LEGO HOUSE OF THE FUTURE

Stalacpipe Organ

Sat, 29 Jul 2006 20:43:55 GMT

in 1951 a mathematician by the name of LeIand W. Sprinkle went into the caves of the west Virginian hills and started on a project that would take him three years to complete. he was constructing the world's largest musical instrument, The Great Stalacpipe Organ. A "organ" that produces musical tones by Tapping huge Stalactites with rubber mallets. Mr. Sprinkle(hehehe) meticuously selected each Stalactite within the 3 and a hlaf acre cavern to perfectly match the musical scale. when the organ is played the mallets will ring out echoing through the natural accoustics of the caves for miles. http://www.luraycaverns.com/images/stalacpipe_pic_right.jpg

"kill your enemy, guilty or not, before they kill you" - Les Erikson

Fri, 19 May 2006 13:57:26 GMT

I think once I get back from Europe at the end of this summer i'm going to follow around my walking contradiction of a co-worker, Les, for a few months and try to make my first serious documentary. Recently he's said a few things that have really unsettled me about the war, the republican right and mormonism and i think this really needs to be set to film. he said he's going to let me visit and film his extremely right wing mormon family in Utah during x-mas. this should be a surreal experience. the more i think about it the more i realize that it's not really even his story that gets me but a burning curiosity in me that's just trying to figure out how a gay man living in the most liberal place on the planet could have such strong, some might even say insane, views on some controversial topics. the weird thing is, i actually really am starting to consider him a friend, even though we completly disagree on everything.

this just in

Fri, 19 May 2006 13:42:52 GMT

Well I just found out that Amy strolled into my room tonight while i was at work and found something she did not expect. witchcraft?? mechanical bull practice? *SHAKES HEAD IN DISMAY* i think i might need to build a "buy my brother a proper bed that isn't a couch" charity box. everyone that comes over needs to drop pocket change and lint in the box

in other news

i met Herzog ! ! he was almost exactly like i had imagined he would be, unpredictable, snide, intelligent, and somewhat selfobsorbed. he took everything in stride, even some old coot trying to hawk his script during the question and answer session. his way of speech was very reminiscent of his films which i loved. he zipped through stories about writing scripts on a choatic soccer team filled bus while being puked on, about dipping thousands of white lab rats in buckets of paint, entire crates packed with hundreds of live rats, just to turn them a more menacing brown/black for nosferatu, and about one of his workers tring to steal the truck filled with the rat filled crates only to have herzog throw himself in front of the path of the moving truck. the truck swearved to avoid herzog only to tip over and shatter many of the cages and release the thousands of rats into the countryside.

last week me and Amy took a spur of the moment driving trip up highway 1 north of the golden gate bridge. this was mostly out of sheer curiosity as i heard highway 1 was a pretty beautiful road to drive, especally north. i guess i really just like how completely impractical this road is to begin with. There are no major cities in the path of this road on the long stretch between San Francisco and Eureka, there actually aren't even really any roads leading from it or places to turn around, so once you get going you are forced to keep going untill the next small town where you can turn around. it was the idea that they would build a highway embedded in cliff sides hundreds or thousands of feet in the air when they probably could have just build safer inland routes that had me reeling. I had planned on taking this road 2 hours north to the light house where The Fog was originally filmed. however, after about 30 minutes of white knuckle driving and sweaty palmed co piloting on Amy's part i decieded this was not at all practical. typically the heights, narrow lanes, and curves wouldn't bother me much but because of recent record rainfall there were many parts of the road with large potholes, cracks where the road was seperating from the cliff or entire lanes missing all together...the road had fallen hundreds of feet below in landslides. i would be driving around a sharp curve and suddenly there would be a few cones and a lane missing and a large truck driving in my lane. we rested at stinson beach and found a mangy dog to entertain us for a while trying to forget about the trip there and the soon trip back the way we came with our tails between our legs.

Sun, 23 Apr 2006 12:20:28 GMT

It's been pretty nice out lately and i've been too bushed to even taken advantage. I've regularly been sleeping past 7 or 8pm after work. i think i might be getting sick. blarg.

Yesterday me and Amy went to garage sales after work and picked up two kites her's has the Fiddle-Faddle mascot bear printed on the bottom to look as if he's hang gliding and mine is this huge multi masted giant in the shape of a spanish galleon(but strangely colored like an american flag.. USA!! USA!!). We plan on attaching razor blades and other pointed objects to these and going kite fighting on twin peaks sometime this week.

Yesterday I bought tickets to go to the screening of Werner Herzog's new film Wild Blue Yonder at the San Francisco International Film Festival. There will be a sit down discussion and meeting with Herzog after the film. he's definantly one of my favorite film makers of all time and i'm super excited to meet him. If only I could be meeting Klaus Kinski as well. Then again, if Klaus were there he'd probably become insanely jealous from all the attention Herzog was recieving and start vomiting insults at everyone, which, of course, would be pretty fun in it's own way. I'm really looking forward to Wenesday night and will probbaly get there an hour early just to get good seats.

"Herzog is a miserable, hateful, malevolent, avaricious, moneyhungry, nasty, sadistic, treacherous, cowerdly creep. his so-called "talent" consists of nothing but tormenting helpless creatures and, if necessary torturing them to death or simply murdering them. He doesn't care about anyone or anything except his wretched career as a so-called film-maker." - Klaus Kinski

Ninja in sweatpants detained on Georgia campus

Sun, 23 Apr 2006 08:08:17 GMT

http://www.redandblack.com/vnews/display.v/ART/2006/04/12/443c71ed40b94

Updated outdated overrated translated (in slav)

Sun, 09 Apr 2006 12:10:48 GMT

back after A slight hiatus. 2.5 year update:

lived in Texas/mexico for one year

constructed time machine out of old ww2 short wave radio oscillators, x-mas tree tinsel, and a tesla coil. forgot that when you time travel you arrive naked. slept naked on a park bench in greench village in 1963. returned to present day.

moved to San Francisco

many other thing in between.

I'm currently living on mission street at the fabulous Fabric House. At the moment there isn't much fabric trading going on however as Discount Fabrics has been replaced by everyones favorite The Dollar Club. Believe it or not the dollar store has managed to get two burglaries in the last three days. Yesterday I came home after work to find a gaping circular hole in the front of the closed store front. Groups of people were strolling by as if it was no big deal, i guess gaping circular holes aren't so strange round these parts. after taking a few photos(so i can document that my hood is scarier then yours). i called the cops and was met by 5 squad cars within 3 minutes. The cops grilled me and put what i said in a report, then afterward me and Amy went across the street and celebrated by devouring sprinkle covered donuts.

A few days ago I picked up something i've wanted for a very long while. A 9'2" early 60's 'Surf Rider' surf board. it's got a balsa wood stringer and multi colored balsa laminated fin. It's a mammoth sea monster! i can't wait until it's flying through the air disemboweling extreme short boarders everytime I wipe out. i wonder how many craniums have been cracked, tendons have been severed, limbs have been broken and teeth have been knocked out through the years because of this here fiberglass torpedo. Me and Paul are starting up a surf club with our pals Charlie and Anton called the Stink Bugs. hopefully we'll end up throwing stink bombs at people we don't like. that'll keep them off our beach, our wave, our babes....

i want a severed hand in a jar for my brithday

Fri, 31 Oct 2003 13:00:27 GMT

SSION was yesterday with unlimited amounts of dancing and pinball. a creepy old man was going up to dancing girls and standing inches behind them making the universal "squeezing" symbol with his hands. it was like a episode of benny hill minus the subsequent chase scene and wacky credit horn music. me and Dave number 2 decieded that for some reason punch is needed in all situations...as are fingerless gloves(ok well the fingerless glove part was my addition).

The best restaurants in any town are the ones that are open 24 hours. It doesn't matter if the restaurant is clean or attractive if the food is good or even edible. What makes 24 hour places special is that whatever is going on inside them at any moment be it eating, planning of the world's demise, a secret lovers rendezvous, people watching, mischivious scheme hatching, or manefesto writing -- will continue to go on there until the place burns down or goes out of business. These places sell time not food. all 24 hour restaurants are social neutral zones, outside the normal boundaries of time and space(like roller rinks), which exist for most of us in neatly packaged eight-hour segments: one for sleep, one for work and one for life. These diners are the alien bases in our midst. Area 51 with curly fries and a Coke.

