May this warm the creepy cockles of your hearts as it has mine... Wave hello Corky!
Monday, December 25, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
I Humped your.....
http://www.ihumpedyourhummer.com
I love it. I kinda hope sometime soon I'll be walking down the street or driving by and see one of these videos being made. Your homework if you so choose, is to add a video of your own. My friends here in Cali will have a much easier time finding their rape victim.
I love it. I kinda hope sometime soon I'll be walking down the street or driving by and see one of these videos being made. Your homework if you so choose, is to add a video of your own. My friends here in Cali will have a much easier time finding their rape victim.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
Workin' the door... again
I'm off to "local Gay Bar" in about 3 hours... I must say I can't frickin' wait. It really is my non-job job... Too fun and easy to pass up, as well as blending nicely with the rest of the workweek so I still feel like I get a weekend. (Drop by boys and girls, I'm gonna wear my spikey santa hat for some good ol' fashioned alterna-cheer... I know its tacky.) I'm excited to get a break from my other job: "Hate Hatey." This has been too long a week. First thing when I get to job #2 will be to get myself a drink.. and then perhaps another. I may as well while the job still exists. We'll see how the end of the year goes and if local gay bar is still a friendly place to work.
I need to get my ass outta bed tomorrow and finish some damn christmas shopping! I was so gung-ho a couple of posts ago about the holidays, but now all I want to do is crawl under those covers and finally get some rest. The end of the year is just exhausting. I'm excited to go home to Seattle though. (Sidenote: I'm a little sad the trees are back up at sea-tac airport as I wanted to get a chance to do or say something bitchy when I walked through.) It'll be great to see my parents. This year has been a really rough one for me and for the first time in a while I've found myself repeatedly thinking or saying I want my mommy.
Well, before I get out my credit card: any of you bitches want something special in your stocking/ stalking, you better speak up or forever hold your peace/ piece!
I need to get my ass outta bed tomorrow and finish some damn christmas shopping! I was so gung-ho a couple of posts ago about the holidays, but now all I want to do is crawl under those covers and finally get some rest. The end of the year is just exhausting. I'm excited to go home to Seattle though. (Sidenote: I'm a little sad the trees are back up at sea-tac airport as I wanted to get a chance to do or say something bitchy when I walked through.) It'll be great to see my parents. This year has been a really rough one for me and for the first time in a while I've found myself repeatedly thinking or saying I want my mommy.
Well, before I get out my credit card: any of you bitches want something special in your stocking/ stalking, you better speak up or forever hold your peace/ piece!
Fun photo Friday! #5 Show me your Clause
Ok, I know too much Santa as of late, but I couldn't help but throw on some old greats and some new humorous takes on the old fat man...
Not Santa, but someone is spreading the season's cheer!
Not Santa, but someone is spreading the season's cheer!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Hungry Jackie! Kill! Kill!
In Seattle, there exists a strange creature by the name Jackie Hell. I've been waiting a while to find a good video to share her with you all, here it is... Thanks to Mark for the tip off, and to his friend Jason who made it!
Gotta love a good drag queen art film.
Gotta love a good drag queen art film.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
A bad day to be a whore near London...
So much happens around the holidays. It's amazing how many news stories get blown out of proportion, or plaster the screen on every channel to capture the attention of busy, overworked Americans. The news has never necessarily been a fuzzy cuddly thing to sit down and watch. I remember horrific images splashed across the screen as a kid, watching the news before dinner with Dad. As of late, there are a few stories that have caught my attention.
1st: "Tis not the season at Sea-Tac Airport" Apparently the war on christmas continued in Seattle this week. In an attempt at an "all inclusive" holiday display, a local Rabbi in Seattle petitioned for a menorrah to be added to the displays at the airport. What started as a good natured petition quickly accellerated into a full on war over words and intentions. The Rabbi went from asking, to demanding with his filing of a lawsuit if the airport would not let him put up a large lit mennorah. In a very Seattle way of handling things, the airport decided to take down all decorations to avoid any suit, and rethink the display for next year. Gotta love the rage this caused in not only the community, but all over the country. Suddenly the Rabbi looked like a crybaby, and the airport looked like the Grinch. Only in Seattle would this sort of story turn into a passive aggressive finger point fest! After much bickering back and forth over who was "doing the right thing" and who wasn't at fault, the suit was dropped and the trees are being put back up. I kinda wish they had kept them down and then perhaps a large christmas decoration "sit in" would have happened! oooo, or Maybe people will secretly stash mennorahs all over the place now that the trees are back up! I may have to carry a mennorah to hide when I go home for Christmas!
Here's a photo of the lonely lobby:
2nd: A woman actuallyput her baby in the microwave.... sick sick bitch. May she get the same treatment!
Now that that anger is out, let's all take a break and laugh: http://www.elfyourself.com/?userid=666e6d17f370d90eac0a8ef_20061207
3rd: There is a new "jack the ripper" type killer on the loose near London. He appears to be targeting prostitutes, but I know I wouldn't want to be outside alone if I were any female with that shit going on. I always find the killing of a prostitute somehow sadder than just some person... I don't know, maybe it's the idea that these people have reached a place in their life where they have to sell their bodies and they already have given up so much in life. The idea that these downtrodden souls are being killed just because they appear expendable is really frickin' creepy and sad. (Maybe I'm just being fed too mucch hooplah and hootenanny about the poor whores of the world, so I'd love to hearsome good ol' fashioned devils advocate here. "I'm a whore and I'm incorporated, have a big house, health insurance, I am even on the PTA.") Next time you see one, give a whore a hug. (They might just charge you though.)
1st: "Tis not the season at Sea-Tac Airport" Apparently the war on christmas continued in Seattle this week. In an attempt at an "all inclusive" holiday display, a local Rabbi in Seattle petitioned for a menorrah to be added to the displays at the airport. What started as a good natured petition quickly accellerated into a full on war over words and intentions. The Rabbi went from asking, to demanding with his filing of a lawsuit if the airport would not let him put up a large lit mennorah. In a very Seattle way of handling things, the airport decided to take down all decorations to avoid any suit, and rethink the display for next year. Gotta love the rage this caused in not only the community, but all over the country. Suddenly the Rabbi looked like a crybaby, and the airport looked like the Grinch. Only in Seattle would this sort of story turn into a passive aggressive finger point fest! After much bickering back and forth over who was "doing the right thing" and who wasn't at fault, the suit was dropped and the trees are being put back up. I kinda wish they had kept them down and then perhaps a large christmas decoration "sit in" would have happened! oooo, or Maybe people will secretly stash mennorahs all over the place now that the trees are back up! I may have to carry a mennorah to hide when I go home for Christmas!
Here's a photo of the lonely lobby:
2nd: A woman actuallyput her baby in the microwave.... sick sick bitch. May she get the same treatment!
Now that that anger is out, let's all take a break and laugh: http://www.elfyourself.com/?userid=666e6d17f370d90eac0a8ef_20061207
3rd: There is a new "jack the ripper" type killer on the loose near London. He appears to be targeting prostitutes, but I know I wouldn't want to be outside alone if I were any female with that shit going on. I always find the killing of a prostitute somehow sadder than just some person... I don't know, maybe it's the idea that these people have reached a place in their life where they have to sell their bodies and they already have given up so much in life. The idea that these downtrodden souls are being killed just because they appear expendable is really frickin' creepy and sad. (Maybe I'm just being fed too mucch hooplah and hootenanny about the poor whores of the world, so I'd love to hearsome good ol' fashioned devils advocate here. "I'm a whore and I'm incorporated, have a big house, health insurance, I am even on the PTA.") Next time you see one, give a whore a hug. (They might just charge you though.)
Monday, December 11, 2006
Friday, December 08, 2006
Fun photo Friday! #4 Clause-trophobia
Scared of Santa?
This fun photo Friday is brought to you by: http://www.southflorida.com/events/sfl-scaredsanta,0,2245506.photogallery?index=1
This fun photo Friday is brought to you by: http://www.southflorida.com/events/sfl-scaredsanta,0,2245506.photogallery?index=1
Truth in advertising...
