it sounds as if it could mean something completely different than what it actually does.
"Quick! They're onto us! Let's get on our Torsos and ride!"
Or maybe even a name........"Torso McNoodle never saw the faces of his captors, nor would he taste a peanut butter and jelly sandwich ever again!"
That's the same reason why I enjoy the names of muscle groups so much. They always reminded me of mythological places or names or creatures. "Latissimus Dorsi had slain the dreaded Triceps just south of Pectoralis Major."......or "Gluteus Maximus came down with a bad case of the Biceps and shit himself."

I have been thinking about words a lot lately, mainly because I am finally able to write again with some consistency. Finally having an office/studio again after such a long time without is more rewarding that I can even put into torsos.

This blog has kinda gotten away from me. I think I had intended to do an update on what exactly it was that I am working on currently.......maybe. In any case, that would have to be the book Tonic, or the Meresin's Brew rewrite.
One of my biggest flaws (of which, there are many....but we're talking about just when I work) is how easily sidetracked I can get....this blog being a perfect example of which. This is something that I'm really trying to remedy now. It was easy enough blaming being transient for the past year and a half on my lack of production or desire, and really, it WAS difficult trying to work when I felt spread thin over the entire United States, but I am completely relocated here and more than ready to focus on getting what I've been threatening to do, done.
Of course, this might be as easy as trying to stuff a year-old baby into an empty pickle jar, but I'm willing to give it the best of my abilities....seeing as it (it being: focusing on one project at a time until it is completed before going on to the next) reaps far more rewards than baby stuffing, and most likely less jail-time.

I also like the word 'sponge'.

Diary of the Broken Doll......

Just for the record, I have never wanted to have my face eaten off of my skull slowly by a monkey wearing high-heels......nor have I ever considered it a worthwhile aspiration to desire being sealed within an air-tight room, after drinking a gallon and a half of coffee and/or beer, whose very floor is tiled with chemically engineered biscuits that produce a vapor once in contact with human urine, that is equivalent to an entire days worth of Britney Speer's Alpo Farts.

The above is just a taste of what is to come, that being that I now officially have my own internet after over a year of using Coffee House WiFi when I could.

God help you all.

Almost normal..........relatively speaking......

So, the desktop is finally up and running again, as well as the laptop, and I have finally ordered internet access for my new pad....after relying for over a year on leeching off of other's signals.
Sometime this coming week I should be online for good again......which means that I'll have no more excuses.....other than the one's I make up.......which are the excuses I enjoy telling anyways.

I need coffee...that is all.

Diseased Dogs of Christmas, and other Stories

So, this is how it is....as soon as I finished making my desk, my laptop felt it was time to quit on me. Nice. Seems that it decided it was done having working memory. Ok, no problem, I still had my desktop to set up....just a minor setback.
But I wasn't aware that both my systems were in a suicide pack together. After setting up the desktop, it felt fit to stab itself in the videocard. Sweet! Two dead computers sitting on a beautiful new desk.

I'm writing this from work, of course. Bah!

This is just a quick blog to let you all know why I've been missing in action for a while now, and to wish everyone a late "Merry Christmas" and a special late "Happy Birthday" to Shoobeedoobeedoo.

For the record, I have finally purchased a new video card as of last night, and plan to instal it tonight, along with a complete reinstal of windows and all my apps. If all goes well, I'll be ordering internet for home this week.

I hope al is well with everyone, and Happy New year and all that jazz.

Ignoring the Attention Stone....

Ok, it seems that my ability (or honesty) in making a new work table has come into question by several of you.....specifically, Rachael, who has seen fit to post her own blog about it and about me as well. So, fine. I will document the damn thing's construction here for all you naysayers, and sayers of nay, which are one in the same regardless of what your shirt says.

First came the donated dresser of questionable condition. This dresser was given to me by my friend Kristen who joined the army and therefore would never need clothes again that didn't blend with her surroundings. I decided that it would make a good base to one side of the desk after moving into my new place which has enough closet space to make all donated dressers of questionable conditions obsolete. But, seeing as it's condition was questionable (at best), I took it upon myself to give it a work over that included repairs as well as several coats of enamel.

You might notice the drawers in the background, lining the hallway. At that moment they had been freed from their terrible handles and plugged with a wood putty, left to dry.

