I was getting rid of a bunch of old printed material containing my art, CD booklets, posters, flyers etc.. I distributed it evenly amongst the interested parties, but half way through I realized that much of the items were actually original drawings and paintings so I scrambled to get them back.
As if I'd miss them, they have been locked away for decades.
I sold my brother my house in SLC over 10 years ago, I only just barely went back to visit. He totally remodeled it, wasn't even recognizeable, probably 5 times the square footage as before.
The main attraction was the multi level pool in the back yard. What a thing of beauty, I have never seen anything like it. The water was super warm, it looked like a man made architectural version of those emerald colored paint pot hot springs in yellowstone that they say are five billion degrees.
The pools were stocked with a huge variety of exotic fish which he trained to do all sorts of tricks and choreography. I had no idea fresh water fish could be so colorful let alone trained to do loopdeloops and fish ballet etc.. Some of them could even spell things and make funny shapes with their bubble streams, kinda like how planes do it with colored smoke at air shows. How he doesn't have a show on the Back Yard Remodeling Channel is beyond me. Top level shit.
His old lady roommates LOVE him.
When I woke up this morning there was a huge ass spider web above the other side of the bed with a huge fucking spider smack dab in the middle. It could have eaten my dogs. I'm glad the girl didn't stay over last night.
Last item: Yesterday a big huge fat girl had my favorite sweater claiming she "found it downtown". A) it's vintage from the forties B) it's one of a kind hand made, C) I have pictures of me wearing it.
Nice try fatty.
Point is:
Animals take note:
We Don't Eat Animals Who Do Tricks.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught making the goldfish roll over.
Your Oldest Roommate,
A Jar of Hellman's Mayo Crica 1987
October 28, 2008
October 27, 2008
The Steve Perry Awards with My Blind Date Sheryl Crow, Pubescent Boy Boobs For Funny Coke Dealers & Stay OUT of My Endo
I attended The First Annual Steve Perry Awards Show last night. Sheryl Crow was my blind date, neither of us were too thrilled. We did our best to pretend to be having fun because that's all she really wants to do.
But we weren't having fun at all.
Luckily my little gay coke dealer comedian friend was there to at least make things funny. And funny things were until he took off his shirt and revealed his boobs which looked like the little cone shaped boobs little fat boys get round bout puberty time. My best friend from when I was 12 had those, big nipples and all. I felt sorry for him and tried not to look.
Oh yeah he also wore the exact same thing as me supposedly to indict me as his boyfriend, as if I'd be embarrassed by that sort of thing.
Nice try.
Later on my mom and some of my friends tried to have a private dinner party upstairs, of course I invited myself along even though there weren't enough chairs or seats at the table.
I hate them.
During the dinner one of the gays was accused of not being gay enough and I said:
"Well he is OBVIOUSLY gay from the waist down".
Of course everyone assumed I was talking about the behavior of his wiener as if I had personal experience when really I was talking about his pink highwater pants with sparkled shoes. No matter what you say regarding the gays, ultimately it will serve as some sort of homo innuendo.
STAY AWAY FROM MY ENDO!
See?
Oh yeah, my sister locked my dog in her closet during the dinner. I found him on my quest for a chair. He looked like he had been in there for 50 years. 10 times as runty as usual.
As someone once sang:
Jesus Has No Teeth in The Land of The Toothless
That's all for now.
Don't get caught quoting Brazilian new wave bands.
Your Favorite Religion For People Who Don't Give a Fuck About Whether or Not There is a God,
Apatheism
But we weren't having fun at all.
Luckily my little gay coke dealer comedian friend was there to at least make things funny. And funny things were until he took off his shirt and revealed his boobs which looked like the little cone shaped boobs little fat boys get round bout puberty time. My best friend from when I was 12 had those, big nipples and all. I felt sorry for him and tried not to look.
Oh yeah he also wore the exact same thing as me supposedly to indict me as his boyfriend, as if I'd be embarrassed by that sort of thing.
Nice try.
Later on my mom and some of my friends tried to have a private dinner party upstairs, of course I invited myself along even though there weren't enough chairs or seats at the table.
I hate them.
During the dinner one of the gays was accused of not being gay enough and I said:
"Well he is OBVIOUSLY gay from the waist down".
Of course everyone assumed I was talking about the behavior of his wiener as if I had personal experience when really I was talking about his pink highwater pants with sparkled shoes. No matter what you say regarding the gays, ultimately it will serve as some sort of homo innuendo.
STAY AWAY FROM MY ENDO!
See?
Oh yeah, my sister locked my dog in her closet during the dinner. I found him on my quest for a chair. He looked like he had been in there for 50 years. 10 times as runty as usual.
As someone once sang:
Jesus Has No Teeth in The Land of The Toothless
That's all for now.
Don't get caught quoting Brazilian new wave bands.
Your Favorite Religion For People Who Don't Give a Fuck About Whether or Not There is a God,
Apatheism
October 23, 2008
Driving The Bouncy Tow Truck Down The Hall, Doin Donuts in The Exploding Guts Float & The Star Spangled Emergency Heckler
I did three things I always wanted to do yesterday.