I had my car washed about a week ago and had purchased a small air freshener to replace the one I currently have. I usually go for the "coconut" or "new car smell" varieties as they seem to jive with the California driving adventures I have. The air freshener I had purchased is a small wooden surfboard that I had assumed was coconut, just like last time, but alas it said ck one on the package when I opened it. The fact that my car was about to smell like ck one wasn't really an issue last night, I have fond memories of that cologne craze. I remembered getting some in my stocking one year, allowing me to smell just like every other boy and girl at school. In case you don't know, It was like a massive fog of ck rolling through the halls in the 90's for those of us fortunate enough to be in school during the "Fresh Prince" years.
This morning, I opened my car door and almost retched. My car smells like a fucking urinal cake. Ladies, you may not know what that smells like, so imagine the sweet smell of chemical burn, windex, and urine. I thought for a split second that maybe it would calm down in a few days and actually resemble ck one. (I'm sure some of you out there are thinking: "ck one DOES smell like a urinal cake, why didn't he go back and get the coconut?".... you may be right.) After about a mile on my way to work, with the windows open in what we consider frigid cold (60 degrees), I ripped the damn thing off my rear view and hucked it into the street. Perhaps next time I won't aim for oncoming traffic and nail the side window of a Jetta, but it really did feel great. The smell hadn't fully faded by the time I got in to work, so tonight will be the test to see how much has baked into my car permanently...
This morning, I opened my car door and almost retched. My car smells like a fucking urinal cake. Ladies, you may not know what that smells like, so imagine the sweet smell of chemical burn, windex, and urine. I thought for a split second that maybe it would calm down in a few days and actually resemble ck one. (I'm sure some of you out there are thinking: "ck one DOES smell like a urinal cake, why didn't he go back and get the coconut?".... you may be right.) After about a mile on my way to work, with the windows open in what we consider frigid cold (60 degrees), I ripped the damn thing off my rear view and hucked it into the street. Perhaps next time I won't aim for oncoming traffic and nail the side window of a Jetta, but it really did feel great. The smell hadn't fully faded by the time I got in to work, so tonight will be the test to see how much has baked into my car permanently...
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Joy to the world, I can't feel my arms!
So it's Thursday and postings have been a tad sparse this week, but I'm mainly just trying to survive the week. Last night a few friends and I had a mini bitch session party with pizza! We got to catch up on how bad eachother's lives are going, how much we hate or don't hate our jobs... It was just what the doctor ordered. It's funny how sometimes I forget how much fun "girl's night" can be. I hang around with so many MOs at "local gay bar" that I don't realize how much I miss hangin' with the chicks. My posse used to be full of awesome females... It was the gay boys who were fairly sparse in my life. Hell I had never had a group of gay male friends 'till about grad school. It was nice to settle in, have a glass o' wine and just listen to the bitching commence. I think we all needed to vent a bit. (PS: "Ghostie" I love your place and your really cute animals.)
Other things of note this week, a new Friday event at "local gay bar" is starting at the end of the year by an infamous LA gay promoter... AKA: Zack may be out of a job on Fridays and now needs to consider taking back Saturdays..... Is that worth it? How badly do I need this second job? Stay tuned to find out... Even if the position is still mine on Friday, I'm not sure I want to work there with the crowd THAT promoter's events bring in. If Tuesdays crowd is any idication of the horror to come, forget it!
Let's see...what else..... OH! I missed my mom's B-day by one day. I have never felt that spacey and awful before. I can tell I totally disappointed her. I had every intention to call on Monday night and wish her a happy b-day, and instead discovered it was on Sunday and I had missed it. What an ass I am... I'm sorry again Mom, I can't say it enough. I kept having flashbacks to "Sixteen Candles" while talking to her. Oh how Sam must have felt!
I'm finally gearing up for Christmas... Most of you who know me, understand that I want nothing to do with the holiday until December has finally arrived. I am the guy who says things like "Jesus, soon Christmas is gonna start in July!" "Look at all this tacky crap they've already slung everywhere and Halloween only ended yesterday!" This bitching and moaning ends abruptly and I begin to embrace it all, right around now.
Yesterday, I was flipping through the Seattle Men's Chorus mailer magazine, and couldn't help but reminisce. (Alright bitches, don't judge me... I used to be in the Seattle Men's Chorus, and I liked it... alot.) Every Christmas the chorus does a huge holiday concert at Benaroya Hall in Seattle. It was so exciting and such an honor to stand up on that stage with them. I've been back a few times and seen them perform, it's always so good. One Christmas season when I was a Sophomore in undergrad, I made a bad judgement call. I was living at the time in a large 4 story house on 12th ave. and every now and then would smoke up a little with my roommate, we'll call her "Hippie." Hippie had a new dealer, apparently, and forgot to tell Zack about the new weed experiment he was about to undergo. Two long tokes off a Jerry Garcia head pipe, and Zack was getting too high too quickly. I went to my room, shut the door and prayed when I woke up all would be fine. Finals were over, and all I had to do was get through the next day of parties and meet and greets with teachers and visitors. I woke up and everything seemed to be in stop animation, both visually and skin sensations. I. Was. Freaking. Out! I think my Teacher knew I was on something when she said hello and I lept back and slammed my back into a locker. I still had three more concerts with the chorus to get through (one of which my family would be attending) and all sorts of x-mas shopping to do. I remember moments where I was trying to pull money out of my pocket to pay for stuff and it felt like I was digging into a can of live worms. I must have looked so scared.
That Friday night, I went to perform with the chorus unsure of whether or not I could get through it. One of the Upper Baritones, and a friend of mine took one look at me and knew something was up. He was a doctor, so I told him everything hoping I wouldn't be stuck like this forever. He talked me down out of my freak out and said that the pot was most likely laced with something, possibly pcp. These effect would only last as long as it was in my system and my body had probably had an allergic reaction to it. He was so nice... He helped me get into my tux, which is a hard feat to accomplish when everything you touch seems to be in stop animation too. I stood on stage and sang, and survived. I saw my family briefly telling them I didn't feel too well, and would see them the next week for Christmas. I discovered that shopping for family while still drugged out from some strange pot you smoked with a roommate produces humorous results. I bought dad a huge thing of popcorn kernels, mom got a crappy blowdryer, sis got a weird christmas cd, and for some reason the cat got a huge stocking. I relaized when they were tearing into the packaging, I had no idea what was inside. Yay, Christmas!
Memo to me: never smoke up with that Hippie or any other again!
Other things of note this week, a new Friday event at "local gay bar" is starting at the end of the year by an infamous LA gay promoter... AKA: Zack may be out of a job on Fridays and now needs to consider taking back Saturdays..... Is that worth it? How badly do I need this second job? Stay tuned to find out... Even if the position is still mine on Friday, I'm not sure I want to work there with the crowd THAT promoter's events bring in. If Tuesdays crowd is any idication of the horror to come, forget it!
Let's see...what else..... OH! I missed my mom's B-day by one day. I have never felt that spacey and awful before. I can tell I totally disappointed her. I had every intention to call on Monday night and wish her a happy b-day, and instead discovered it was on Sunday and I had missed it. What an ass I am... I'm sorry again Mom, I can't say it enough. I kept having flashbacks to "Sixteen Candles" while talking to her. Oh how Sam must have felt!
I'm finally gearing up for Christmas... Most of you who know me, understand that I want nothing to do with the holiday until December has finally arrived. I am the guy who says things like "Jesus, soon Christmas is gonna start in July!" "Look at all this tacky crap they've already slung everywhere and Halloween only ended yesterday!" This bitching and moaning ends abruptly and I begin to embrace it all, right around now.