Penelope by Pinback and Pretty Ballerina by the Left Banke will forever make me think of one person. they're like a death shake 5000(more on this concoction later when pictures are finally acanned) for my stomach minus the copious amounts of sugar and candy(although the foaming at the mouth is present) it's as if you were supposed to be still born inside me but escaped Alchatraz style out my belly button. i honestly think i am a nerdy romantic(however unconventionally romantic that may be) at heart...which honestly embarrasses me to admit but what the hell, this is my journal.

i've been sleeping very strangly latley preparing for the all night halloween extravaganza going on down at the St. Anthony Main....TONIGHT!!!

now, to continue with the slight voice box theme from yesterdays post...here is one more....

think of the president, NOT the real President. The actual elected President is elsewhere, no longer the President, hiding in some remote residence with a Federally-mandated Secret Service team who make no secret of their loathing for him and shit on his breakfast every morning. No, he's long gone. I'm talking about the Acting President. The one who wasn't elected.The one who looks like one of those experimental Chimp-Things we used to stick electrodes in and fire into space.

The worst thing is that I used to know the bastard. Back then, he was simply Junior, living large in Texan sinbins at night while his crazed Daddy ran naked among his cattle herds, his awful howl echoing across the plains as he brought down another cow with his garotte I met him once. He showed me the garotte and told me it was made "from the guts of Sand Gooks." Daddy was obsessed with the Sand Gooks. He saw them everywhere. His handlers shivered nervously as "Daddy" got down on his hands and knees and sniffed my crotch like a dog. "You," he snarled " YOU have known the dusky terrorist pleasure of a Sand Gook woman!!!" He asked me what it was like and stuck his gnarled hand into his pants. His handlers rammed a sedative spike into the top of his head and dragged him off, brownish urine spraying from within his twitching fist.

Junior just laughed. He slapped me on the shoulder and said, "Let's go to the den, Fellow American." The "den" was a bunker under the family mansion. There was a mountain of cocaine on the big teak desk there. Gulls were flapping around its peaks. Junior slipped on a gas mask, shoved its open intake pipe into the pile, and flipped on the compressor. Enough coke to kill a flock of young tyrannosaurs hoovered up into Junior's head. He ripped off the mask and shrieked. Bloody residue dripped out of the pipe and back on to the pile. Eyes bulging, he looked down at the pile. He yelped. "My God! I see Jesus! I see His Face in these Satanic drugs! I am Saved! Glory Be!"

He looked at my face and laughed. "Relax, sport. I'm just practising. I'm going to be President one day." I backed up towards the door, reaching behind me and cranking the gun hidden under my jacket up to the "Rectal Vesuvius" setting. "I thought you were a religious man, like your daddy."

"Ringo says religion is a political tool," he honked, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to claw through to his sinuses.

"Who the fuck is Ringo?"

Junior wrenched open a draw in the desk and ripped from it a scrawny-looking cuddly toy with its eyes plucked out and awful stains on its mouth."THIS is Ringo!" he exulted. "RINGO is my FRIEND!" He clutched the scabby thing to a chest already pebbledashed with cocaine, bloodclots and snot.

My back bumped into the door. "And… he says things, does he?"

"Yeahhhhhh," Junior sighed, stroking Ringo's stomach in a disturbingly sexual way.

"Well, um, excellent. I should be going. I have to accept a shipment of dolphin steaks tonight."

"No," he interjected. "You have to press his stomach."

I took a good grip on the gun's butt. "Why?"

"You have to. You can't leave until you've pressed his stomach."

Well, shit, I thought. How much harm can that do? Junior held the skinny mutilated horror out at arm's length towards me. "Press his fucking stomach!"

I moved forward and pushed two fingers into the thing's gut. A voicebox ground into life, with the hideous rasp of an eighty-year-old chainsmoking hooker.

"Women are best when they can't talk any more."

I flinched back, but he grabbed my wrist with a crazy man's strength. "Morrrrre."

I pressed the stomach again.

"Where's my dinner, bitch?"

And:

"God says queers are special firewood."

I twisted my arm around and he squealed as his wrist bent, but he refused to let go. I put the base of my left hand into his nose and turned it into a bathmat. He reeled backwards, clutching the toy, his fingers twisted into it. It kept rasping: "Americans are born, not made." "Stupid people just like stuff simple." "If they can't see you drinking, you're not an alcoholic."

Junior dragged himself into the seat behind the desk. "You're doomed now, you stupid fuck. I'm gonna be the President one day. Daddy says. He says Presidents are people like us."

Ringo said: "Fuck America and get rich like astronauts."

"Oh God," Junior groaned. "Where's my Womb Thing?"

He scrabbled in the desk for a moment and produced a glass screw-top jar filled with a thick, clotted yellow fluid. Junior unzipped a badly discoloured little penis and began to jerk off into the jar with the maniacal fury of an ugly ape in humping season.

He left him there. I believed it was all over for Junior: that soon he would be found wearing a Big Bird suit while balls-deep in a spaniel on Main Street at noon. But no. Here he is on my television, telling me he's my President now. America's last sick joke at its own expense, before it sinks into the finality of senility and incontinence.

I quit politics a while back. And now, finally, politics have quit me.

Sometimes mom would make us dress up before going to church

Thu, 30 Oct 2003 14:31:46 GMT

I had to kill the pig.

It was a GM Vietnamese potbellied pig that some freak had meatfitted with a voicebox and the frontal lobe of a grown-up crack baby.

It scuttled across the carpet on fat little legs, firing hideous acidic turds out of its fortified arse like it was Satan's vending machine. I loaded the harpoon gun I'd borrowed from Sunil. There are a few parts of the world where you can legally hunt humans who have gone aquatic, and Sunil owed sexual favours to all of them. The pig turned, rasping "Fuckpig! Fuckpig! Fuckpig!" I'd not yet worked out whether he was talking to me or telling me his name, but it seemed to be the only word he knew. I'd been listening to it for two weeks. Two. Weeks.

The harpoon locked down into the receiver chamber, and the air compressor hissed, charging the gun.

I hefted the gun and took aim as the bastard dropped another shit on the carpet, burning another hole in it. "This is it, you disgusting fucking object. Melissa left me with a disease so unusual and horrible it does not have a name, a weird Japanese doll that sucks out its own urine, and you. I've had my urethra irradiated, I listened to the doll scream as I shoved it into a wood chipper, and now there's only you left. The pet pig."

"Fuckpig!"

The compressor stopped hissing. The gun's chip crooned to me, for no good reason, in the synthesised voice of Peter O'Toole: "You may kill things now, young man." I threw the receiver lock to open the barrel and fired at the pig's smoking anus.

Of course I bloody missed.

The pig hurled itself to one side like it was an action movie hero, rolling and coming up poised and ready on its foul black trotters. The harpoon thudded into one of my speakers. I fumbled another one into the chamber and slammed down the receiver lock, hoping there was enough push left in the compressor for another shot at the little crapmachine. I waved the harpoon gun at it. You couldn't see its eyes; they were dark wet slits surrounded by great folds and swells of warty pigflab. But you knew it was scheming. I edged between it and the clear run through my long thin apartment to the front door. I had it pinned here in the back bedroom. Nowhere to run.

It feinted to my left like Ali, with a rasped "Fuckpig!" I pretended to follow the feint, and then snapped the gun back as it launched itself for the opening it expected between my right and the doorjamb.

It realised I had it and pissed itself in mid-air, an evil green sprinkler. Twisted its immense gut around to carom off the wall. I kept a bead on it as it bounced off my bed - realised too late that it was aimed for the window.

Fuckpig! and it hurled itself through the window. I ran to the sill, trying to keep my hands away from all the broken glass. The pig had launched itself with some force, I gave it that. There was a chance it could reach the shopfront awning on the other side of my narrow market street. The odds were better that it'd miss and splatter. But I don't like gambling, really, and this was a personal thing.

I put a harpoon through the bastard pig from arsehole to breakfast-time, skewering it in mid-air.

It dropped down into the market, landing on a fruit stand. Its guts let go and the awful flow dissolved all the apples. There was a storm of swearing in Croatian, and then the retching started.

And, you know, this is as good as the next month or so got.

Harpo Marx being a dictator make me happy, Harpo Marxism will never die.