1) Drove a tow truck
2) Drove down a narrow hallway
3) Drove on to a weigh station with bouncy lowrider hydraulics.
It would have been really fun and momentous and stuff except my passenger was a crying old man trying to read a book to the baby he was holding. What a wuss. I mean Wusses.
Oh yeah I also 4) drove on an ice rink because the Circus on Ice was in town and of course they invited me to be in it.
I was driving the Exploding Guts Float.
Just as fun as Gallagher only with guts and on Ice.
Gallagher is a genius you know.
I stopped by my dad's house because he was wanted me to take a look at his bathroom. It seems he installed wall fountains on every wall, or at least thats how he explained it, the truth is he was just making the best out of an extremely leaky situation. I have to admit, it did look pretty cool in a cavey mossy kinda way.
He also painted all the wood floors. I didn't have the energy to get upset about it.
Later at the bar, my old drummer was doing a benefit for some emergency fund. He was wearing a rather patriotic outfit so I threw a bunch of stars and stripes at him as hard as I could. It didn't hurt him thought, largely because they were Imaginary due to the fact that I was either really tired or drunk, likely a combination of the two.
I might have even dreamt it.
Doesn't matter.
Point is:
Ice Makes Bad Entertainment Slippery
That's all for now.
Don't get caught doin ice donuts in the Exploding Guts Float to lull the baby and grampa to sleep.
Your Favorite New Drink,
Chocolate Milk & Vodka
1) Drove a tow truck
2) Drove down a narrow hallway
3) Drove on to a weigh station with bouncy lowrider hydraulics.
It would have been really fun and momentous and stuff except my passenger was a crying old man trying to read a book to the baby he was holding. What a wuss. I mean Wusses.
Oh yeah I also 4) drove on an ice rink because the Circus on Ice was in town and of course they invited me to be in it.
I was driving the Exploding Guts Float.
Just as fun as Gallagher only with guts and on Ice.
Gallagher is a genius you know.
I stopped by my dad's house because he was wanted me to take a look at his bathroom. It seems he installed wall fountains on every wall, or at least thats how he explained it, the truth is he was just making the best out of an extremely leaky situation. I have to admit, it did look pretty cool in a cavey mossy kinda way.
He also painted all the wood floors. I didn't have the energy to get upset about it.
Later at the bar, my old drummer was doing a benefit for some emergency fund. He was wearing a rather patriotic outfit so I threw a bunch of stars and stripes at him as hard as I could. It didn't hurt him thought, largely because they were Imaginary due to the fact that I was either really tired or drunk, likely a combination of the two.
I might have even dreamt it.
Doesn't matter.
Point is:
Ice Makes Bad Entertainment Slippery
That's all for now.
Don't get caught doin ice donuts in the Exploding Guts Float to lull the baby and grampa to sleep.
Your Favorite New Drink,
Chocolate Milk & Vodka
October 22, 2008
Gilligan's Crappy Green Roller Coaster, Tortillas Holes are Main Ingredient in Aluminum & Flying Bikes for The Blind
The Green movement is pretty cool and all, but does everything have to be so Gilligan's Islandy? Bamboo and coconuts just aren't good building materials for something such as a roller coaster. Especially if the passengers are someone like me and my best friend from growing up who now weighs one billion pounds. There was absolutely no non-Flinstones way to slow it down, bamboo shards flying everywhere, and the car/sled wouldn't stay on the tracks. I am lucky I'm not dead.
We are ALL lucky I'm not dead.
Am i right, am I right? huh? huh? Ok then.
Anyway after that, to rehearse for halloween, we all got in full drag and went to the movies. I didn't shave or change my personality but for some reason I was bing treated like a lady anyway.
It ain't all that great.
At the snack bar the only attendant was cleaning out the tortilla machine. He was making tortilla donuts which are nothing more than tortillas with a hole punched through the middle. He was putting the hole punches into a big container that looked destined for the trash.
"Dude, don't throw those away, I can make some awesome tortilla soup out of those tortilla holes." I said.
"Oh I'm not throwing them out, I'm gonna send them to the plant and have them turned into aluminum."
"Oh OK."
Stupid me, I didn't even know tortilla holes were one of the main ingredients in aluminum.
Google it.
Here's the link lazy ass: Tortilla Holes Main Ingredient in Aluminum
Recycling man, it's effin complex.
Oh yeah, I also had to borrow money from one of the other fake drag queens because I only brought 25 bucks. Important info for yalls.
Anyway, the biggest news is that San Francisco has finally agreed to put my Flying Bikes for the Blind into limited usage across the city. They really don't fly, they are sorta just like upside down bikes that roll along suspended from the electric bus cables. They look like they are flying, that is of course if ski lift carriages look like they are flying. Try to remember the guy who rode the bike on the tight rope in the circus, it's kinda like that.
If you're in SF you'll see them soon enough.
I hope no blindies are killed. I don't wanna get sued.