Yesterday, I was flipping through the Seattle Men's Chorus mailer magazine, and couldn't help but reminisce. (Alright bitches, don't judge me... I used to be in the Seattle Men's Chorus, and I liked it... alot.) Every Christmas the chorus does a huge holiday concert at Benaroya Hall in Seattle. It was so exciting and such an honor to stand up on that stage with them. I've been back a few times and seen them perform, it's always so good. One Christmas season when I was a Sophomore in undergrad, I made a bad judgement call. I was living at the time in a large 4 story house on 12th ave. and every now and then would smoke up a little with my roommate, we'll call her "Hippie." Hippie had a new dealer, apparently, and forgot to tell Zack about the new weed experiment he was about to undergo. Two long tokes off a Jerry Garcia head pipe, and Zack was getting too high too quickly. I went to my room, shut the door and prayed when I woke up all would be fine. Finals were over, and all I had to do was get through the next day of parties and meet and greets with teachers and visitors. I woke up and everything seemed to be in stop animation, both visually and skin sensations. I. Was. Freaking. Out! I think my Teacher knew I was on something when she said hello and I lept back and slammed my back into a locker. I still had three more concerts with the chorus to get through (one of which my family would be attending) and all sorts of x-mas shopping to do. I remember moments where I was trying to pull money out of my pocket to pay for stuff and it felt like I was digging into a can of live worms. I must have looked so scared.
That Friday night, I went to perform with the chorus unsure of whether or not I could get through it. One of the Upper Baritones, and a friend of mine took one look at me and knew something was up. He was a doctor, so I told him everything hoping I wouldn't be stuck like this forever. He talked me down out of my freak out and said that the pot was most likely laced with something, possibly pcp. These effect would only last as long as it was in my system and my body had probably had an allergic reaction to it. He was so nice... He helped me get into my tux, which is a hard feat to accomplish when everything you touch seems to be in stop animation too. I stood on stage and sang, and survived. I saw my family briefly telling them I didn't feel too well, and would see them the next week for Christmas. I discovered that shopping for family while still drugged out from some strange pot you smoked with a roommate produces humorous results. I bought dad a huge thing of popcorn kernels, mom got a crappy blowdryer, sis got a weird christmas cd, and for some reason the cat got a huge stocking. I relaized when they were tearing into the packaging, I had no idea what was inside. Yay, Christmas!
Memo to me: never smoke up with that Hippie or any other again!
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Hide Your Children!
I know the trailer remixes are getting a little old, but this one at least made me laugh, which none have done since "Shining."
And now....Mary Poppins re-mixed.
And now....Mary Poppins re-mixed.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Your Monday Morning Mullet!
Everybody loves that freaky lookin' Jane Child! Makes me want to throw on a leather jacket and stroll the streets!
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Friday, December 01, 2006
Fun photo Friday! #3
Yikes....
awww....the baby is so cute, and yummy...
Thanks Angie for turning me on......to this great needlepoint!
And here's a taco for ya!
Thursday, November 30, 2006
The electric doors from HELL!
To break the tradition this week of posting videos, I thought I'd actually hunker down and tell ya a story!
When I was about 6 years old, I enjoyed going shopping with my mother. We would go to the photomat together, the little one down on foothill that you could drive through. We would always do the grocery shopping together. I loved picking out plants at the nursery with her as we both seemed to share the same distaste for scraggly annuals. One day, our shopping adventure took a dark turn for the worse.
Thrifty was your basic drug store with an ice-cream counter in front. (Why they put the ice-cream section in the sunny front window is beyond me, with all the potential melting... Also, I believe Thrifty is now owned by Rite-Aid, and still sports the same basic red and blue scheme. ) The store was nestled back from the road in your very typical, late 70's shopping center. We entered the store as my mother dragged me back from the box of free kittens out front, and I asked to get a sip of water at the drinking fountain. This was really a strategic move on my part, it allowed me to wander off unsupervised for a few minutes and be at the front window of the store staring at the kitties I longed to own. I took a few sips and cautiously approached the glass window that the electric door slid back on.
*Sidenote: you know how electric doors these days slide into a pocket of sorts and no longer just back on themselves? I'm part of the reason for that....
I pushed my face against the warm glass and started to make faces at the sweet little felines. They launched up and played with the glass hoping to get through. In the periphery of my sight, I noticed a large woman in black spandex approach the door. In a split second I heard a whirring sound approach and grab my lips. *SPLAT!* The area between the door and window now had a fan of my blood dripping down it. "Oh Christ! Help!" the fat lady scremed as she ran toward me, making the door retract for a split second and then catch my upper lip harder this time. Within seconds the doors released their grip and I wandered to the middle of the entry screming and crying for my mommy. "What the fuck happened here?!" My mother blurted as she approached, sweeping me into her arms and carrying me off to the hospital. I distinctly remember the manager spewing lots of "please don't sue" "Free Ice-cream" etc... all most likely in the hopes of saving his job and the company a serious lawsuit.
Several stiches later and some serious pain, I got myself one hell of a story. How many kids can say they have had their lips caught in an electric door?
When I was about 6 years old, I enjoyed going shopping with my mother. We would go to the photomat together, the little one down on foothill that you could drive through. We would always do the grocery shopping together. I loved picking out plants at the nursery with her as we both seemed to share the same distaste for scraggly annuals. One day, our shopping adventure took a dark turn for the worse.
Thrifty was your basic drug store with an ice-cream counter in front. (Why they put the ice-cream section in the sunny front window is beyond me, with all the potential melting... Also, I believe Thrifty is now owned by Rite-Aid, and still sports the same basic red and blue scheme. ) The store was nestled back from the road in your very typical, late 70's shopping center. We entered the store as my mother dragged me back from the box of free kittens out front, and I asked to get a sip of water at the drinking fountain. This was really a strategic move on my part, it allowed me to wander off unsupervised for a few minutes and be at the front window of the store staring at the kitties I longed to own. I took a few sips and cautiously approached the glass window that the electric door slid back on.
*Sidenote: you know how electric doors these days slide into a pocket of sorts and no longer just back on themselves? I'm part of the reason for that....
I pushed my face against the warm glass and started to make faces at the sweet little felines. They launched up and played with the glass hoping to get through. In the periphery of my sight, I noticed a large woman in black spandex approach the door. In a split second I heard a whirring sound approach and grab my lips. *SPLAT!* The area between the door and window now had a fan of my blood dripping down it. "Oh Christ! Help!" the fat lady scremed as she ran toward me, making the door retract for a split second and then catch my upper lip harder this time. Within seconds the doors released their grip and I wandered to the middle of the entry screming and crying for my mommy. "What the fuck happened here?!" My mother blurted as she approached, sweeping me into her arms and carrying me off to the hospital. I distinctly remember the manager spewing lots of "please don't sue" "Free Ice-cream" etc... all most likely in the hopes of saving his job and the company a serious lawsuit.
Several stiches later and some serious pain, I got myself one hell of a story. How many kids can say they have had their lips caught in an electric door?
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Ever get that not so fresh feeling?
Oy..... serious Migraine action this morning.... It's been a long week, and the throbbing skull doesn't really help anything. Anyway, here's alittle humor for your Thursday afternoon...
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
What's in a dream? #2
I had the craziest dream last night... (All my dreams are frickin' weird!) But it was actually a very lovely dream. I was some sort of actor in a musical at a very old and probably important college. (You could tell, apparently, by the abundance of brick) I was backstage and met up with this strange and handsome man... David Lynch. (Who, in real life isn't all that attractive to me hehehe) I ended up talking for a spell and got his number, he was adamant that I call. Skip to us on dates... Imagine a montage of us strolling the park, giggling as we throw food at eachother and play tag, us walking out of the movies holding hands. (I think we went to go see "apocalypse now.") Some passionate kissing, the black phone rings in the corner and I woke up. It was awesome! I dreamed like David Lynch and somehow made out him!
God bless our war of terror!
This video just shows me how proud I should be as an american of the hard work we're doing over in Iraq... What sick fuck would really taunt children of a downtrodden occupied country with the promise of water, and enjoy every second?
Monday, November 27, 2006
Sunday, November 26, 2006
What have I done?
Well, every now and then there is or should be a more serious topic put into my little blogosphere, and I guess this may be my first. I live here in LA. LA is a wonderful and hateful little town that resides permanently on a faultline. This ensures that any and all bitches who spend money on plastic sugery only do it with the knowledge that at any moment they could plummet down a crevice with perky breasts and six pack abs, all before breakfast.
Don't get me wrong, I WAS born here, but moving back hasn't been the treat it was orginally imagined. In my head, LA was warmer and filled with opportunity. (Well, the warm part was way too correct this past Summer.) I've had some great near misses, but "Opportunity" has yet to kick my door in. Consider this my bitchy rant if you will, nobody reads this shit anyhow...Any comments? Nope.