Sat, 14 Jun 2003 06:02:36 GMT

To celebrate today's friday the 13th holiday I put on a hockey mask and dirty jump suit and stood in front of my room's window looking menicing with an axe. it was a good day.

why to boycott Walmart:

It's the Walmart greeters i tell you, they have it in for me. ever since highschool i've been noticing more and more how they never give me a "hey hows it going" or "HI" and a smiley face sticker. in highschool it was no real concern to me, i didn't really care that a elderly person wearing a button blue vest and smelling of Metamucil ever gave me the half hearted time of day...but recently it's been worrying me more and more. you see, the greeters always seem to have nice cheerful smiles and pleasant hellos that disappear when I approach and start again after I pass. now i wouldn't exactly call me stylish in a khaki and loafer sense but i deffiantly don't consider myself riff raff. i'm always semi clean cut and hygenic. yesterday I went in to develop a roll of some black and white cemetary weirdness and i put my theory to the test...before i went in i tucked in my shirt and combed my hair to the side, even popped in a stick of gum...finally i was ready to enter, I had a nice friendly smile on my face. The greeter was a pleasant old lady of approximately 70 years of age. Her name tag read "Martha". Martha welcomed the person walking in front of me and said she hoped they found everything they were looking for. Well that's nice I thought to myself. When it came to be my turn I walked up close but not too close to be considered intimidating. I said with a nice strong voice. "Hello". Nothing. I didn't get a smile, grimace, a word said...it was like i didn't even exist. Upon leaving Walden's Abyss I noticed two elderly gentlemen in their blue wal-mart vests casually talking and saying goodbye, have a nice day,etc. to people that were leaving with their discount socks. I'll have better luck with them. As I approached I was trying to think of what you would call them. They weren't greeters because they were saying goodbye. Anyway I had the same result with them. When I smiled and told them "Have a nice day", one said nothing and they other one snickered(!!). "How about my day you reject from Hee Haw?!" i thought to myself, even though I had no idea if he really tried to be on Hee Haw or not. "How come the hillbilly with the John Deere cap can have a good day and I can't?! I've paid my dues!" the weird thing is that my own grandmother is a walmart greeter, and has also, through most of my life, treated me in this manner. maybe walmart just has the market cornered on elderly folks that automatically take a disliking to me for no real reason. ok, i'd miss the 24 hour multi rat tailed white trash-o-thon to permanently boycott walmart, but that doesn't mean i'm not goign to give all walmart greeters sneers and obscene hand jestures!

Korea has talking toilets! i wonder if they have a swooshy type night rider light. i'd want my talking toilet to have the voice of HAL on 2001: a Space Odyssey.

Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?

i've been a busy little Dave latley, going to the walker showings of Visitor Q and Ichi the Killer....lots of excess gratuitous violence just the way i like it. although visitor q just seemed alot of times to be going far beyound for that extra shock value. incest, rape, murder, necrophila AND tit milking?

i went to the Walker last saturday, the chunk of hippopotumus skin by Paul Thek was amazing.
"mommy remember when i fell down these steps"

the Science Museum has a jar full of hamsters....no explanation...just about 50 hamsters floating in preservatives. i wonder if there is a man paid to collect dead hamsters...i want his job. i rode the "generator" bike and rang the bell, unfortunantly Welcome to the jungle wasn't playing on the radio. SHA NANANANANA NEEEEEE NEEEEEE. i had to much fun on the musical stairs, and wanted to get a jug band going while playing the one string cello like a stand up bass.

tomorrow it's spike and mike's twisted animation festival and Tent buying time. i'm going to camp in my backyard(to test it out for later this summer) and fall asleep under the smoggy milky way while distant gang gun fire echo's in my ears like a soft lullaby.

it's when they start to fly, that you have to worry.

i spend my days dreaming about "fun size" snickers...

Fri, 06 Jun 2003 13:09:51 GMT

i want to kidnap vincent gallo and have his talents sucked into me threw some weird batman like talent transferring device. the man can sing, write, film, dance, act and only looks like a scruffy escaped convict 3/4ths of the time.

i finally went to minnehaha falls last night and had a moment of bliss. who'd of thought something so violent and yet full of beauty would be in the middle of a busy city. i've decided a barrel might not be feasible for going over the falls. instead, a old empty toxic waste drum should do the trick(and if i make it over the falls i could be toxic avenger Dave). Me, Kristina and Angie sat around telling scary stories in the middle of the park at about midnight (mines was about a troll in the closet)...in the middle of kristina's story a midget walked by. very strange. later in the night we heard noises and we blamed it on the big foot people and ninja monkeys in the tree's. Jacqui gave me a friendship bracelet and i guess if i lose my hands in a farming accident and the bracelet comes off we will no long be friends...so keep me away from the corn husker.

i wonder if spoon bending will ever be another wild craze again? lets hope!

everyone need to come with me tonight to the walker to see TOKYO UNDERGROUND: TAKASHI MIIKE'S Vistor Q......"Miike can go very deep into your mind and touch your most twisted feelings and thoughts." although i wasn't a huge fan of Audition i must say i'm curious as to what else he has up his sleeve. i can't wait to see Itchi the Killer on Wednesday YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE <----excitement

----------
you enjoy having fake brains in your fridge, oneday you'll come home and i'll be eating them and you'll go awwwww "i was saving that for our guests"...but won't get mad because you know i'll let you use some of my brains to replace them with(i don't have many so use em wisely)

you actually think having a dinner together with a skull(or removed appendage) hanging around your neck would be a great idea, even if it called for sore necks

you always go along with all of my ramblings and always find a way to make them better(i really had no idea that was even possible untill i met you). best of all you have this uncanny ability to come up with ideas of your own that are far better(with headless double butt people around my worm people don't stand a chance)

you have ways of counteracting my rice bribe foiling techniques

parasitic siamese twins make you giddy, you think zombies would liven up this boring world of ours(your walking down the street, minding your pee's and q's when ...BRAAAAAAAIIIIIINS)

nessy lives!

you have a way to make my stomach churn and my knees go weak

your strange in all the right ways
your everything weird i could ever be lucky enough to find.
your exactly what i never knew i was looking for and everything i wanted but didn't know existed(oh wow that sounds like a micheal bolton line...)

Excuse my spunk!

See the nerve shattering Dance of Death!

Thu, 05 Jun 2003 05:41:24 GMT

gift certificates have to be the most god awful present you can get somebody...it's like the lazy man's way out, gee i don't know exactly what they'll like....they like music!: 20 dollar Cheapo gift certificate it is!...why not just give them money and let them save or spend the money how they please. this is one gift i never quiet fully understood.

yesterday i headed out to uptown to look for a job and unknown to me, Kate was working at Treehouse Records. they were just closing up and she asked if i perhaps wanted to go and get tacos at the turf club. As you may or may not know, I am definately not one to pass up tacos...I mean come on, grease and cheesy goodness mmm. she needed to pick up some books from cheapo before our taco excursions so I came along for the ride. While i was there, I picked up The Clean's Anthology 2 cd set. Wooowee, this thing blows my socks off. Anyhoo, we headed over to the turf club and it was my virgin turf club experience and i found they have a black and white photo booth!! many fun moments will be caught in there i can tell you(i still want to take warhol like photobooth sun glass pics at least once while i'm young and still like sunglasses(before i trade them in for bifocals and clip ons or those faded "smokey" aviator glasses everyone on my dad's side of the family loves so much). pinball fun was had, i think of all the meagerly few bars in the cities that i've been to the turf club fits me best. the running gag of the evening, men straight = menstrate....that was a good gag(inside killer clowns from outter space joke)

Today i headed out with my pal Jen to Dreamhaven where i stocked up on the 3 for a dollar comics. i ended up getting the Tick, ren and stimpy, beavis and butthead and a tick spin off called Chainsaw Vigilante (!!!!!!). it's actually kinda funny because i originally wanted to go to dreamhaven to pick up a few serious illustrated novels, Sandman style stuff. then i find the 50 cent bins and it's ALL OVER. i ended up with only wacky weirdness, 27 comics for 8 bucks! I also picked up Lenore #1 and Fillerbunny "i fill up 15 pages" eeeeeee Johnen Vasquez and Dirge(yes DIRGE, now he's a 80's action hero that just goes by one name like rambo) are my heros.