Point is:
Blind people don't know how dumb they look.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught intentionally crashing your bamboo sled into a hippy to make it stop.
Your Most Iffy Green Invention of The Week,
Solar Panel Bald Caps
We are ALL lucky I'm not dead.
Am i right, am I right? huh? huh? Ok then.
Anyway after that, to rehearse for halloween, we all got in full drag and went to the movies. I didn't shave or change my personality but for some reason I was bing treated like a lady anyway.
It ain't all that great.
At the snack bar the only attendant was cleaning out the tortilla machine. He was making tortilla donuts which are nothing more than tortillas with a hole punched through the middle. He was putting the hole punches into a big container that looked destined for the trash.
"Dude, don't throw those away, I can make some awesome tortilla soup out of those tortilla holes." I said.
"Oh I'm not throwing them out, I'm gonna send them to the plant and have them turned into aluminum."
"Oh OK."
Stupid me, I didn't even know tortilla holes were one of the main ingredients in aluminum.
Google it.
Here's the link lazy ass: Tortilla Holes Main Ingredient in Aluminum
Recycling man, it's effin complex.
Oh yeah, I also had to borrow money from one of the other fake drag queens because I only brought 25 bucks. Important info for yalls.
Anyway, the biggest news is that San Francisco has finally agreed to put my Flying Bikes for the Blind into limited usage across the city. They really don't fly, they are sorta just like upside down bikes that roll along suspended from the electric bus cables. They look like they are flying, that is of course if ski lift carriages look like they are flying. Try to remember the guy who rode the bike on the tight rope in the circus, it's kinda like that.
If you're in SF you'll see them soon enough.
I hope no blindies are killed. I don't wanna get sued.
Point is:
Blind people don't know how dumb they look.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught intentionally crashing your bamboo sled into a hippy to make it stop.
Your Most Iffy Green Invention of The Week,
Solar Panel Bald Caps
October 21, 2008
The Secret Service Can't Even Find My Shoes, No Way Was The Cat Dude Really Half Cat & My DJ Debacle at The Quickie Mart
My step dad works a desk job for the Mormon church. He also works for the President of The United States.
Anyway, I think he is a great dude nonetheless. I'm not sure if I am divulging any national secrets here but they (The government in conjunction with the Mormons) contracted with me to do some entertainment for some interested parties which shall remain top secret. I sent out my boxes of stuff but when I arrived they couldn't find my shoes. They tried to pass of some silver shoes as mine but I think I would notice if I owned silver shoes.
Nice try Secret Service.
One of the other people contracted was a famous "cat dude", half man half cat, or so they want us to think, he is really just some crazy dude who acts like a cat purring and pawing, acting skitish and licking his balls. Not entertaining in the slightest. I had to sit next to him during some down time, time was going by really slowly so I non-stop interviewed him about cat culture. He was def on the spot. A real cat would have bailed under so much scrutiny. Busted.
While I was gone my brother tried to steal all my remote controls, like 20 of them. I don't know why it's not like they would work on his shit. I found them and stole them back. I didn't even confront him.
I fill in DJed a party for my little swiss friend at a gas station last night. For some reason they had like 50 CD players running simultaneously with only one 10 channel mixer and I was supposed to figure it all out on my own. That's the last time I pretend to know what I'm doing. Also the A key on their laptop didn't work so I couldn't type in the password to access the lyrics.
Singing along became a problem.
It wasn't all for naught, I traded photo services for gas station deli fried chicken with the dude who owned the place.
He is a DJ too.
Who isn't.
Anyway, he seemed really ashamed about the quality of the chicken. He was right, it was bad. He probably wont even come collecting on the photo portion. Good thing too. He was extremely boring looking and didn't seem to be the type that would be easily coaxed into his underpants.
BTW, half the reason I get people nearly naked is because I am picky about fashion, most of it sucks, nudity never goes out of style.
Point is:
I'l be the judge of who is smartest.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught National Security Alerting the entire MALL,
Your Vice Preciousident,
The Cat Dude
Anyway, I think he is a great dude nonetheless. I'm not sure if I am divulging any national secrets here but they (The government in conjunction with the Mormons) contracted with me to do some entertainment for some interested parties which shall remain top secret. I sent out my boxes of stuff but when I arrived they couldn't find my shoes. They tried to pass of some silver shoes as mine but I think I would notice if I owned silver shoes.
Nice try Secret Service.
One of the other people contracted was a famous "cat dude", half man half cat, or so they want us to think, he is really just some crazy dude who acts like a cat purring and pawing, acting skitish and licking his balls. Not entertaining in the slightest. I had to sit next to him during some down time, time was going by really slowly so I non-stop interviewed him about cat culture. He was def on the spot. A real cat would have bailed under so much scrutiny. Busted.
While I was gone my brother tried to steal all my remote controls, like 20 of them. I don't know why it's not like they would work on his shit. I found them and stole them back. I didn't even confront him.