I love LA... How many people can say they are an orginal, born here, native?! That's rare... Right? But I'm disenchanted as of late. I am stuck in a job, that pays, but I hate it... Albeit it is in the field of my interest, but just on the fringe of what I want to do. When do I get to use that over-priced, masters fucking degree of mine?! I have yet to enjoy the supposed benefits of being "Master Bunker!" Fuck me!
I am lucky enough to have a great group of supportive friends. This city is teeming with great people either in the same boat, or just as wonderfully disenchanted. At present, most of my friends happen to be coupled. This isn't a new occurence in my life as most of it has been spent in a long term relationship, or the obligatory "this is my sexless, single friend Zack.... He's really funny...." They at least have found good partnerships. Over the past year, I have to say any of my friends who paired up found really great people, who compliment them so well and will most likely last beyond what I've experienced! I do remember times where everyone was paired up with seriously bad choices and suddenly my singlehood seemed a safer bet.
I went to a really wonderful party at a friend's house earlier this evening. (The risotto was awesome, you know who you are.) It was a good experience to see several types of people I don't normally come into contact with. There were the good, cute, couples in their bliss... There were the bitter, single 24 year olds gettin a little tipsy... There were the near stalkerish young girls recounting their scary stories of sleeping with thier teachers... But over-all it was so comforting to see that there are so many people out there just wanting or trying to connect. Working at "local gay bar" can make me jaded sometimes with the idea of actually being able to connect. I believe that getting away from there more and more might give me some perspective.
I just am itching for something new. I'd love a new person, boyfriend, friend, or person of interest in my life. Maybe it's the presence of Winter and Fall but I seem to be in a nesting phase. As convoluted, and ill fated it was, I had my eye on someone. These little crushes are always just that. From the get go, being rational and knowing the outcome always softens the blow. Soon, the crush on someone will be more than, who knows? I'd light a candle and stay home with a good book If I could, but how is that ever gonna change my life? Don't get me wrong, I've read some life changing books, but is it gonna keep me warm? If I light that book on fire it will, but that won't jive with THIS bitch's renters insurance! Sometimes, bucking up can just be exhausting. Winter in LA: we don't have to shovel sunshine!
Don't get me wrong, I WAS born here, but moving back hasn't been the treat it was orginally imagined. In my head, LA was warmer and filled with opportunity. (Well, the warm part was way too correct this past Summer.) I've had some great near misses, but "Opportunity" has yet to kick my door in. Consider this my bitchy rant if you will, nobody reads this shit anyhow...Any comments? Nope.
I love LA... How many people can say they are an orginal, born here, native?! That's rare... Right? But I'm disenchanted as of late. I am stuck in a job, that pays, but I hate it... Albeit it is in the field of my interest, but just on the fringe of what I want to do. When do I get to use that over-priced, masters fucking degree of mine?! I have yet to enjoy the supposed benefits of being "Master Bunker!" Fuck me!
I am lucky enough to have a great group of supportive friends. This city is teeming with great people either in the same boat, or just as wonderfully disenchanted. At present, most of my friends happen to be coupled. This isn't a new occurence in my life as most of it has been spent in a long term relationship, or the obligatory "this is my sexless, single friend Zack.... He's really funny...." They at least have found good partnerships. Over the past year, I have to say any of my friends who paired up found really great people, who compliment them so well and will most likely last beyond what I've experienced! I do remember times where everyone was paired up with seriously bad choices and suddenly my singlehood seemed a safer bet.
I went to a really wonderful party at a friend's house earlier this evening. (The risotto was awesome, you know who you are.) It was a good experience to see several types of people I don't normally come into contact with. There were the good, cute, couples in their bliss... There were the bitter, single 24 year olds gettin a little tipsy... There were the near stalkerish young girls recounting their scary stories of sleeping with thier teachers... But over-all it was so comforting to see that there are so many people out there just wanting or trying to connect. Working at "local gay bar" can make me jaded sometimes with the idea of actually being able to connect. I believe that getting away from there more and more might give me some perspective.
I just am itching for something new. I'd love a new person, boyfriend, friend, or person of interest in my life. Maybe it's the presence of Winter and Fall but I seem to be in a nesting phase. As convoluted, and ill fated it was, I had my eye on someone. These little crushes are always just that. From the get go, being rational and knowing the outcome always softens the blow. Soon, the crush on someone will be more than, who knows? I'd light a candle and stay home with a good book If I could, but how is that ever gonna change my life? Don't get me wrong, I've read some life changing books, but is it gonna keep me warm? If I light that book on fire it will, but that won't jive with THIS bitch's renters insurance! Sometimes, bucking up can just be exhausting. Winter in LA: we don't have to shovel sunshine!
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Pierce my smurf while you're down there...
The funneist SNL TV Funhouse Ever! (Sorry for the overload on videos, but it's just addictive this damn youtube!
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Videos I remade in my garage....
When I was 12, I got a brand new super-8 videocamera for Christmas. Thus began a new fascination I had with recreating the really gay-ass music videos I loved. My friend Matt Copper and I would enlist his sister, our friends, and sometimes even pets to play the parts in our new twisted game! We listened to these groups on the bus, in the car, in our bedrooms, and especially out of the Jukebox at Godfathers Pizza in Issaquah, WA. This is part of our formative years musically, don't judge! Below you will find some of the highlighted videos we re-created, and hopefully someday soon I will find a way to upload the re-makes.... I'll die of embarrasment, but it's too funny not to share.
Ahhhh Tara Kemp Rocked my world. The colorful backgrounds, the constant use of shadows of fans and touching herself... How could she go wrong? (Note: this was the easiest to re-create)
Ok faggy obsession, I know, but I just loved them. Imagine your gay best friend's sister, in heels too big for her, tripping around the garage while you tilt the camera across tin-foil and blanket covered walls, and you can picture our version.
Kinda boring, kinda long.... kinda fun to make, but it sure didn't look the same!
Ahhhh Tara Kemp Rocked my world. The colorful backgrounds, the constant use of shadows of fans and touching herself... How could she go wrong? (Note: this was the easiest to re-create)
Ok faggy obsession, I know, but I just loved them. Imagine your gay best friend's sister, in heels too big for her, tripping around the garage while you tilt the camera across tin-foil and blanket covered walls, and you can picture our version.
Kinda boring, kinda long.... kinda fun to make, but it sure didn't look the same!
Oh the possibilities!
I can only imagine what other things your bellybutton could be in the world of tattooing?!
Monday, November 20, 2006
Saturday, November 18, 2006
What's in a dream?
Really weird shit, that's what!
It all started when I walked into the great gates of Disneyworld.... not your typical Disneyworld, my creepy version in my mind. There were bizarre rides like "Sub Disaster" "The Fling: an airborne deathdefying experience" and "The Lipstick Traces Boudoir." After trying a few out, I noticed it was getting dark and it was time for the firework show. My friend had told me how spectacularly different they were here, and suddenly I knew why. I was dressed as peter pan and so were my friends as we flew over this river and the fireworks began! We touched down on the ground in a strange firework lit empty city (obviously part of the show) and we were wearing tactical combat gear. Someone handed me this big gun that shot these weird skin tighetning globules at real people (so you don't hurt eachother too much, just annoying zips of pain) and bullets at the horrific grouping of zombies that approached. I had to ask myslef, are these real Zombies? Wow, Disney is thourough in their realism. We blew their heads of, made them attack eachother by spreading brains on their faces. We even set a honey trap to bring the ants out, which apparently in this dream Zombies loved to lick up. Then, we shot them down one by one. We had saved the day and fireworks erupted around us in huge bursts of joy and thunder! ..................um what?