Here they are after several coats of enamel as well.....keep in mind, every coat of enamel added took 24 hours to properly dry.....then a light sanding before the next coat could be added. This is to ensure that the carpenter (in this case, me) remains high for several days, considering that this was all done in the small room in which I sleep.

Above is yet another pic of the donated dresser of questionable condition in it's last stage of repair and refinishing. This was after the last coat was added....at this point, I was able to talk to the walls.....and they would answer back.

The finished dresser, without the drawers added yet.

At this stage I was still debating on what to do for the other side of the desk. I was considering propping that side up on shelves and making support legs for it, but I still hadn't made up my mind....I was still high from the enamel fumes.
I did have the good fortune to come across the best possible solution when visiting the GoodWill that just opened on South Broadway. It turned out that a nearby Chase Bank branch decided to aquire all new furniture, and donated all of there old desks and whatnots to the new thrift store. I purchased a desk (that also came with a side table that I'm able to use for a new drawing table top to replace my Mayline that was destroyed) and a credenza. Both were in fair enough condition, that is, I could easily make them look better. Dark cherry stained. The drawback was, I didn't have a truck. So I had to disassemble them in the parking lot with a philips head screwdriver in order to load them into my car, haul them home, and then reassemble them in my new place. Then I passed out.

Above is the new desk somewhat assembled. You can see the Chase Bank desk during it's stage of drawer repair (which I'm happy to say was a success). I left the original desktop off because it was only 20 inches deep, and not big enough for what I needed. I bought two unfinished doors to use as new desktops. After putting them on top I then had to spend an hour or two adjusting both sides (the dresser and the desk) so that they were both level as well as the same hight.

The desk's original table top is seen above as the new top to my shelves. The credenza had, at this point, yet to be reassembled, because I passed out.

Here's the shelves with the new credenza reassembled and used as their base. You can also see here that I finally received my shipment from PA consisting of my books and my antique bedside tables.
And then I passed out.

Next came the tedious task of staining the door-desktops. I chose a cherry stain...and as I am writing this, I have already done four coats. This is just slightly easier than painting the donated dresser, in that this stain only takes six hours to dry in between coats. I wanted to document one of these steps for you here, so before I stumbled into the coffee house to write this I added the fourth coat.

First, we start with some cocaine:

Then I have to sand the now dry layer of stain with a fine sandpaper:

Followed by going over it again with an even finer steel wool:

Then, more cocaine!

Next comes the task of wiping it down with a t-shirt that I will never use again, which makes me think that I should have just bought some rags:

And finally, the fourth coat of stain is added. The stain is actually a cherry stain and clear coat mix, which not only helps with a better protected and glossy finish, but makes the room I'm working in so volatile with poisonous vapors that I usually pass out:

The vomitting usually begins shortly after I come to with my face stuck to the recently stained section of table:

Next, we do more cocaine!

....and then more vomitting, usually:

I realize that I have said that I am near finished with this damn desk many times in the past, and the truth is that with every step shown above, I am THAT much closer to getting it done. But the truth is also that this has been a fairly time consuming task, kept slower by the fact that I have to work everyday, the trip taken to KC around Thanksgiving, and obscene cocaine abuse!
This is where it stands right now: the desktop needs one (maybe two) more coats of the stain...and it's drying a coat right now. The next coat will be added tomorrow morning before I go to work. After the staining is completed, I still plan to give it a few coats of polyurethane, at least two, but more than likely anywhere up to three or four. That will be a slightly longer process due to longer drying times, more vomitting than before (the vapors are far worse)....and I'm out of cocaine.......
I have held off getting an internet connection until this project is done, not only due to the fact that I'm poor and don't want to start paying for the service until this is all said and done, but I honestly have nowhere else to work until the desk is completed...so having the online capability there right now IS a moot point.

And for those of you who have stayed patiently with me during this time (and this blog post in particular), I present you with a little added bonus.....a pic of my brother and his fiance', Corrine:

Pubic Hairs in the Butter Dish.....

I am a terrible person. I have an odor that is close to that of cheese that has been sitting in the side of your sink, slowly becoming rubbery and refusing day after day to be flushed down with the tidal of hot water. I have been known to think about scratching children's eyes out with claws that nature never seemed fit to gift me with. I sneeze at unattended sandwiches. Sometimes I laugh maniacally when I make a poop.