I fill in DJed a party for my little swiss friend at a gas station last night. For some reason they had like 50 CD players running simultaneously with only one 10 channel mixer and I was supposed to figure it all out on my own. That's the last time I pretend to know what I'm doing. Also the A key on their laptop didn't work so I couldn't type in the password to access the lyrics.
Singing along became a problem.
It wasn't all for naught, I traded photo services for gas station deli fried chicken with the dude who owned the place.
He is a DJ too.
Who isn't.
Anyway, he seemed really ashamed about the quality of the chicken. He was right, it was bad. He probably wont even come collecting on the photo portion. Good thing too. He was extremely boring looking and didn't seem to be the type that would be easily coaxed into his underpants.
BTW, half the reason I get people nearly naked is because I am picky about fashion, most of it sucks, nudity never goes out of style.
Point is:
I'l be the judge of who is smartest.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught National Security Alerting the entire MALL,
Your Vice Preciousident,
The Cat Dude
October 19, 2008
Never Ending Wheelies on The Hippy Bike, The Not So Great San Francisco Tornado & My Three-Way With a Schizophrenic
I was gonna start this story by telling you how I was never really that great at sports and bike riding and what not but why cloud up the joint with all the negativity when I could just as easily tell you how awesome I was at riding a wheelie.
Yeah, I could ride a wheelie for blocks. Weird that I never got the hang of the unicycle. My clown inclinations only go so far.
Anyway, a bunch of burning man hippies were all showing off their tall weird bikes down the street. I tried to scoot by unnoticed but one of the hippies asked me if I wanted to ride his bike. This was a good chance to see if I still had major wheelie skills.
I did.
I rode wheelies all over the place, and this particular hippy bike had some seriously fast gears so I was like Lighting McWheeliepants all over SF.
BTW I apologize for my laziness, Blank McBlankypants is like totally Tired McTiredpants. Sorry McSorrypants.
So the wheelie ride was fun, but not as fun as watching the tornado circling around SF just licking the shores throwing a few tourists into the air like the gays they are.
Did you see the tornado?
Later on I had a three way with two ex girlfriends and the newer one. Well, it was kind of a three-way, it was really just the newer one but she did dead on impersonations of the others. Is it weird to have enjoyed it? Oh yeah, this all went down in public at Disneyland.
Btw if you haven't flown down the new Disney wind tunnel ride you should.
Point is:
Your Crazy Bike! I Mean WOW, You. Are. In. Ter. Es. Ting.
Now Cherrie:
That's all for now.
Don't get caught denying the existence of the clown gene.
Your Favorite Place in Which to Kick a Hippy,
The Hacky Sack
Yeah, I could ride a wheelie for blocks. Weird that I never got the hang of the unicycle. My clown inclinations only go so far.
Anyway, a bunch of burning man hippies were all showing off their tall weird bikes down the street. I tried to scoot by unnoticed but one of the hippies asked me if I wanted to ride his bike. This was a good chance to see if I still had major wheelie skills.
I did.
I rode wheelies all over the place, and this particular hippy bike had some seriously fast gears so I was like Lighting McWheeliepants all over SF.
BTW I apologize for my laziness, Blank McBlankypants is like totally Tired McTiredpants. Sorry McSorrypants.
So the wheelie ride was fun, but not as fun as watching the tornado circling around SF just licking the shores throwing a few tourists into the air like the gays they are.
Did you see the tornado?
Later on I had a three way with two ex girlfriends and the newer one. Well, it was kind of a three-way, it was really just the newer one but she did dead on impersonations of the others. Is it weird to have enjoyed it? Oh yeah, this all went down in public at Disneyland.
Btw if you haven't flown down the new Disney wind tunnel ride you should.
Point is:
Your Crazy Bike! I Mean WOW, You. Are. In. Ter. Es. Ting.
Now Cherrie:
That's all for now.
Don't get caught denying the existence of the clown gene.
Your Favorite Place in Which to Kick a Hippy,
The Hacky Sack
October 18, 2008
My Secret Stash of Dirty Mattresses, Kids Waxing Nostalgic About Powdered Bottoms & David Bowie is Way Way Older Than Me
I made a whole secret collection of hi-res large format life size photographs of dirty mattresses. You have to come over to see them though because being that the prints are all actual size, showing any low res versions would not do them justice and would defeat the point. The stack is about a foot and a half thick with nearly a thousand prints, that's roughly the thickness of one regular dirty mattress.
Maybe one day you'll see the whole stack at a museum.
I was recently at a party with a bunch of early twenties youngsters (what else is new) and these youngsters were already waxing nostalgic about days gone by, reminiscing about high school and wearing diapers etc.. I normally hang out with youngsters because they generally live in the present and look the future so this was a bummer.
Anyway, somewhat ironically, at the party I caught my reflection in a mirror and I was my dad, I didn't just look like him, I WAS him, gray hair, 72 year old face, everything, only bearded.
But only for a second, musta been a hallucination.
Booze dude.
But I wasn't the oldest one at the party, not even close, another youngster hanger outer wither, David Bowie, was there too. We were having a decent conversation about art, fashion and music and the very subject about which I write here, you know, looking to the future, new ideas etc... I musta been really drunk because I actually proposed that we ditch the party and go to the music room and write some songs.