It all started when I walked into the great gates of Disneyworld.... not your typical Disneyworld, my creepy version in my mind. There were bizarre rides like "Sub Disaster" "The Fling: an airborne deathdefying experience" and "The Lipstick Traces Boudoir." After trying a few out, I noticed it was getting dark and it was time for the firework show. My friend had told me how spectacularly different they were here, and suddenly I knew why. I was dressed as peter pan and so were my friends as we flew over this river and the fireworks began! We touched down on the ground in a strange firework lit empty city (obviously part of the show) and we were wearing tactical combat gear. Someone handed me this big gun that shot these weird skin tighetning globules at real people (so you don't hurt eachother too much, just annoying zips of pain) and bullets at the horrific grouping of zombies that approached. I had to ask myslef, are these real Zombies? Wow, Disney is thourough in their realism. We blew their heads of, made them attack eachother by spreading brains on their faces. We even set a honey trap to bring the ants out, which apparently in this dream Zombies loved to lick up. Then, we shot them down one by one. We had saved the day and fireworks erupted around us in huge bursts of joy and thunder! ..................um what?
Friday, November 17, 2006
Hate Hatey
For those of you who I know pretty well, you are most likely sick of me saying how much I hate my current job in the industry, let's call it "Hate Hatey." (clever code name...) Well, here's a little posting from Craigslist my friend, who is in the same boat, found... even though the subject of our work is different, it says it all:
"Title: I'm your Assistant, Not an Ass
Subject: Ok guys, I realize that I am your assistant, but if this relationship is going to work, I will need your full cooperation.
1. I love all of you, I admire your dedication to your work and I understand that you all have PhDs and deserve respect, however, I deserve respect too. Having the copy machine jam while I’m making you 400 copies does not make me stupid. It does however create a nuisance for me to have to disassemble the machine to find that a crumpled copy of a crossword puzzle that you were doing earlier has been lodged in the rollers.
2. I am not a pitiful beauty school dropout. I too have a degree and spent 3 years previous to meeting you lovely folks as a journalist. I am very educated, well read, articulate, and resourceful. I assure you that the baby talk is not necessary when asking me mail a letter for you.
3. I am here to help you, I even enjoy helping you, but I will not put a roll of tape on the dispenser for you. Don’t tell me that you don’t know how, I know you do. I mean seriously, you have a Nobel Prize—work it out.
4. Yes my background is in journalism and my grasp on the English language is perhaps a little better than most, but I do not know every word in the dictionary. So please, do not taunt me when I can’t immediately come up with a synonym for “dowsing”. I’m sure eight years of post-secondary education have exposed you to a thesaurus.
5. I apologize that I forgot to send your fax, but keep in mind that I have five of you asking me to put tape on the dispenser, not to mention real responsibilities like calling the help desk to fix your computer after you downloaded copious amounts of pictures of large-breasted women. I understand you have needs, after all, I’m a man too, but please download porn on your home computer. By the way, I will no longer sit on any of the chairs in your office.
6. When I am away from my desk, I assure you that I will not be gone for long. There is no problem that I can think of that is so urgent that it must be addressed while I am in midstream at the urinal. The two of us should never have a conversation where a penis is exposed.
7. Being your assistant does not make me a woman, it makes me an assistant. I can not give you fashion advice and will not help you pick out a tie, although I would seriously rethink wearing a brown belt with black shoes. This brings me to my next point.
8. Yes I am gay, but I am not an assistant because I am gay. I am an assistant because I needed a job and you pay me reasonably well. I do appreciate the fact that you care enough to ask about my boyfriend, but it is not funny to ask me how the wife is. Okay, you got me there it is funny, but it is still unprofessional and offensive.
9. What makes you think that it is okay for you to ask me for a loan? You make six times what I do and I do not care if you really need a latte. I really need a blowjob, but there are appropriate people to ask for certain items. Don’t ask me for $2.50 and I won’t ask you do get on your knees.
10. For Christ’s sake, learn my name. Calling me any name that starts with the same letter as my own is not “good enough”. I realize that I may remind you of another person in the office, but believe it or not, we are two entirely different people. Look, as far as I am concerned, the five of you are all just balding, fat, middle-aged men, but amazingly enough, I manage to tell you apart—if by nothing else, the pattern of your pit stains."
Just reading it makes me feel better.
"Title: I'm your Assistant, Not an Ass
Subject: Ok guys, I realize that I am your assistant, but if this relationship is going to work, I will need your full cooperation.
1. I love all of you, I admire your dedication to your work and I understand that you all have PhDs and deserve respect, however, I deserve respect too. Having the copy machine jam while I’m making you 400 copies does not make me stupid. It does however create a nuisance for me to have to disassemble the machine to find that a crumpled copy of a crossword puzzle that you were doing earlier has been lodged in the rollers.
2. I am not a pitiful beauty school dropout. I too have a degree and spent 3 years previous to meeting you lovely folks as a journalist. I am very educated, well read, articulate, and resourceful. I assure you that the baby talk is not necessary when asking me mail a letter for you.
3. I am here to help you, I even enjoy helping you, but I will not put a roll of tape on the dispenser for you. Don’t tell me that you don’t know how, I know you do. I mean seriously, you have a Nobel Prize—work it out.
4. Yes my background is in journalism and my grasp on the English language is perhaps a little better than most, but I do not know every word in the dictionary. So please, do not taunt me when I can’t immediately come up with a synonym for “dowsing”. I’m sure eight years of post-secondary education have exposed you to a thesaurus.
5. I apologize that I forgot to send your fax, but keep in mind that I have five of you asking me to put tape on the dispenser, not to mention real responsibilities like calling the help desk to fix your computer after you downloaded copious amounts of pictures of large-breasted women. I understand you have needs, after all, I’m a man too, but please download porn on your home computer. By the way, I will no longer sit on any of the chairs in your office.
6. When I am away from my desk, I assure you that I will not be gone for long. There is no problem that I can think of that is so urgent that it must be addressed while I am in midstream at the urinal. The two of us should never have a conversation where a penis is exposed.
7. Being your assistant does not make me a woman, it makes me an assistant. I can not give you fashion advice and will not help you pick out a tie, although I would seriously rethink wearing a brown belt with black shoes. This brings me to my next point.
8. Yes I am gay, but I am not an assistant because I am gay. I am an assistant because I needed a job and you pay me reasonably well. I do appreciate the fact that you care enough to ask about my boyfriend, but it is not funny to ask me how the wife is. Okay, you got me there it is funny, but it is still unprofessional and offensive.
9. What makes you think that it is okay for you to ask me for a loan? You make six times what I do and I do not care if you really need a latte. I really need a blowjob, but there are appropriate people to ask for certain items. Don’t ask me for $2.50 and I won’t ask you do get on your knees.
10. For Christ’s sake, learn my name. Calling me any name that starts with the same letter as my own is not “good enough”. I realize that I may remind you of another person in the office, but believe it or not, we are two entirely different people. Look, as far as I am concerned, the five of you are all just balding, fat, middle-aged men, but amazingly enough, I manage to tell you apart—if by nothing else, the pattern of your pit stains."
Just reading it makes me feel better.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Caligula!
The funniest, and best parody movie trailer I've seen in quite a while! Imagine if they really made this movie?! (Thanks go to Mark for finding this!)
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Itchin' for the tryptophantastic!
Normally, Thanksgiving is a holiday of very little excitement for me. In my past it has been filled with angst, sickness, bloating, and football. For those of you who don't know me well, these are things I am not very fond of. The eating, the good food, the companionship, the wine, the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the laziness, the abundance of pumpkin... these are the things I adore about it.
My mother always made a big spread even when only my father and me were left. She would start the night before prepping and sauteeing, and thawing anything she thought she might need the next morning. I always woke up late in the day to the faint aroma of cooking and the sound of clanging pans and screaming. Don't get me wrong, my parents aren't the type to have major screamfests every night, but Thanksgiving would usually take bickering to a whole new level. By the time the food would hit the table, grudges and unkind words were left behind, for the most part. The meal was always the typical fare: Turkey, yams, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce usually out of a can. Every now and then my mom would: "try something new" she'd often say with glee as we all sat down. This was never a fun moment, when you realize all the things you like about the holiday hang in the balance.... what did she fuck with this year? Most years the turkey was left as is... always juicy and tasty, with the awesome gravy my dad makes! (sidenote: My ex and I tried to re-create the recipe and it ended up tasting like "cum" according to our houseguests that fine holiday. It was appropriate, I guess, since it was made by two fags playing house for Thanksgiving.) The thing she still to this day will try to force down my throat are her damn creamed onions! Yuck! This apparently was some sick concoction from her years as a child growing up in Boston. Imagine biting into a semi-cold, frothy, cream covered eyeball and you'll get the idea. She loved attemting real cranberry sauce... always a nasty paste. She did however try apples and some other weird fruit mixture in the stuffing one year and it was pretty good. I'm not gonna just rank on mom here, I should also mention my sister's frozen turkey disaster party of 1994, and my second attempt at Thanksgiving with the next ex, where I just let him cook as I am not good in the kitchen myself. I must say, the crazy ex bf could cook.