At the store i ended up talking to one of the employees about cannibalism and he started to tell me about how in one of the star wars books Chewbacca dies and is eaten on some far away plane...then i replied with the all time dorkiest joke of the day "I can just imagine them all sitting around a camp fire saying "how's your wooky, ahhh it's a little chewy"" *crowd rips into hilarious laughter, snorting and throwing popcorn into the air* then out of nowhere this skinny pale man with terrible acne yells in the most serious way possibly "that's not funny! i also read that book, chewbacca died a hero!!" .....sigh....dorks are funny. also, i hate manga with a passion.

now, everyone go out and buy(or steal) the latest issue of Mojo, it comes with a fantastic 20 song cd compilation of 60's garage punk and is actually really good.

on the bus i saw the Old creepy black man with the cane again...the well dressed one i talked about with the orage beard early in my journal. he looks like a character out of Poltergeist and he snorted at me today....it was the high point of my day. If I see him again I promised myself i'd go up and talk to him. I know it would have to be at least a little interesting or at the least, strange. I liked when he boarded the bus he tried to use a 2 day old bus pass and got on free because he acted confused when the bus driver told him it was a old transfer...err at least i think he was acting. i'll deffinantly need to investigate him further.

Next post will include a rant about why i constantly want and need change, i just don't feel like ranting tonight. but untill then.....

WHAT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR....HITLERS HEAD PRESERVED IN A GLASS CASE!!

it just seemed like the thing to do at the time

real life irony makes dave happy.

Wed, 04 Jun 2003 10:34:21 GMT

The average cost of rehabilitating a seal after the Exxon Valdezoil
spill in Alaska was $80,000 (£40,000). At a special ceremony, two of the most expensively saved animals were released back into the wild amid cheers and applause from onlookers. A minute later, in full view, a killer whale which was also just released, ate them both.

A psychology student in New York rented out her spare room to a
carpenter in order to nag him constantly and study his reactions. After weeks of needling,he snapped and beat her with a axe leaving her mentally retarded.

Two animal rights protesters were protesting at the cruelty of sending pigs to a slaughterhouse in Bonn Germany. Suddenly the pigs, all two thousand of them, escaped through a broken fence and stampeded, trampling the two helpless protesters to death.

Sometimes the only way I know you're still alive is when I hear ya flush the toilet.

Tue, 03 Jun 2003 11:44:33 GMT

didn't finish my journal post last night so here it is, written in the newest fad language to hit the streets... cockney! for all you uneducated types...the english translation is below it.

Lawd above! i ended up Michael Owen ter Scapa Flow see a Cabaret wiv Befon sunday, Adam an' Eve i' awer not i' was da first one i 'ad ever been to. It's dis little free fawm cabaret called "Balls", stop snickering. One ov da "acts" was dis really talen'ed accordion player, i never really knew but da accordion is actually a beautiful instrumen' when played in a none polka manner. Some day i 'ope i can make sommink what gives people Scapa Flowosebumps da way 'e did when 'e played 'is first song. afterward we wen' aaaht ter Little T's fer mawer ov da Mae West mexican In da Nude in town. yesterday i ended up finally ge'in' a new lip ring...as much fun as i' was ter aggravate befwiv my asemun'ry...i just 'ated wakin' up an' 'avin' i' stab in'er my lip. I also ended up buyin' nif'y generic black Chuck Taylor rip offs fer Cockle Cock an' 'en bucks an' da 'Stone bobble 'at an' noses' Smelly Elf titled an' 'Gang ov Brown Loaf / Ruof' - Mae West ov CDs. yesterday Day's Dawning Jaquci an' i did sommink "spontaneous" an' wen' aaaht ter breakfast at 6am...deja vu. My drugless 'allucinashuns experimen' was a 'orrible failure an' i passed aaaht only after 30 sleepless 'aaahrs an' i didn't even see one killer froarfin' chicken what wasn't there awer start ge'in' paranoid abaaaht someone bein' in my closet wiv a 'atchet. BLASTED. It's ok though, because i dreamed ov a gian' evil bunny distroyin' a ci'y Scapa Flowdzilla style. (!!!!) i think i was smilin' frew aaaht da dream...if i' is possible ter smile while sleeping. I always 'ave da Mae West dreams when i'm exausted. . , innit.

Translation

i ended up going to go see a Cabaret with Beth on sunday, believe it or not it was the first one i had ever been to. it's this little free form cabaret called "Balls", stop snickering! one of the "acts" was this really talented accordion player, i never really knew but the accordion is actually a beautiful instrument when played in a none polka manner. some day i hope i can make something that gives people goosebumps the way he did when he played his first song. afterward we went out to Little T's for more of the best mexican food in town.

yesterday i ended up finally getting a new lip ring...as much fun as it was to aggravate beth with my asementry...i just hated waking up and having it stab into my lip. i also ended up buying nifty generic black Chuck Taylor rip offs for 10 bucks and the 'Stone Roses' self titled and 'Gang of Four' - best of CDs.

yesterday morning Jaquci and i did something "spontaneous" and went out to breakfast at 6am...deja vu! my drugless hallucinations experiment was a horrible failure and i passed out only after 30 sleepless hours and i didn't even see one killer froathing chicken that wasn't there or start getting paranoid about a horribly disfigured man being in my closet with a hatchet
(sometimes i wish i had a disfigured man in my closet). BLASTED! it's ok though, because i dreamed of a giant evil bunny distroying a city Godzilla style. (!!!!) i think i was smiling threw out the dream...if it is possible to smile while sleeping. i always have the best dreams when i'm exausted.

I MUST SEE EVIL DEAD TRAP 1 and 2!!!! ...original name by the way japanese film makers. HORROR PORN ALERT http://www.weirdvideos.com/horror.html i also think i need to see what ever the hell Zombie Ninja is.

MY GIRL'S GOT GUTS!

i can suck the life out of a shark!

Mon, 02 Jun 2003 10:46:16 GMT

i've been a very busy boy as of late. i went to revolver at the uptown and EVEN with the equipment malfunction they blew me away AGAIN. at the show i was recruited by Bootleg Minneapolis, a Television show on Channel 2(PBS!) that showcases local and independent touring bands. they were at the show filming Revolver and heard i was a photographer/film student threw Karrie and Micheal(revolver guitarist). so now i get to go in and learn their equipment this week and start as a camera man as soon as it is posible...YIPPIE!!

i went over to Kristina's and we watched the never released season three of Siffle and Ollie, i somehow had forgotten the genius that was siffle and ollie. then we made the naked mr.t doll i gave her ride her very sausage looking dog like a cowboy, i decided i was goign to film it and make a movie with the footage some time later. (for the western part of my soon to be zombie/biker/giant mutant dog/naked mr.t/ western/outter space epic film)

the Brainerd Paul Bunyan statue is for sale!!!! you know, the creepy talking one that was in Fargo *spontanious combustion because of pure joy* the best part is, that it's for sale to anyone that can afford to move it. i want to buy it and move it too a trailor park, hollow it out and live in it with 10 hillbilly kids in overalls. and if that's not possible i want to position the statue just right so the only way to go into my house is threw paul bunyan's crotch.

sure fire ways for good friends to piss off dave:

1. Call dave up at 1am drunk

2. Call up dave after dave hangs up on drunk friend and then tells dave she is also driving while intoxicated.

anyone that knows me knows how passionantly against drinking i am...for myself, i never try to push my ideas on anybody else. i've had a friend that was killed by a drunk driver and my mom was, and possibly still is an alcholic. so it's somewhat easy to see why i'm so against drinking. i'm sick of having to constantly justify why i don't do it. as if it's the "normal" thing to do. i think a vein popped out of my head when my friend told me she was driving drunk though. i haven't felt anger like that in years. this being a close friend made it much worse. i almost punched the annoying cat...sooo close. now i'm put in the possition of having to deicide what to do with this friendship...i want to run away with stacy and non retarded friends to my paul bunyan house :(

muppets on herion

Thu, 29 May 2003 11:05:01 GMT

sometimes i wonder if i'll ever find that perfect person who is happy with who they are. content with the person that they've become and are not constantly criticizing themselves. they're not trying to be somebody else. everybody has their faults, some of us just seem able to handle them better then others.

i watched a documentary on the korean war, and now i want to seriously visit Soule south korea before i die. i hear they are hungry for spam over there so i'll stock up on it here, seeing as how minnesota is the spam capital of the world and then sell it to everyone over there for inflated prices. i'll live like a KING(with ape butlers) and buy cheap land on the 38th parallel. i kinda like the idea of the 38th parallel, it's like it's own little country. me and Stacy can live inside it with our cottage house and army of mutants we raised straight from the test tube.