He was very gracious in his avoidance of the issue.
Who would expect anything less.
He would have enjoyed it though.
He is starting to show his age, in a completely awesome way of course.
Point is:
Reliving the past is like eating the same steak twice... if you catch my drift.
Now Cherrie:
That's all for now.
Don't get caught lecturing David Bowie about the future of the music biz.
Your Favorite Saturday Morning Cartoon That Doesn't Exist,
Something With Cute Maggots Eating Adorable Carcasses
Maybe one day you'll see the whole stack at a museum.
I was recently at a party with a bunch of early twenties youngsters (what else is new) and these youngsters were already waxing nostalgic about days gone by, reminiscing about high school and wearing diapers etc.. I normally hang out with youngsters because they generally live in the present and look the future so this was a bummer.
Anyway, somewhat ironically, at the party I caught my reflection in a mirror and I was my dad, I didn't just look like him, I WAS him, gray hair, 72 year old face, everything, only bearded.
But only for a second, musta been a hallucination.
Booze dude.
But I wasn't the oldest one at the party, not even close, another youngster hanger outer wither, David Bowie, was there too. We were having a decent conversation about art, fashion and music and the very subject about which I write here, you know, looking to the future, new ideas etc... I musta been really drunk because I actually proposed that we ditch the party and go to the music room and write some songs.
He was very gracious in his avoidance of the issue.
Who would expect anything less.
He would have enjoyed it though.
He is starting to show his age, in a completely awesome way of course.
Point is:
Reliving the past is like eating the same steak twice... if you catch my drift.
Now Cherrie:
That's all for now.
Don't get caught lecturing David Bowie about the future of the music biz.
Your Favorite Saturday Morning Cartoon That Doesn't Exist,
Something With Cute Maggots Eating Adorable Carcasses
October 17, 2008
Jesus Would Totally Make Out With Madonna in Provo, Dolly Parton All Fat and Mom-Like in The Gulch & Frat Dudes Are Gay
So something else I didn't tell you about Provo is that's where I was at the ultimate height of my savior complex, so I guess it's no surprise that when I go back there it kinda returns. Case in point, last time I was there I made out with Madonna.
I fucking HATE madonna.
But see that's what savior complex does, it makes you treat people which you'd normally pee on, extree special like, you know because it's a sin to hate. I got in a LOT of trouble because of fucking savior complex. It's really lame dude.
Anyway, Madonna came and visited me in my old apartment (which is now across the street from a HUGE new gas station) I was extree nice to her because I felt guilty for all the mean things I said about her over the years. I tried to compliment her by telling her her stomach was really flat, but in actuality her whole pelvis/stomach area was shaped like a bowl -- sharp and not good for porning. She was so light that she couldn't even smash me which is like one of the best parts of making out.
Madona ain't good at the make out.
Sorry Madonna fans.
Later Dolly Parton did a show out in the gigantic gulch in the back yard. The crowd were mostly lesbians. She came up to give me a hug. She finally looks her age, she has gained probably 60 pounds that they photoshop off her press material. She looked like my mom kinda. Nice lady. I wouldda rather made out with her, too bad I like her.
There were some way frat dudes there gawking at the lesbians all disrespecty so I went over and fake flirted with them to make them nervous so they'd leave, unfortunately they thought I was hilarious and they all wanted to be my friend which was totally the opposite reaction I was wanting.
So I acted like I got a text and had to bail, as if I'm a surgeon or some shit.
I was having hat issues the whole day. I put on a black hat and looked like Slash, then I put on my white cowboy hat but it was dirty and the threads were all fraying like some lame burning man hat so I ended up hatless. Dang it.
Later the girl I have been dating for about a year showed up with Madonna's cell phone charger. Turns out she is Madonna's new stylist.
Awkward guilt time.
Oh yeah, after Dolly's show, the gulch filled up with slimey green water, I went back there to walk around in it and had a very hard time getting out because it was really slippery and I was wearing some brand new shoes I would normally never wear.
Point is:
Provo is for IDIOTS.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught making out with hookers just because that's what Jesus would do. AND DID Probably.
Your Favorite Sunday School Teacher That Ended Up So Not Your Favorite and in Fact Bummed You The Fuck Out,
Prince
I fucking HATE madonna.
But see that's what savior complex does, it makes you treat people which you'd normally pee on, extree special like, you know because it's a sin to hate. I got in a LOT of trouble because of fucking savior complex. It's really lame dude.
Anyway, Madonna came and visited me in my old apartment (which is now across the street from a HUGE new gas station) I was extree nice to her because I felt guilty for all the mean things I said about her over the years. I tried to compliment her by telling her her stomach was really flat, but in actuality her whole pelvis/stomach area was shaped like a bowl -- sharp and not good for porning. She was so light that she couldn't even smash me which is like one of the best parts of making out.
Madona ain't good at the make out.
Sorry Madonna fans.