Thanksgiving often brought woe, not just burnt/frozen turkey to my family. There was the year my loser brother talked his way back into the house for Thanksgiving, only to ruin it. There was the year my friend (We'll call her Burger) came over with her brother because her dad died that morning and her mom wouldn't come out of the bathroom. (He died a hero though Burger, I'll never forget that day.) We even had one event the next morning that marked our home forever... I can smell it now.
My dad always like to make turkey soup with the leftover cacass from Thanksgiving. He'll drop the whole thing in a pot and simmer it overnight and strain whats left. This year in particular, he put the stove-top on high and went to bed. Around 5 in the morning, the smoke began to billow enough from the burning bones and melting metal pot that the fire alarm went off. I've never smeeled something so thick that it stuck in my nose like that. It was as if I instantly inhaled charcoal dust and it adhered to my insides. After many "dumbass" coments and a fresh coat of paint on every surface, our house appeared the same as it was before. The smell never fully went away, thank god for moving!
This year marks what is probably the first time I'm just generally pleased with the idea of Thanksgiving. I'll be attending a gathering at my sister's Aunt's house. (To understand why she isn't my full aunt, Imagine the brady bunch family's situation.... two families come together... I'm the love child... there you have it) Her Aunt is awesome! She made a great spread last year. I had a great time even while my sister's Grandmother called us fat. I think after how hard this year has been for me, I'm just excited for anything with warmth, companionship, family, and generosity. I couldn't be more pleased with the idea of Thanksgiving.
My mother always made a big spread even when only my father and me were left. She would start the night before prepping and sauteeing, and thawing anything she thought she might need the next morning. I always woke up late in the day to the faint aroma of cooking and the sound of clanging pans and screaming. Don't get me wrong, my parents aren't the type to have major screamfests every night, but Thanksgiving would usually take bickering to a whole new level. By the time the food would hit the table, grudges and unkind words were left behind, for the most part. The meal was always the typical fare: Turkey, yams, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce usually out of a can. Every now and then my mom would: "try something new" she'd often say with glee as we all sat down. This was never a fun moment, when you realize all the things you like about the holiday hang in the balance.... what did she fuck with this year? Most years the turkey was left as is... always juicy and tasty, with the awesome gravy my dad makes! (sidenote: My ex and I tried to re-create the recipe and it ended up tasting like "cum" according to our houseguests that fine holiday. It was appropriate, I guess, since it was made by two fags playing house for Thanksgiving.) The thing she still to this day will try to force down my throat are her damn creamed onions! Yuck! This apparently was some sick concoction from her years as a child growing up in Boston. Imagine biting into a semi-cold, frothy, cream covered eyeball and you'll get the idea. She loved attemting real cranberry sauce... always a nasty paste. She did however try apples and some other weird fruit mixture in the stuffing one year and it was pretty good. I'm not gonna just rank on mom here, I should also mention my sister's frozen turkey disaster party of 1994, and my second attempt at Thanksgiving with the next ex, where I just let him cook as I am not good in the kitchen myself. I must say, the crazy ex bf could cook.
Thanksgiving often brought woe, not just burnt/frozen turkey to my family. There was the year my loser brother talked his way back into the house for Thanksgiving, only to ruin it. There was the year my friend (We'll call her Burger) came over with her brother because her dad died that morning and her mom wouldn't come out of the bathroom. (He died a hero though Burger, I'll never forget that day.) We even had one event the next morning that marked our home forever... I can smell it now.
My dad always like to make turkey soup with the leftover cacass from Thanksgiving. He'll drop the whole thing in a pot and simmer it overnight and strain whats left. This year in particular, he put the stove-top on high and went to bed. Around 5 in the morning, the smoke began to billow enough from the burning bones and melting metal pot that the fire alarm went off. I've never smeeled something so thick that it stuck in my nose like that. It was as if I instantly inhaled charcoal dust and it adhered to my insides. After many "dumbass" coments and a fresh coat of paint on every surface, our house appeared the same as it was before. The smell never fully went away, thank god for moving!
This year marks what is probably the first time I'm just generally pleased with the idea of Thanksgiving. I'll be attending a gathering at my sister's Aunt's house. (To understand why she isn't my full aunt, Imagine the brady bunch family's situation.... two families come together... I'm the love child... there you have it) Her Aunt is awesome! She made a great spread last year. I had a great time even while my sister's Grandmother called us fat. I think after how hard this year has been for me, I'm just excited for anything with warmth, companionship, family, and generosity. I couldn't be more pleased with the idea of Thanksgiving.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Finally, some useful software!
Feelin' blue? Well, before ya' off yourself you should get a load of the "Suicide Letter Generator!"
http://www.dxlab.org/slw/
http://www.dxlab.org/slw/
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Bitch Please!
Girl, it's about time you came to your senses. If this day in your marriage wasn't a red flag that you were losing your mind, what was?!
Friday, November 10, 2006
Space Muslims
Back in Seattle, there were these fascinating women my friends and I named: The Space Muslims. You could often find this duo of homeless women on the corner of Pine and Broadway. They would sometimes set up camp in front of the Broadway Performance Hall at Seattle Central Community College. Among their array of items were drapes of multi-colored fabric, or simple tarps to keep away the rain. Nestled under you would find amazing hand-crafted shrines, I later found out were devoted to Kali: the godess of creation and destruction.
While taking a non-fiction writing class in college, these women captivated my attention enough for me to interview them for a paper. I have since lost the paper I wrote, but it was a simple matter of fact re-telling of their story and belief systems. See, these women were a living metaphor. Approximately 5 years before I met them, the first woman I met (and the only one allowed to speak according to her) had lost a son.
It went something like this: Her son had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was framed for killing a small girl on their block in the central district of Seattle. He landed in jail and quickly started sucking funds from this woman's bank account to pay for his legal fees. Since she knew she needed spiritual guidance, she went to her local church to commune with Christ. While praying, she felt nothing in return. Shestarted to get angry at God for ignoring her in a time of crisis, and started to wish ill will toward the man that truly did this crime. She flat out wanted the man who put her son in jail, DEAD. At that moment she saw the spiritual being of Kali come to her almost in a ghost-like manner. She had never even heard of Kali before, and needed a quick tutorial from the goddess herself to straighten things out. (Here was where she warned me: BEWARE what you wish of Kali as she giveth and taketh away!) Kali said she would grant but one wish inside this poor woman's heart, but forewarned her that whatever she wished must be a definitive, heartfelt need! She said she "didn't want any part in..... " but it was too late, Kali said her wish was granted. She knew somehow her heart had asked Kali to destroy that man, wherever he may be.
The next morning she awoke to gunfire outside her building. There was a man lying dead in the steet, but the police had told her that it appeared he had been shot from the inside out. Kali had done the first part of their deal, now she wondered how she would pay. That night, she was supposed to win the lottery but Kali had switched the tickets so the person behind her ended up a millionaire. Very Quickly the case went to trial and her son depleted most of her bank account to pay for it. The final blow to her was when her son was sentenced to death, and she realized Kali would be coming for her next. She returned to the church and sent Kali a message: "If you leave me alone, I will burden my soul for you daily. As long as you stay out of my body, I will carry you in spirit as my punishment." She gave away all personal effects, sold her home, and started to create shrines to Kali out of scraps she would find walking the streets. The other woman joined her one day and had not talked since. Together they created a new family, sharing the physical burden of Kali daily. Basically these women were a little crazy, but it is a beautiful metaphor. (To protect ones soul inside, they must strip themselves of everything outside and carry their spiritual foe around on their backs so the evil won't be tempted to dig inside.)
When I met them, they had about 8 shrines total. Each shrine was made of a wheeled cart, or dolly with plexiglass domes that contained images and figures all gold and black. Every time these women moved, it took about 6 trips back and forth to move all that shit. Can you imagine? That is until, they got a van! See how they adorned it below... I miss seeing them each day.