i've finally decided that i really honestly want to put 100% into making documentaries for the rest of my life. the strange thing is that it was a Baseball documentary that helped make up my mind. i was watching Ken Burns "Baseball" late one night and i was fascinated even though i really don't care much about Baseball. as much as i like the strange and unusual that can be shown to people through fiction...i think i'd rather educate people on the strange and unusual of real life. to sound like a arty farty art student, everyone has a interesting story to tell.

on my trip on bus 14 yielded a video store with a "strange and unusual" section which basically ment "porn and cult", my two favorites! also one of the ladys that works there looked right out of 1992...bright bleeched bimbo permed hair with bangs a mile high. i think i love this place already....tobad it's in some god-awful suburb.

two days ago, after staying up all night i went to mcdonalds with beth at 8am because i had a egg mcmuffin craving. i'm glad i have a buddy that is willing to just hang out with barley any notice, seemingly at any time for any lame reason. fun was had and i got a new "mcgriddle" it tasted like goat testicles put on two pancakes...mmmmmm. i'm going to steal Beth's Razor Blade Macho Man randy savage sun glasses that are in her car.

Last night Jacqui Hamburger(which will be her name forever and ever) gave me a haircut free of charge...yippee for me being a cheap skate! i had my first slushy in a long while...this time with no quickie mart bugs in it.

things i'm truly frightened of because of traumatizing childhood events:
1. bugs under crawling under my skin or into my ears( as my uncle put it when i was just 9 "at night, when you sleep, a roach can crawl into your skull and lay it's eggs onto your brain...when the eggs hatch your head explodes" i can't wait to tell that to my kids BWHAHAHAHA it's basically the only reason i want to have kids(that and to make them my own person work slaves). it'll be our families heir loom, pasted on from generation to generation. i remember sleeping with my sheets over my head for a year because of this one)

2. chainsaws (haunted train ride when i was i 10, i thought it would be a ordinary run of the mill boring haunted traing ride...you know people jumping out of piles of leaves as the train passes haha HO HO...well what happened is the train stops in this dark tunnel, a strobe light lights up revealing a maniaccovered with fake gore, weldign a chainsaw. mr.maniac sticks the chainsaw in my face and hits me with it. i thought my face was missing and was screaming at the top of my lungs...being a kid is fun. not to mention texas chainsaw massacre.)

3. a Tornado (i was this weather nerd growing up, i wanted to be a meteorologist, so i started reading more and more about tornadoes. then i can remember i started to find pictures of people that were killed by tornadoes. one extremly gorey picture that stand out in my mind is this picture of a older man with a huge metal poles sticking out of his head. don't get me wrong, i love some metal pole...flag poles, shower rods, tetherball poles...all of these make live a little easier to live. something about them sticking out of my head didn't settle right though. )

4. an insane dentist (all i need to say is little Shop of Horrors)

Today i hung out with becky and we went to the como park zoo together, it was ZOOOOOPER(refering to the ZOOPER food stand, a 4 dollar hamburger! how zooper!)...teeehehehehhe ugh. lots of sad and depressed looking animals. one penguin looked to be rotting alive, i'm not a penguin expert but i can't imagine that being natural. we watched the monkeys play for an hour, named them Minnie, Moe and jack, then went to see the wildest animals of them all, THE CARNIES! we ended up talking to a mustached white trash carny about his day (boy had a mullet the size of africa) and he gave us 30 free ride tickets! we rode the tilt-o-whirl untill we almost lost our zooper lunch.
later in the night i headed out to see the one and only, 'The Cramps'!! Mr.Quintron opened , he was shirtless by song number two...very hyper and sweaty and good. him and the cramps put all that they had into theire shows. Poison ivy still is a looker after all of these years, the light jsut has to hit her right. maybe all the rock and roll herion is finally catchign up with her...oh well she was still my first rock and roll love. by the end of the night i had seen:
- a girl covered in her own vomit
- lux interior ending the show with panties on his head from the crowd
- a very large man that never moved during the entire cramps set, except to flip them off with both hands to show his support after a song....every song.
- a drunk homeless man wearing no pants.

there is this girl that i know that i can't get out of my head, not even by burning or poking will she come out. i didn't think anythign would come of me and her but latley i think about her alot. we'll just have to see how things work out.

i will be buying alot of the Stone Roses, Gang of Four and Pavement CDs with the tax return check that's currently burnign a gapping hole in my pocket. $488 mad bling blings

"40 Deuce: unreleased materpiece starring Kevin Bacon!!!! Kevin is a drug addict trying to sell a boy to a pimp! But when the boy dies he tries to sell the body!!! Little wonder this little gem, directed by the Director of most of Warhols films, Paul Morrissey, was never released."

going, going, going... SOLD

this experience made me want to put down my gun.

Sun, 25 May 2003 10:14:56 GMT

i lost everything i had just typed about the last few days so this will have to do instead! GALL DARN LIVEJOURNAL COCK EATTEN SUMS A BITCHS!

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A THANKFUL SUMBITCH!
EVEN WHEN THA WORLD IS AGAINST ME, AN THE GOVMENT IS TRYING TO ROB ME, AN THEM ALIEN FELLERS KEEP A ZAP-ZAP-ZAPPIN THEYS BRIGHT PINK MIND READIN RAY RIGHT AT MY NOGGIN EVEN THROUGH MY PRO-TECTIVE TIN FERL HAT!
DRIVES ME INTA FITS AN RUNNIN SHITS O'RAGE!
"YEW DIRTY ANAL PROBIN, SMOOTH FACED FAGGITS! IF YEW IS GONNA SHOOT ME WITH SOMETHIN A LOT LESS FRUITY AND FEY! WHAT'S WRONG WITH SOME MANLY BLUE???!!!"

SO I WAS HOLLERIN THAT OUT MY WINDOW THE OTHER NIGHT, WHEN I SEE A FINE FELLER LURKIN ABOUT OUTSIDE. I TOOK A INTEREST IN HIM AT FIRST ON ACCOUNT OF HIM HUFFIN AWAY ON SOME GAS MASK KINDA THING, HUFFIN AN A-PUFFIN, HOLLERIN "HOLY HELL TO THE EVER-HUMPIN GODS OF FUCK!"
I HOLLERED DOWN AT THA FELLER WHAT HE'D BEEN DRINKIN.
"YEW AINT SLOSHED ON THAT HEINIE-KIN, IS YA?"
I EYED EM FOR A GREEN BOTTLE DRINKIN FAIRY TYPE.
"FUCK NO!!! PABST...BLUE...RIBBON!!!"
THATS ALL I NEEDED TA HEARS.
TURNS OUT THA FELLER'S NAME IS FRANK BOOTH.
"FRANK FUCKIN BOOTH, MUTHERFUCKERS!" HE SAYS.
MUST BE POLISH.
IT BEIN FRIDAY, FRANK HAD HIM SOME PEEPLES OVER FER FEASTIN AND INVITED ME ON OVER. I TOOK A SEAT ON THA SITTIN COUCH, AS THA COMPANY ARRIVES.

FIRST IS SOME GOOFY TALKIN FELLER WITH HAIR AS HIGH AS YER ELBOW TO THA CEILIN. EVER-THANG COMIN OUTTA HIS MOUTH WAS 'GOSH' THIS AN 'GOLLY' THAT.
NAME O' LYNCH OR SUMPIN.

NEXT IN WAS SOME FOXY LOOKIN YOUNG LADY BY THA NAME OF I-IS-A-BELLA ROSE-A-LEE-NI OR SOME SUCH. I SAW SHE WAS LOOKIN AS FINE AS A STACK O DIMES AN WUZ ABOUT TO MAKE MY MOVE, BEFORE I CAN, OLE BOOTH DECIDES TO START COCK BLOCKIN.
WHEN FRANK SEES HER, HE STARTS A HUFFIN-AN A PUFFIN ON HIS FACE MASK THINGEE, YANKS OUT A STRIP OF BLUE VELVET, AN GOES BUGHOUSE LOONY.
"MOMMY...MOMMY!!! BABY WANTS TO FUUUUUCK!!!
AN LEAPS AT HER WITH HIS DIRTY RAG!
FILTHY!