Later Dolly Parton did a show out in the gigantic gulch in the back yard. The crowd were mostly lesbians. She came up to give me a hug. She finally looks her age, she has gained probably 60 pounds that they photoshop off her press material. She looked like my mom kinda. Nice lady. I wouldda rather made out with her, too bad I like her.
There were some way frat dudes there gawking at the lesbians all disrespecty so I went over and fake flirted with them to make them nervous so they'd leave, unfortunately they thought I was hilarious and they all wanted to be my friend which was totally the opposite reaction I was wanting.
So I acted like I got a text and had to bail, as if I'm a surgeon or some shit.
I was having hat issues the whole day. I put on a black hat and looked like Slash, then I put on my white cowboy hat but it was dirty and the threads were all fraying like some lame burning man hat so I ended up hatless. Dang it.
Later the girl I have been dating for about a year showed up with Madonna's cell phone charger. Turns out she is Madonna's new stylist.
Awkward guilt time.
Oh yeah, after Dolly's show, the gulch filled up with slimey green water, I went back there to walk around in it and had a very hard time getting out because it was really slippery and I was wearing some brand new shoes I would normally never wear.
Point is:
Provo is for IDIOTS.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught making out with hookers just because that's what Jesus would do. AND DID Probably.
Your Favorite Sunday School Teacher That Ended Up So Not Your Favorite and in Fact Bummed You The Fuck Out,
Prince
October 16, 2008
Photo Shoot w/ The Mayor of Uglytown Ukraine, Beating Up Dirty Clowns on a Plane With Willie Nelson & Baking Jew Peas
I photographed the Mayor of Uglytown. It's in the Ukraine. The flight was long and uneventful save that I was seated next to Willie Nelson and we got in a fight with a very dirty clown. Willie and I talked about atheism and twitter. Apparently his twitter persona is lesbian. I could see that.
The clown we beat up returned from the restroom no longer dirty and with a full new make-up job.
"You clean up well." I said.
Then Willie Nelson laughed way way too hard for a joke that really wasn't even a joke. Of course he IS Willie Nelson... not hard to guess why he thought it was sooooo funny.
The photo shoot of the Mayor of Uglytown was in a HUGE arena and he stole a car right in front of everyone. I don't know if it was because he was a Russian gangster or the mayor, either way it wasn't a surprise.
Our interpreter kept wanting to talk about Penn Gillette and all the money he must spend on strippers bein that he lives and works in Vegas. It was a VERY boring one sided conversation.
"Listen, I don't know anything about Penn Gillete other than I get his tweets and they are about his mp3 collection and very boring so I'm not talking about it any more."
"I'm baking jew peas." said the mayor.
"What?"
"I'm baking jew peas!"
"What are Jew peas and why are you baking them?"
"Baking like dog bake, jew like jew..." he said while pointing at me. "Peas like pretty peas and tank jew betty mooch. Tail a butt Penny Gelata."
First, don't bake dogs. Second I'm not Jewish. Third, peas are more cute than pretty, I don't know any fat jewish cling-ons named Betty and I'm not tailing a butt Penny Gelata no mother ho mooch jew bake me peas"
Point is:
Jews are Gentiles to Mormons.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught trying to write an Abbott and Costello routine because I'm pretty sure they are dead.
Your Top Two Favorite Satellite Dishes,
Barack Obama's Ears
The clown we beat up returned from the restroom no longer dirty and with a full new make-up job.
"You clean up well." I said.
Then Willie Nelson laughed way way too hard for a joke that really wasn't even a joke. Of course he IS Willie Nelson... not hard to guess why he thought it was sooooo funny.
The photo shoot of the Mayor of Uglytown was in a HUGE arena and he stole a car right in front of everyone. I don't know if it was because he was a Russian gangster or the mayor, either way it wasn't a surprise.
Our interpreter kept wanting to talk about Penn Gillette and all the money he must spend on strippers bein that he lives and works in Vegas. It was a VERY boring one sided conversation.
"Listen, I don't know anything about Penn Gillete other than I get his tweets and they are about his mp3 collection and very boring so I'm not talking about it any more."
"I'm baking jew peas." said the mayor.
"What?"
"I'm baking jew peas!"
"What are Jew peas and why are you baking them?"
"Baking like dog bake, jew like jew..." he said while pointing at me. "Peas like pretty peas and tank jew betty mooch. Tail a butt Penny Gelata."
First, don't bake dogs. Second I'm not Jewish. Third, peas are more cute than pretty, I don't know any fat jewish cling-ons named Betty and I'm not tailing a butt Penny Gelata no mother ho mooch jew bake me peas"
Point is:
Jews are Gentiles to Mormons.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught trying to write an Abbott and Costello routine because I'm pretty sure they are dead.
Your Top Two Favorite Satellite Dishes,
Barack Obama's Ears
October 15, 2008
My Hundredteenth Return to Lame Provo, Ghosty DJ Conan Ass Dials My Brain & Barefootedly Booing John "Flakey" McCain
Took a trip back to Provo Utah where I spent my college age years. That's right college AGE years. I didn't go to college.