While taking a non-fiction writing class in college, these women captivated my attention enough for me to interview them for a paper. I have since lost the paper I wrote, but it was a simple matter of fact re-telling of their story and belief systems. See, these women were a living metaphor. Approximately 5 years before I met them, the first woman I met (and the only one allowed to speak according to her) had lost a son.
It went something like this: Her son had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was framed for killing a small girl on their block in the central district of Seattle. He landed in jail and quickly started sucking funds from this woman's bank account to pay for his legal fees. Since she knew she needed spiritual guidance, she went to her local church to commune with Christ. While praying, she felt nothing in return. Shestarted to get angry at God for ignoring her in a time of crisis, and started to wish ill will toward the man that truly did this crime. She flat out wanted the man who put her son in jail, DEAD. At that moment she saw the spiritual being of Kali come to her almost in a ghost-like manner. She had never even heard of Kali before, and needed a quick tutorial from the goddess herself to straighten things out. (Here was where she warned me: BEWARE what you wish of Kali as she giveth and taketh away!) Kali said she would grant but one wish inside this poor woman's heart, but forewarned her that whatever she wished must be a definitive, heartfelt need! She said she "didn't want any part in..... " but it was too late, Kali said her wish was granted. She knew somehow her heart had asked Kali to destroy that man, wherever he may be.
The next morning she awoke to gunfire outside her building. There was a man lying dead in the steet, but the police had told her that it appeared he had been shot from the inside out. Kali had done the first part of their deal, now she wondered how she would pay. That night, she was supposed to win the lottery but Kali had switched the tickets so the person behind her ended up a millionaire. Very Quickly the case went to trial and her son depleted most of her bank account to pay for it. The final blow to her was when her son was sentenced to death, and she realized Kali would be coming for her next. She returned to the church and sent Kali a message: "If you leave me alone, I will burden my soul for you daily. As long as you stay out of my body, I will carry you in spirit as my punishment." She gave away all personal effects, sold her home, and started to create shrines to Kali out of scraps she would find walking the streets. The other woman joined her one day and had not talked since. Together they created a new family, sharing the physical burden of Kali daily. Basically these women were a little crazy, but it is a beautiful metaphor. (To protect ones soul inside, they must strip themselves of everything outside and carry their spiritual foe around on their backs so the evil won't be tempted to dig inside.)
When I met them, they had about 8 shrines total. Each shrine was made of a wheeled cart, or dolly with plexiglass domes that contained images and figures all gold and black. Every time these women moved, it took about 6 trips back and forth to move all that shit. Can you imagine? That is until, they got a van! See how they adorned it below... I miss seeing them each day.
Way back when...
The trailer is up for that little film I worked on last. Um...yeah that's all I'm gonna say 'bout that....
You can find it here: http://www.ifilm.com/presents/spiderman3
You can find it here: http://www.ifilm.com/presents/spiderman3
Fun Photo Friday! #2
Um, yummy?
Get your George W Bush Buttplug here!
The Creepiest dressed up cat, ever! Makes me miss going to the fair.
Thanks to Donkey on Wheels for these gems!
Only in....
Only in Seattle: http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Content?oid=101488
Ahh memories... Wish there had been a "skittles crew" when I lived there!
Ahh memories... Wish there had been a "skittles crew" when I lived there!
Thursday, November 09, 2006
A picture a day
While the copious amounts of videos on youtube and the internet of people capturing their visage daily are gorgeous and fascinating, they are getting old. Bitches, please! If I see one more damn pasty face geek compile that shit and set it to piano music, I might just throw my damn computer out the window. Now, this one has a great sense of humor about the whole thing! Kudos!
The More You Know... #2
"If I wanted your opinion, I would kill you and then read your entrails." -A t-shirt seen at the King County Fair in Washington state.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Oh Dear God!
They think I'm from the midland!
| What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio. | |
| The West | |
| Boston | |
| North Central | |
| The Inland North | |
| The South | |
| Philadelphia | |
| The Northeast | |
| What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes | |
The Light in the Piazza
I've been meaning to do a post on this for a while now...
Now, while this poster is a bit atrocious, I have to say I truly loved this show. Great musicals typically get me in the gut. The Light in the Piazza did something a little different: it hit me dead on in the heart. I saw the touring version that opened here in LA at the Ahmanson and this cast rocked my world. I think I benefited by not really knowing much about the plot, or the hearing any real reviews of merit. I walked in and simply soaked up my comp ticket in ignorant bliss.
My favorite thing about this experience was the sweeping music. Guettel's score is one full bodied song after another. I was very surprised to find that some of these songs could be the hardest pieces to sing I've heard hit the stage since Sondheim's heyday. Mind you the lyrics of said songs do lack a punch, but some of the best moments simply are resigned to ahhs and oos... they just took my breath away.
Visually, the designers knew exactly what was needed. The sets were great in their simplicity as it allowed for so many scenes to seamlessly change from one locale to another. With the choreographed changes the show never stopped. My old cohort Mikiko was the assitant scenic designer, and my friend Eyan is curently the Head of Wardrobe for the touring company. (Mikiko got the honor of being thanked in the Tony award acceptance speech of Michael Yeargan, scenic designer. Yes, so jealous, but so jazzed for her.)
The story is very simple in this show, but the passion behind some of these finely acted characters, will make you fall in love with love. I felt like a 13 year old girl giddy with excitement over the prospect of love, how often does that happen to cynical ol' me?
Now, while this poster is a bit atrocious, I have to say I truly loved this show. Great musicals typically get me in the gut. The Light in the Piazza did something a little different: it hit me dead on in the heart. I saw the touring version that opened here in LA at the Ahmanson and this cast rocked my world. I think I benefited by not really knowing much about the plot, or the hearing any real reviews of merit. I walked in and simply soaked up my comp ticket in ignorant bliss.
My favorite thing about this experience was the sweeping music. Guettel's score is one full bodied song after another. I was very surprised to find that some of these songs could be the hardest pieces to sing I've heard hit the stage since Sondheim's heyday. Mind you the lyrics of said songs do lack a punch, but some of the best moments simply are resigned to ahhs and oos... they just took my breath away.
Visually, the designers knew exactly what was needed. The sets were great in their simplicity as it allowed for so many scenes to seamlessly change from one locale to another. With the choreographed changes the show never stopped. My old cohort Mikiko was the assitant scenic designer, and my friend Eyan is curently the Head of Wardrobe for the touring company. (Mikiko got the honor of being thanked in the Tony award acceptance speech of Michael Yeargan, scenic designer. Yes, so jealous, but so jazzed for her.)
The story is very simple in this show, but the passion behind some of these finely acted characters, will make you fall in love with love. I felt like a 13 year old girl giddy with excitement over the prospect of love, how often does that happen to cynical ol' me?
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Workin' the door #1
So another fabulous Friday night drew to a close with me re-thinking my part-time doorman job at "local gay bar." There are times when people say things to you and you have to wonder if they hear their own delivery and think: "why am I saying this?"
To fill you in: I once had a past that included musical theatre and acting, but haven't touched it in quite some time. Every now and then a friend or stranger will bring up the topic: "Gosh, you should act!" or "You'd be really funny on stage!" These quotes are flattering, and even make me think hmmm maybe they are right, but nothing had prepared me for this past evening's quote...
A co-worker at local gay bar started in with: "You should do commercials!" Wow, thanks... "No seriously, you could rake in the cash, they are really looking for that everyman type. They currently want like pudgy funny guys. I have this one friend who was skinny and handsome and couldn't get work to save his life, then he started balding and got this paunch and the parts kept rolling in. You would be like perfect for some commercial with just an average guy!" wow....um...thanks I guess.... (Time for Drink number two...)