WHILE I WAS A STEWIN IN MY MORAL OUTRAGE, ABOUT TO REPRIMAND THAT BOOTH FOR HIS LACK O PLAY AN SMOOTH-TALKERY, THAT LYNCH FELLER COMES OUTA THA KITCHEN WIT THA PURTIEST THANG I EVER DONE LAID EYES UPON. RADIANT LIGHT OF PURE BEEUTY CAME A-SLICIN THROUGH MY CATARACTS LIKE A TINY CHICKADEE BURSTIN THROUGH ITS SHELL ON EASTER MORNIN. NOT SINCE SWEET-TOOTH A TAP DANCIN ON CANDIED YAMS HAD I SEEN A SIGHT SO WORTH A SEEIN!
LAYIN THERE, ALL GLISTENIN AN GLEAMIN ALL LATHERED IN LOVE AN BUTTER, WAS THE SEXIEST TURKEY I EVER DONE SEEN! SPLAYED OUT LIKE ONE OF THEM PINUP HOOTCHIES FROM THE SPANK AN SPLATTER RAGS!

THEN ALL OFFA SUDDEN, THAT ROSE-A-LEEN-EE WOMAN DONE JUMPED THROUGH THEE WINDOW, MAKIN AN AWFUL NOISE.
I WAS NOT TO BE DISTRACTED, BUT WHEN I TURNED AROUND, THAT FRANK FUCKIN BOOTH WAS AT IT AGAIN, SHOVELIN THAT BLASTED BLUE VELVET UP THA SACREDEST HOLY OF TURKEY HOLIES.
"MOMMY!!! MOMMY!!! DON'T LOOK AT ME!!! DON'T FUCKIN LOOK AT ME!!! MMMMMMMM-RRRRRR!!!! DADDY'S COMIN HOME!!!"
THA TURKEY, BEIN A GENTLE TYPE OF SOUL UNACCUSTOMED TO SUCH ROUGH TREATMENT AN TOTAL LACK OF ARTFUL FOREPLAY, SAT UP, AN A RAN RIGHT OUTA THAT SAME WINDER THAT OTHER DAME RAN OUTA, WITH THA BLUE VELVET DANGLIN FROM ITS TENDER, JUICY, AN SUCCULENT HOLE, LIKE SOME SATIN SOAKED FLAG OF SURRENDER.
FRANK STARTS A-TWITCHEN AN HOLLERIN AN RUNS RIGHT AFTER IT, A TRIFECTA OF THINGS A-LEAPIN OUTA THAT WINDER, LEAVIN ME FEELIN DRAINED, LIKE MOTHER PUP DROPPIN HER LOAD OF STILLBORN FLESHBAGS.
I SITS BACK ON THA COUCH, AN FLIPS A TOP O SOME PABST BLUE RIBBON, AN TAKES A SWIG, NEXTA THA LYNCH FELLER.
"It's a strange world, isn't it." HE SAYS.
I WAS HARD PRESSED TA DISAGREE.

I would like to shake your hand. I do not have any arms, though. I'm sad now.

Fri, 23 May 2003 08:14:46 GMT

tomorrow is Adventure day, i'm taking Bus 14 out to some unknown area, hopefully the the end of it's route and explore on foot. i want to document it all..hopefully run across some strange people and talk to them and not end up dead in a drainage ditch off 35-W. later in the day i take my first trek to minnehaha falls...i plan on going over the falls in a barrel and possibly finding some large strange bunny statue i heard about on kellys page....beer belly becky's coming along for the ride.

last night i headed out to jitters after deciding to hit up wrestling next month...hopefully with a group of loud mexican wrestling mask wearing pals along. i ended up running out the door with only bus fare because i would of missed my bus...got to jitters, did a quick search for anyone i might of known. then jumped on a bus back home before my transfer expired... did stay in nye's long enough to see 5 minutes of a bad reggae band and watch a nicely dressed elderly couple do sintra on the karaoke. a pretty rotten night...although i did get to hear a gang shootout while walking home. called the cops, then had to break in my house because my roomie locked the doors with the skeleton key from the inside. with cops out looking for the gun bandits i was expecting a spotlight any minute to be shown on me then tackled to the ground and clubbed. if there's one life experience it'd like to avoid it's jail, as much as i do have the face of an asskicker...i'd be some man's bitch in an hour. guys like me are used as currency in jail.

i miss bob ross, i wonder what he painted in his angst ridden youth. i think they were probably still happy clouds and peaceful stream paintings...but part of me wants him to have one or more paintings of full of bats, AND FLAMES, little satanic devils dancing around bleeding skulls! while and women in animal skinned bra's fight snakes. AND! bob ross himself put in the portait naked while swinging his mighty sworrrrd covered in the blood of satan!!!!! ...err, on second thought i hope he stuck to the happy moutain bluff scenes. i got a little carried away..woo

tonight i went to the Walker art museum with Beth-a-roni, we watched the russian rave dance film for a while and laughed at the wierdness contained within. russian teenagers dancing infront of a white background to bad techno...i learned many a smooth dance step from closely studying these films, i blame them for my bad dancing abilities. i love that these people, half way around the world, have no idea that hundreds of peoples laugh at their moves on a daily basis. i especally like butch camofloge girl while on the other hand considerably do not like make out couple with the girl with spillage around the middle. i learned that gay men have sex on the cherry statue in the gardens...then went off to Little T's for Fried ice cream. with our bellys full of carmel and vanilla goodness we headed out to the place i call dead hooker bog...so creatively named because of the dead hookers which were found in this park. we proceeded to taint the pristine waters of dead hooker bog with fireworks and lighter fluid(i threw a lighter because i was mad at it for not having better lighter grip). the firework grand finalee didn't work out like we planned(all the fireworks without fuses thrown in a pile and set on fire) so we devised a plan to light either the life guard tower or beth's sisters car on fire...unfortunantly beth's sister forgot to get fire because of stupid friend insurance and we were too lazy to light the lifeguard tower on fire...that'll have to wait untill the next use of illegal fireworks. with satisfying amounts of pollution in our bodys and in the lake we headed back home.

blockbust makes me hate them even more now, they seem to think everyone has dvd players and don't stock most movies in VHS form anylonger. dvds and hdtv make me angry like hulk. i think i'm going to revert back to black and white television and 8mm films...ok so what if 8mm has no sound. it's better when you make up your own dialog anyhoo. godzilla at 1st ave proved this. ok ok dvds are cheap and wide screen fits films better...but it's cooler to be all anti establishment, and i will NEVER give up the 8mm format...i like the smell of a old projector too much. ok so i couldn't find Swimming With Sharks in vhs format, for the sake of Stacy aka flock of seaguls, i will not give up this hunt.

today i found out that the dinkytown and st paul Cheapos are closing and that Cheap-o might be going out of business completly. Treehouse, Extreme Noise and hymies are the record stores of choice. BUT Cheapo to me always ment a place i could go at 10pm and rummage threw the daily racks with the annoying plastic clanking noise ringing in my ears...minneapolis won't be the same if this is true.

some praise i left on EBAY...and the response. that's one priceless mastercard moment. le sigh.

Praise: I am new in America! Thank you eBay seller for new wonderful wife! I will beat her often!
Response: You're Very Welcome.

my very first legless armless organ player...jesus use me!