Because I was already smart.
Anyway, I was driving down 13th E. with The Worlds Largest Midget, aka my old friend Kevin, and we passed an old dance club and lo and behold, look who was standing outside loading in speakers.
It was Conan O'Brien.
"Hey CONAN!!" I yelled out the window.
"Hey MERKLEY!!!" He yelled back.
I was kinda surprised that he knew my name but not nearly as surprised as I was when he continued talking to me even though we were still cruising at 30mph down the street and I could hear him as if he was standing right next to us.
"Yeah I'm just here doin my regular DJ gig at The Star Palace, you guys should come, I'll put you on the guest list."
By now he was blocks away in my rear view mirror and it sounded like he was talking right in my ear. I wondered how much longer would I be able to hear him speaking to me, .
"Kevin, can you still hear Conan talking?"
"Nope, he's like a mile back, how could I hear him?"
"Dude, I think Conan is pulling some serious ghosty type bullshit. Turn around, lets follow him, this is EL AME."
He turned around the car and we chased around looking for him but we couldn't find him. I could still hear hiim talking although was apparently no longer talking to me, I think he was just mumbling to himself. . It was like an ass dial only totally stuck in my brain.
About ten minutes later I couldn't hear him anymore, thank goodness. I was worried I'd have to hear him grunting in the bathroom.
I don't know how he did it. Weird shit.
In other pasty people news, Last night I was walking down Castro and John McCain's Limo picked me up. His wife told me they were taking me to his fundraiser in the Castro. I didn't really wanna go because A) I'm not a big fan and B) I wasn't wearing any shoes. Too bad fuckin McCain loaned me his.
Anyway they ended up dropping me off at the rear entrance saying they would come in later through the front. They never even came through. We all had to sit through this long ass infomercial type campaign propaganda. I was the first person to boo when it was over.
Point Being:
Ghosts are IDIOTS.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught making fun of white people.
Your Favorite Plastic Cancer Scab Licking Limo Wart Money Bag Hag Who You Can Just Tell Really Is A Cunt Like Her husband Says,
Mrs. McCain
Because I was already smart.
Anyway, I was driving down 13th E. with The Worlds Largest Midget, aka my old friend Kevin, and we passed an old dance club and lo and behold, look who was standing outside loading in speakers.
It was Conan O'Brien.
"Hey CONAN!!" I yelled out the window.
"Hey MERKLEY!!!" He yelled back.
I was kinda surprised that he knew my name but not nearly as surprised as I was when he continued talking to me even though we were still cruising at 30mph down the street and I could hear him as if he was standing right next to us.
"Yeah I'm just here doin my regular DJ gig at The Star Palace, you guys should come, I'll put you on the guest list."
By now he was blocks away in my rear view mirror and it sounded like he was talking right in my ear. I wondered how much longer would I be able to hear him speaking to me, .
"Kevin, can you still hear Conan talking?"
"Nope, he's like a mile back, how could I hear him?"
"Dude, I think Conan is pulling some serious ghosty type bullshit. Turn around, lets follow him, this is EL AME."
He turned around the car and we chased around looking for him but we couldn't find him. I could still hear hiim talking although was apparently no longer talking to me, I think he was just mumbling to himself. . It was like an ass dial only totally stuck in my brain.
About ten minutes later I couldn't hear him anymore, thank goodness. I was worried I'd have to hear him grunting in the bathroom.
I don't know how he did it. Weird shit.
In other pasty people news, Last night I was walking down Castro and John McCain's Limo picked me up. His wife told me they were taking me to his fundraiser in the Castro. I didn't really wanna go because A) I'm not a big fan and B) I wasn't wearing any shoes. Too bad fuckin McCain loaned me his.
Anyway they ended up dropping me off at the rear entrance saying they would come in later through the front. They never even came through. We all had to sit through this long ass infomercial type campaign propaganda. I was the first person to boo when it was over.
Point Being:
Ghosts are IDIOTS.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught making fun of white people.
Your Favorite Plastic Cancer Scab Licking Limo Wart Money Bag Hag Who You Can Just Tell Really Is A Cunt Like Her husband Says,
Mrs. McCain
October 14, 2008
More Blow Jobs at Church, Wedged in a Cab Smashed in a Truck & Hiding From My Sister in a Box in The Basement
I have been going back to church lately, not because I'm religious or anything, I just like doing porny type stuff at church. Before you go calling it a fetish I should tell you that it's more about disrespecting religious institutions than it is about having a better boner. All in all the boners are no different.
Still fetish free.
Don't be bummed.
On the way home my cab was being too ambitious and got wedged between two other cars. I ended up lifting it out all by myself. The push-ups have apparently been doing some good.
Perhaps not completely coincidentally, later in the evening I wedged myself between two mattresses on a flat bed truck and took myself a nice little nap all smashed style.
That's not a fetish is it? Being smashed? I didn't have a boner.
When I woke up we were rolling down a snowy junk strewn median where I discovered an awesome mexican restaurant.