Now I know i'm no Adonis, but it got me thinking about he we percieve ourselves. I know, even in my most self-depricating moments, I am still cuter than that guy with the big goiter that comes in "Local Gay Bar" every now and then. I did however suddenly feel a flush of: Oh my god is this the moment we discover we are totally gross to the rest of the human population? Are we resigned to be just perfect for that spot depicting the sad average guy who needs car insurance?! Perhaps this is the fun part of growing up and getting older? thus begins the downward slide... Gone are the days of being the skinny, cute, early twentysomething year old in the corner of the bar giggling with friends. (Something tells me those days were gone about 6 years ago.) However misguided this compliment was, it did give me a wake-up call. Perhpas it's time to aim for better commercial gigs! I know i'll never necessarily end up in one of those Bowflex commercials, but at least I could aim to be healthy cute guy driving car with family and dog in backseat! (You know, like the hot dads you see in line at disneyland.) Perhaps just by aiming higher, a roll as cute guy in cereal commercial could be in my future. I may not be a cereal eater, but I could play one on tv.
To fill you in: I once had a past that included musical theatre and acting, but haven't touched it in quite some time. Every now and then a friend or stranger will bring up the topic: "Gosh, you should act!" or "You'd be really funny on stage!" These quotes are flattering, and even make me think hmmm maybe they are right, but nothing had prepared me for this past evening's quote...
A co-worker at local gay bar started in with: "You should do commercials!" Wow, thanks... "No seriously, you could rake in the cash, they are really looking for that everyman type. They currently want like pudgy funny guys. I have this one friend who was skinny and handsome and couldn't get work to save his life, then he started balding and got this paunch and the parts kept rolling in. You would be like perfect for some commercial with just an average guy!" wow....um...thanks I guess.... (Time for Drink number two...)
Now I know i'm no Adonis, but it got me thinking about he we percieve ourselves. I know, even in my most self-depricating moments, I am still cuter than that guy with the big goiter that comes in "Local Gay Bar" every now and then. I did however suddenly feel a flush of: Oh my god is this the moment we discover we are totally gross to the rest of the human population? Are we resigned to be just perfect for that spot depicting the sad average guy who needs car insurance?! Perhaps this is the fun part of growing up and getting older? thus begins the downward slide... Gone are the days of being the skinny, cute, early twentysomething year old in the corner of the bar giggling with friends. (Something tells me those days were gone about 6 years ago.) However misguided this compliment was, it did give me a wake-up call. Perhpas it's time to aim for better commercial gigs! I know i'll never necessarily end up in one of those Bowflex commercials, but at least I could aim to be healthy cute guy driving car with family and dog in backseat! (You know, like the hot dads you see in line at disneyland.) Perhaps just by aiming higher, a roll as cute guy in cereal commercial could be in my future. I may not be a cereal eater, but I could play one on tv.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Fun Photo Friday! #1
My friend Carlos bought himself a lifesize Power Ranger. Kudos for the additions you made to it's physique!
The Zacki
When I was four, and attending Montrose Christian Montessori School, there was a nice little core of friends I had built for myself. As the school was inevitably small, as most Montessori schools are, we had become a tightknit unstoppable team. Nothing could stand in the way of our great routines, including such great childhood past-times as playing "Divorce Court," "Earthquake," "Plane Crash," "Horror Movie," and another crowd favorite "Car Crash Smackdown." As children growing up in Los Angeles children tended to play such awful things, perhaps to purge the fear of it all.
One Day in late Fall, I remember when we had our first new student enter the classrom. "Class, I'd like to introduce you to your new classmate, ZACK....." I still remeber the shock and horror that ripped through me! ZACK!!?!?!?! Why is his name ZACK too?! Mind you he spells it with a C..H.... making that harsh CH sound, but this was simply not acceptable. Something had to be done.
That night I went home and began to devise a plan. Perhaps, I could be Zack #1 and he could be #2.... No too simple... Maybe the spelling difference is enough, No way! Maybe I can add a letter to mine to make it unique?! And thus the letter I was discovered to be my savior. Zack-i..... this was brilliant. I was ZACK-I ...... I began to write it on all my papers, eventually ditching the last name completely, and got notice from several teachers. "You realize you don't spell your name that way Zack...don't you?" "I do now....I changed it. I am now called Zack-i!" The teachers eventually stopped noticing and I kept right on with my new name and title. One day Zack left our school, soon to be relocated in the far Eastern US. The importance of Zack-i faded, but cemented as a well worn nickname. Skip, our neighbor, had made a firm pact with me to never utter Zack in my presence again, simply replacing it with my new full namesake. To this day I still hear "Zack-i" ring out from the mouths of family and friends and I kinda like it.
I was a very strange child.
One Day in late Fall, I remember when we had our first new student enter the classrom. "Class, I'd like to introduce you to your new classmate, ZACK....." I still remeber the shock and horror that ripped through me! ZACK!!?!?!?! Why is his name ZACK too?! Mind you he spells it with a C..H.... making that harsh CH sound, but this was simply not acceptable. Something had to be done.
That night I went home and began to devise a plan. Perhaps, I could be Zack #1 and he could be #2.... No too simple... Maybe the spelling difference is enough, No way! Maybe I can add a letter to mine to make it unique?! And thus the letter I was discovered to be my savior. Zack-i..... this was brilliant. I was ZACK-I ...... I began to write it on all my papers, eventually ditching the last name completely, and got notice from several teachers. "You realize you don't spell your name that way Zack...don't you?" "I do now....I changed it. I am now called Zack-i!" The teachers eventually stopped noticing and I kept right on with my new name and title. One day Zack left our school, soon to be relocated in the far Eastern US. The importance of Zack-i faded, but cemented as a well worn nickname. Skip, our neighbor, had made a firm pact with me to never utter Zack in my presence again, simply replacing it with my new full namesake. To this day I still hear "Zack-i" ring out from the mouths of family and friends and I kinda like it.
I was a very strange child.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
"Ello Brian..."
"Spaced" is one of the funniest shows I've seen, and sadly not very many here in the US have been lucky enough to experience it. They started showing it on BBC America this past Spring, but it has had a much longer life than that. This was one brit-com (if you can call it that) that helped cement Simon Pegg's career in Britain and has helped him cross the pond. His wit is sharp, and you can see the same sensibilities in his movie: Shaun of the Dead. Look for the "Spaced" US DVD release later this year. Plus, there are more episodes appearing on youtube.com all the time.
The more you know... #1
According to a local tweaker at the bar on Halloween, "You can't understand Andy Warhol till you've done crack and meth! You gotta get yo' self some rocks boy, then you'll understand man!" You heard him kids...let's start appreciating art and losin' teef!
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Kelly is back again...
For all you fans of "Shoes," here's Kelly's new video:
...If you haven't seen "shoes," you gotta youtube it!
...If you haven't seen "shoes," you gotta youtube it!
Carrie White Eats Shit!
Plug it up kids.... it's Halloween! What better day to kick off my new blog than my favorite day of the year? To give you a bit of perspective, I am obsessed with Halloween every year. I think maybe it has something to do with the prizes for best costume, and all the chocolate. My friends and I have had a rough year this go round so it's been a more than lacklustre and spare response from all. I can't say I'm surprised, but I am a tad disappointed.
I think this is one of those situations where i'm "that guy" who thinks everyone should be just as enthused about the big game as I am, or I'm the lonely woman who's amazed that not everyone is as obsessed with holiday recipes as she is... so I overbake and try to inspire, but really just overfeed and annoy my friends. I can see it in their eyes.... they are over Halloween this year. I had the same conversation with all of them this year: what should I be? In the end, all the great ideas or even drunken suggestions no-one remembers in the morning were all thrown out for the "voyeur" option. A smattering of people I know dressed up this year, the usual suspects. Today I sit in an office full of extremely creative people who didn't even think of wearing a costume! My boss Andrea is the only one other than myself who has the spirit around here. Picture it: a six-three man attacked and impaled by crows, with Frida Khalo sitting behind me. This past weekend saw me as the construction worker from the Village People impaled with re-bar....he had a bad photo shoot... Who knows, perhaps one year I'll lose the spirit for it all and simply sit back and watch. I might even get a visit from the ghosts of Halloween past present and future just like Roseanne.
You're all on notice. There's a year left everyone to get something together and I don't care whether you buy it, rent it, build it, or simply put on some cat ears and call yourself a sexy kitty, (Don't do the latter unless you are a 300lb man and then it's ironic and funny.) but do something or don't go out. The Great Pumpkin has spoken.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)