I am a terrible person. I refuse to shower every single day. I agreed with a girlfriend over and over that Yes, that outfit made her look fat, mainly because I was tired of hearing the question.....and because that outfit DID make her look fat. I hate squirrels. Sometimes I do things for no other reasons than I was told NOT to do them.

In this blog post, I am a terrible person due to the fact that I have remained absent for so long. Yes, I keep threatening to return to my postings about pubic hair in the butter dishes, or whatever mindless things it is I write about after my fifteenth cup of coffee (I'm only on my 4th right now, and still somewhat lucid), but as of yet I have obviously not come through with such threats. I am a terrible person.

I am a terrible person, also, for the added bonus of being awful at keeping in touch with people. Not only have I avoided blogging, but I have put off responding to those who have contacted me with wellwishes as well as threats. In all honesty, the original excuse still holds, that being the one where I say that I have no internet access of my own yet and am at the mercy of walking my gear down to the coffee house to make outside contact.....but in all honesty, even I am growing sick of that one. I have half a mind to write myself an angry letter asking myself what the hell my problem is and why don't I speed the process up and was it me who sneezed on my sandwich making me sick last week?! But I know better than to write such a letter....I know I won't respond to it. I am a terrible person.

So, I will take this opportunity to extend yet again the same promise, that I will soon get my office up and running here in the near future and update you all on why I love Denver, why I hate squirrels, and what I've been working on........ect.

I hope everyone is well, and by well I mean 'not dead' and not Canadian'.

I am Not Quite Killed in the Face Just Yet......and the Regional Vagina

"Have you gotten any of that Colorado pussy yet?"
I've heard this question far more than I would like to admit, seeing as just once is already way too much. Have I gotten any of that Colorado pussy? Honestly, I wasn't even aware that the female anatomy was prone to geography (barring Asian Vagina, which everyone knows is sideways) and find myself wondering what makes Colorado pussy, Colorado pussy.
"Have you gotten any of that Colorado pussy yet?"
This question usually comes from either my uncle or my uncle's close male friends (and one lesbian friend). No, I have to admit.
"Well, what the hell is the matter? If I was your age I'd be knee deep in it!" (or some variation on the same point)....which has led me to the realization that as you age you slowly become delusional! The thought that being my age would mean that I should be beating the women away with a hatchet or something, or that I could find myself in the mood and just open my door and point, "You and you, now!"
Or that as I get older I might be more prone to seriously give up on being somewhat human and just objectify women entirely. "I used to like good company, but now I just like the 'box'"......
"Have you gotten any of that Colorado pussy yet?"
No, sorry....I'm still hung up on that Nebraska Cock.


Ok, enough of that.
So, I sincerely had the good intentions of writing this here update yesterday, but got sidetracked by more desk building fun and errands.
Here's the quick summary. I have finally moved into my own place in what is known as the Wash Park neighborhood. I had absolutely no furniture so I've been in the process of refurnishing my life, with a combination of new and built items (one of the built items happens to be my replacement desk, which has taken upon itself to slowly kill me.....no really! I awoke to it strangling me the other night!). I have been taking pictures of the process and plan to share them soon, when I get more than a few minutes of internet and can resize and upload them and all that crap. Bah! I need to get my desk done and my own internet. Bah!

As many of you have asked, yes that was me in the zombie outfit from the last post. To unwind from the crazy schedule of work, working, moving and what not, I spent Halloween dressed as the zombie vagrant and walked around Denver looking for change or brains.....I got neither. My brother followed me to take some pics of the experience:

Coincidentally, my brother and I have decided to make this a pet project of ours. He plans to dress as Darth Vader next and pan handle......maybe we'll make a coffee table book of such things? Hmmmmm.

As for right now, I'm going to try to catch up on the month and a half of messages that I have yet to answer and then pack up and head for the new home.

I am Not Quite Killed in the Face Just Yet......or Yet.......Part 3

Alright damnit! Honestly, I had intended on writing a long blog giving you all the rundown of what's been going on since last I wrote, but I still don't have an internet connection of my own and the coffee house that I'm currently at will be closing in just a bit, so I'm forced to leave you with this small image:

I will try to write a real post tomorrow at some point, seeing as I finally have a day off....Weeeeeeeeeee!
Until then, I hope this blog finds you all well, unless you are Billy Donald......suck it Billy!! You bitch!

I am Not Quite Killed in the Face Just Yet......or Yet.......Part 2

Alright, so I'll try to write a little more.............there, I did.