Thu, 22 May 2003 00:12:19 GMT

Wed, 21 May 2003 22:11:28 GMT

I am not: a fat black man named Tito, although sometimes i wish i were. at least maybe then i wouldn't dance painfully like a whitey
I hurt: insects and find pleasure in their pain...MWHAHAHHA
I love: wierdness and the goosepimply feeling i get when i watch a really good movie for the first time. oh, and old people with interesting storys to tell.
I hate: ignorance and stupidity, and getting corn stuck in my teeth. also unoriginality, the worst forms of insecurity and reruns of MASH
I fear: a chainsaw weilding maniac, especally if he were one of the little people
I hope: there really are unicorn people, and their evil
I crave: a really good flap jack, a traveling buddy and a really good haunted house.
I regret: doing what i did to theresa
I cried: NEVER! ONLY PUSSYS CRY! ok during the Mad World part of Donnie Darko, when i found out my friend died and when i broke up with my girl friend
I care: about family, friends, the zuba pants guy and myself because i'm a selfish prick
I always: imagine myself as a rockstar, can invent new games and will love creative meaningless banter
I long: to make my own movies and to travel the world looking for oddities
I feel alone: right now, but then sometimes i like and even need that. loner dave.
I listen: to Surfin Bird and do the Peewee herman dance
I hide: my smelly underwear when people come over, and the fact that i sometimes eat green beans raw and like it.
I cause: brain tumors and birth defects
I sing: in the shower, while driving, during karoeke
I dance: the twist, the watusi, the swim, the cool jerk, the electric boogaloo, the evil mustache twirl, the worm, the robot, and the sexy dance dance. so basically at any shows with a danceable beat. don't be afraid of the dancing.
I write: everynight before going to bed..then i dance in my underwear
I breathe: toxic air sludge
I play: the harmonica like a old black blues musician and sometimes enjoy mocking the tuba player next door. when i say mock i mean in the most loving sense.
I miss: playing pacman on my atari, giant bug movies, hanging out with brandi and sacramento, charles bronson type bad action movies, people not worrying so much about fashion, Mst3k, riding bikes with large groups of friends(and riding scooters).
I learn: something new everyday...unless its one of those days where i just walk around talking to inantimate objects with a bucket over my head.
I feel: the urge to learn how to make oragami and fake blood and brains
I know: how to swear in 6 different languages, that i'll live outside the US at least once in my life and that bull dogs can not fly no matter how much i want them to
I say: cannibulism is the world's answer to overpopulation and starvation.
I succeed: at falling down esculators that are going up. ...and best when pressure is on.
I fail: when doing something that i'm not 100% behind...and at making bull dogs fly
I dream: about being lost on a tropical island full fo native women...and only women. being fanned with palm leaves and saranaded with a ukelale. while learning the hula
I wonder: why more people don't wear leederhosen and love ren and stimpy.

i must go get ready for wrestling and hipshaker...i'll add more later tonight!

I AM THE MONKEY SUPERHERO

Wed, 21 May 2003 09:03:41 GMT

Monday was the anniversery of the day that me and theresa started going out. a sad day for me. i miss her as my best friend, that friend i could be insanly silly with. i miss her sarcastic wit. i miss head butting while trying to kiss. i miss waking up next to her after watching a violent thunderstorm on her bed together the night before. i miss dancing in her room to prince, driving aimlessly on warm summer nights singing purposefully badly to micheal jackson and guns and roses. i miss sniffing her like a monkey(and eating the bugs out of her hair). i miss scaring each other late at night....talking threw the walls(or screaming) while both laying in bed. i miss finding opium vietnese dealers disguising their buisness as video stores. she truly did open my mind to alot of things.. and i do miss so much about her. i'm sad because we never got to do our version of the micheal jackson song "The Girl Is Mine" in the video kareoke booth at the MOA. and yes that is possibly the dorkiest song ever made...it still makes me giggle listening to it though...everyone download it NOW. i wonder if i'll ever have a partner in crime that can compare. i honestly wanna share a brain with someone again...and this time cook it right.

i bought the book 'Dead Man Walking', still one of the few movies that can make me tear up.

on the bus i saw a man that looked like Richard Pryor only with an extremly goofy looking overbite. he was with a pimped out girl that was in a wheel chair, she looked kinda like a disabled big booty female beetle juice. they were making out then richard pyror grabs her by the head and starts licking her face right on the bus...i look away before i vomit and hear her scream "my face isn't a salt block, horse face muther fucker!" beetle juice girl made my day filled with joy.

am i the only person that actually looks forward to getting old? velcro shoes, spraying brats with the hose when they walk on my lawn, the excitment of a good nap, little yapping ankle biter dogs, that permanent medicated reek, pants pulled up to their armpits...the more you shrink the higher they go, soon it looks as if your just legs and a head. how could one not look forward to it "give me back my mush! ...YOU STOLE IT! I KNOW YOU DID!"

i think everyone is insecure in one form or another...it's just the people that know their biggest flaws and are ok with them that i really tend to get along with.

today Beth came over and we made fudge, and not like that you sick wackos.. it ended up being more of a glop of peanut butter/marshmellow gooness. when i ate some it hurt my teeth...a sure sign of goodness, i could of eaten some all night. kinda like when you eat 4 bowls of cap n' crunch and your teeth hurt and the roof of your mouth is bleeding...but for some reason you still need more. after our cooking follies we watched Ricki O...which just so happens to be the all time best kung fu gore film EVER, and dig his 80's rocker hair. next time it rains i must go out under a street lamp and do shirtless fist pumps.....then lick the blood from my mouth and give a Transient man a fist lobotomy.. or just distroy a bunch of gravestones...it's ok as long as it's for nessecary kung fu training.

WRESTLING tomorrow at first ave. everyone should come and wear the mexican wrestling masks that i gave you...the perks of being on the dave inside circle of friends. me thinks kelly should come and we should makes signs smack down style. i still need to give you your mask, among other goodies. captain LOU albano is one of the great forgotten wrestlers of my time. long live rubber band face.

i want to find a picture of a man that was a real life cyclops...and i'm not just talkin one eye...it must be in the center of his face. i love sideshows and freaks, i honestly would want to do a documentary on them but i think it's been over done. it used to be legal to boil someone to death as a form of the death penelty in the US. i love me some PBS jiggas and on that overly happy note, g'night mates!
he was half man .. half beast... but 100% heart.

do you rub your naughty bit while growling at the sandwich lady?

Mon, 19 May 2003 10:34:26 GMT

am i experiencing a quarter life crisis or what? lately i've been thinking far to much about what i want out of life and feeling very restless. is it possible that some people live an entire life without experiencing change? i need change, i thrive off of it, with out it i'd shrivel up. maybe i'm just looking for that one powerful experience. a friend of mine died last week and i think it somewhat opened my eyes that i need to get out and do things NOW. do what sort of things? hopefully travel, get into mischief, learn, and meet alot of new friends. i want this part of my life to be full of most of the weird and interesting stories for me to tell my grandkids when i'm a grumpy old man. someday i do want to have kids and get married....*yipe marrage* so i need to travel NOW, before i settle down at all...before responsibility hinders it. maybe i should just join the Navy and get an anchor tattooed on my chest....PRIVATE PILE!!!... ok maybe not. i think i'd rather snort pixie sticks for a living.

last night(saturday) i went and saw 'Enon' and 'The Faint'. i met Kate and Alex *evil mustache twirl* MWHAHAHAHAHHAHA and made up our own dialog to the godzilla movie "hamburgers!" then did the boob rub dance...both are pretty swanky kids and i think we'll have to terrorize the city together sometime very soon. i saw a ton of people i hadn't seen for a while...didn't see kelly, what up wiff dat BIG K! i was in the front of the dance pit. i looked for the blonde Frankenstien with no luck. Enon ruled my dancing shoes. i ended up meeting jennie and we danced a ton, then went out to punk rock perkins but for some reason that night punk rock perkins was old people perkins. i've never really hung out with jennie for an extended period. she seems like a whole lot of fun, and from what i gathered we have alot in common. it was just kinda strange for somewhat obvious reasons. i hope we can hang out again.

peeing after holding it in a painfully long time is pure ecstasy, better then crack, sex, heroin all put together. just a random deep thought.

later this month the Cramps are coming the Cramps are coming!(insert bad PMS joke here). The very first record i ever bought was ' Bad Music for Bad People' and i can remember being 12 and thinking "i am no long a fan of techno" after hearing it. Even if they are as old as my parents, it'll still be cool to see them and to see the first rock and roll girl that i was ever attracted to that wasn't a member of the Go Go's. YIPPEEEEE everyone come and dance!

i talked to my roomie tonight about the night she drunkenly made out with tommy from guns and roses TEEEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHE... SHE RULES!! also she still knows him and talks to him, and once he actually called axel on her cell phone. i told her that would of been the best number to have saved and made prank calls too at a later date..but alas no. sigh

and on a parting note...joanie loves chachi. well i think we all love chachi. which by the way means penis in korean ....ya learn something everyday indeed. monday tuesday HAPPY DAYS...wenesday thursday CHACHI DAYS....