Then I took my sister to all the local pizza joints that carry my secret blog book I never told you about.
Eventually I got sick of my sister, bless her heart, so I went down in the basement and hid in a box filled with all my old clothes from high school. I found a really old lame baseball shirt in the box that I swear wasn't mine but if it was I have blocked it out.
For good reason.
Point is:
Church is LAME.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught using bible pages as tissues, not because it's sacrilegious, but because they are scratchy and not super absorbent.
Your One and Only Spell Check Word That Still Doesn't Look Right,
Sacrilegious
Still fetish free.
Don't be bummed.
On the way home my cab was being too ambitious and got wedged between two other cars. I ended up lifting it out all by myself. The push-ups have apparently been doing some good.
Perhaps not completely coincidentally, later in the evening I wedged myself between two mattresses on a flat bed truck and took myself a nice little nap all smashed style.
That's not a fetish is it? Being smashed? I didn't have a boner.
When I woke up we were rolling down a snowy junk strewn median where I discovered an awesome mexican restaurant.
Then I took my sister to all the local pizza joints that carry my secret blog book I never told you about.
Eventually I got sick of my sister, bless her heart, so I went down in the basement and hid in a box filled with all my old clothes from high school. I found a really old lame baseball shirt in the box that I swear wasn't mine but if it was I have blocked it out.
For good reason.
Point is:
Church is LAME.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught using bible pages as tissues, not because it's sacrilegious, but because they are scratchy and not super absorbent.
Your One and Only Spell Check Word That Still Doesn't Look Right,
Sacrilegious
October 08, 2008
Quick DECOrating Tip For 1930's Blacks, My Keynote Sermon at Utah Hippie-Camp '08 & Major Major Head Hippie Ear-Flicking
I'm not a huge fan of art deco glass work, nor am I a big fan of dark african bent woods, but when you put the two together... well hey hey hey.
Go decorate you homos.
Anyway, I laid down an Awesermone™ (awesome sermon) about earholes, buttholes and blowholes after some douchehole got all bent at me for jabbing at a Utah based hippie camp.
I'm from SF yo, I'm an authority on hippies.
Five hundred lbs. of DUH please.
Btw I pronounce "lbs" when I read it. You probably do too. Kinda sounds like getting hacked with a machete.
Speaking of which, back to the hippie camp. The reason why I was jabbing it was because for some major lapse in judgment I agreed when they asked me to be the keynote speaker at the camp.
They promised good pay and accommodations.
To hippies that means sleeping on a floor with one singular old bath towel for a blanket. They woke me up for a 6am hippie exercise drill wherein many nigerian money scams were laid out on the table as means to make a living.
Oh how I wanted so badly to punch the head hippie in his hippie head. Instead I just flicked him in the ear really really hard.
A small chunk of ear florped across the room and bounced a curvy series of mini bounces along the floor exactly like you'd think an ear chunk would bounce.
Anyway, the crowd was divided, for some reason, despite my aversion to them, many hippies seem compelled to see me as a guru.
Probs the beard.
Five hundred more lbs. of DUH please....to go.
Did you pronounce lbs this time? Good.
What I mean to say is:
I wish hippies would actually act more Nigeriany and genocide each other with machetes.
That's all for now,
Don't get caught lumping in Nigerians with those joiks from Congo and Darfur because you are too lazy to google to make sure they chop the crap out each other too.
Your Mostly Ineffective Weapon of Choice for Choppy Genocide,
Electric Can Opener
Go decorate you homos.
Anyway, I laid down an Awesermone™ (awesome sermon) about earholes, buttholes and blowholes after some douchehole got all bent at me for jabbing at a Utah based hippie camp.
I'm from SF yo, I'm an authority on hippies.
Five hundred lbs. of DUH please.
Btw I pronounce "lbs" when I read it. You probably do too. Kinda sounds like getting hacked with a machete.
Speaking of which, back to the hippie camp. The reason why I was jabbing it was because for some major lapse in judgment I agreed when they asked me to be the keynote speaker at the camp.
They promised good pay and accommodations.
To hippies that means sleeping on a floor with one singular old bath towel for a blanket. They woke me up for a 6am hippie exercise drill wherein many nigerian money scams were laid out on the table as means to make a living.
Oh how I wanted so badly to punch the head hippie in his hippie head. Instead I just flicked him in the ear really really hard.
A small chunk of ear florped across the room and bounced a curvy series of mini bounces along the floor exactly like you'd think an ear chunk would bounce.
Anyway, the crowd was divided, for some reason, despite my aversion to them, many hippies seem compelled to see me as a guru.
Probs the beard.
Five hundred more lbs. of DUH please....to go.
Did you pronounce lbs this time? Good.
What I mean to say is:
I wish hippies would actually act more Nigeriany and genocide each other with machetes.
That's all for now,
Don't get caught lumping in Nigerians with those joiks from Congo and Darfur because you are too lazy to google to make sure they chop the crap out each other too.
Your Mostly Ineffective Weapon of Choice for Choppy Genocide,
Electric Can Opener
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