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Sat, 17 May 2003 05:17:06 GMT

Yesterday i randomly found a photo gallery with a show going on for local photographers in the basement. the only photographer that really stood out to me was the work of kristine heykants. she has a great grasp of lighting and style. check these out

i've always thought those nifty gold sparkle couch's at Nye's would make a great backdrop for a photo shoot or movie. oh yeah nye's is definitely something else i'll sincerly miss if i ever decide to move. RUTH ADAM'S AND THE WORLD'S MOST DANGEROUS POLKA BAND

sometimes i think fame can really ruin a great artist. alot of people just thrive best when their lives are more full of hardship and pain. maybe that's why alot of bands turn so bad once they start making it big...or maybe they just run out of good idea's and get hooked on herion...i know that's what happened to me.

last night Beth called me up around 10:00pm to go out. she took me out to cedar lake i thought to kill me but instead we watched the lunar eclipse. we found this old beat up life gaurd boat, crissoned it the SS smelly minoe. we sat in it and threw rocks in the water and at each other then told scary and strange storys about boats. we've decieded later this fall if i'm still here we'll gather 10 goons on a moonless night, watch Children of the Corn then play corn tag in a remote cornfield. after the eclipse we headed over to HardTimes Cafe in her Beast of a Automobile rightly named Magoo.

I must say HardTime consistantlly has the most diverse crowd in the cities. young, old, smart, dumb, black, white, mom's with kids and hermit writers (all seemingly excentric in some sort) can all be found down there at 1 in the morning. two men talking in african sitting next to a group playing chess and in discussion about their favorite dead kennedy songs. it seems harder and harder to find diversity like that anymore. also makes for interesting eves dropping.

me and Beth played a version of Rummy i've never heard of called mexican rummy and i was utterly distroyed. i found out that i really like vegan sausage and we talked about Law cases, the minneapolis Drunken indians in a squad cars trunk incident and talked alot of creative nonsense afterwhich we headed back to my place and watched Cemetary Man, one of the best horror movies EVER...even with the cheesy Cinemax esque porn scenes. reconfirmed the notion that Narke is one of the best clumbsy sidekicks around. I WANT A FAT DROOLING JOLLY CURLY LOOK ALIKE IN MY BASEMENT TO PLAY WITH AND I WANT HIM NOW! *stomps feet in temper tantrum sorta way* anyone reading this fit that discription?

anyone looking for a CLASSIC of an automobile?!? my blue and rust colored 92 geo junker sport goes up for auction next thursday! those bastards down at the impound lot took my baby away. i kinda miss her mufflerless monstertruck loudness.

also i think Beth will be a very good buddy, and she's nothing like anyone i know. she prefers classical music and is going to law school and yet is spontanios, creative and weird in a good way. i love my friends i have that share most of my interests but it's kinda nice to find someone that has new perspective on things.

also, last night i came to the conclussion that GG Allin is my lord and savior

DOWN... DOWN I GO, THERE IS NO END, AND THEN....

If I ever catch you in my bed again, I'll shoot your right then and there. Freak

Thu, 15 May 2003 09:51:20 GMT

lately i've been realizing more and more that i want my life to be about experiences and less about gathering crap to further clutter my room. albeit i love thrift shopping and hunting for those rare Monks 'I Hate You' 45s...but i want my life to be much more focused on getting somekinda enlightenment or fun out of all the experiences in my life. i don't really get that from buying/collecting records, hooker's fingers, comics, clothes, movies(ok maybe from the hooker fingers) i own enoguh random wierd junk as it is... sometimes it just seems that people put too much merit into what they own or what other people own. whoa i'm not exactly sure where that rant came from... basically i feel the urge to travel right now, go out and meet new wierdos . i have this desire to experience things i've never had a chance or known about before. i became fascinated with Kerouac in early highschool i kinda wanted to become a modern day cassady, perhaps with slight less drinkin and womanizing. i can't wait untill later this month when my kind parents give me their car and i'll be able to go on random driving roadtrips again. that's probably one of my favorte things to do(apart from playing girl talk..err more on that later)...drive in a random direction, mapless, trying to get lost....and usually somehow failing but still havin fun. i've found micheal jackson and ? and the Mysterians as being good travel music.

anyhoo today i went over to Rebecca's house and played Girl Talk with her younger hyperactive sister and friends. for all of you not in the know, girl talk is this early 90's middle school board game designed for fluffy banged girls to get wacky at slumber partys with. I ended up getting "call a boy that you know and tell him that you like him" and well...my guy friends are all rather hidious monsters and i needed those ten points! so instead i called up some guy that was stalking rebecca and that i found out was extremely homophobic *evil laugh*. later in the game i ended up drawing a heart on my face with lip stick...all this and i didn't even win! i was feeling slightly less masculine when i finally got home so i crushed a beer can on my forehead while shooting a gun into the air and eating a raw bloody steak with my bare hands....some masculinity points restored.

after that shurrade i headed over to village video and talked to a eccentric old lady about Ted Bundy, japanese culture, theromin music, the state of radio today and she even threw a david lee roth reference in there...yes a DAVID LEE ROTH REFERENCE. i wanted to adopt her as my grandmother but she had to go to a swing dance class. with that conversation stuck in my head i left the store smiling. i rented Tompopo, a bad 50's robot movie which i forget the name of and Mod Fuck EXPLOSION... i far too much time watching bad movies.

today i bought not one but two twin peak companion books today for 60 cents each! 'The Autobiography of F.B.I. Special Agent Dale Cooper' and 'The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer' *schwing Garth!*. i had no idea these were even available. anyone else know of others out there!? thank god for yet another David Lynch reference in my journal.

i want to make a documentary on carnies.

tomorrow i spend all day trying to design a frankenstien tattoo

this is what happens when you spill paint on the garage floor at MY HOUSE!!

take a bow mr. wet willy

Wed, 14 May 2003 09:56:04 GMT

3 days ago on the bus i saw a man with what looked like elephantitis on his face, he looked very lonely and sad, i wanted to talk to him and be his friend. later on the same bus i saw the best dressed old black man i've ever seen. he was in a fitted old 40's suit, with a hand painted tie and even had a matching carved ivory cane...he was very old probably about 75 or 80 and for no apparent reason he had a bright red beard. he started staring at these 14 year old girls and said "wasss up" in a raspy old creepy voice, i don't think i want to be his friend. it made me fell like i was in a Budwieser Commercial if it were directed by David lynch. it was almost as strange as the day i saw the traffic directing midget in front of my house.

Mexican soda really is better then our lousy american soda(because it uses real sugar while our cheapo american junk uses sweetners), plus it comes in glass bottles(!). me and gwen found a little local grocery place in my neighbor which stocks them. all the benifits of living in mexico with only half the cockroaches! i need the Korla Pandit records, the first turban-wearing(lets hope not only) exotica organ player!

http://www.b3ta.com/motorbikes/
a link that will always make me laugh and snort
i'll never think of motor bikes the same again...HELLO THERE!

i went to see the Samples tonight for free at 1st ave, i was expecting the 80's ska group and got a bad dave mathews type contemporary rock group, YIPE!! i should of known something was up when i went into first ave and the place was neither full of pot OR cigarette smoke and everyone was dressed like they just went shopping at Eddie Bauwer. so many loafers! afterward me and beth went to little T's and drew a godzilla vs a large grasshopper scene on our placemat and did a german word puzzles. little T's has the best fried ice cream i've EVER had...yes yes that was the first time i've ever had fried ice cream.

latley i've been really trying to deciede on whether or not i want to move to San Francisco. i know if it were march and 10 below zero outside it'd be a bit more easy. if only the friggin winters weren't so harsh here. i do like telling people back home that there are people living in igloos and polar bears running around though. some of the things i'd truly miss if i were to move:
- Gwen, Kelly, Evan, Rebecca, Beth, Justin, Theresa, Karrie, Mike, Kate, Kristina and mexican Marie and OMG Kate
- the dangerous loring park play ground
- those spiffy midwestern thunderstorms
- the minneapolis skyline at night
- the overabundance of great video stores
- hymies records and the two neato gals the run the joint
- Stacy if she were to come back (i still need to give her the replaceable heart i made her out of spare 85 toyota parts, a toaster oven, and modeling glue)
- 2am trips to Mickeys Diner and the chicken greese and zuba pants guys
- unique thrift store
- the Lake st. Bus
- Noahs Ark and the underwater go carts
- Midnight movies and runnign around camp snoopy when it's deserted at 3am
- karaoke at grumpys
- that old pinball place i stumbled across one strange night in some little suburb
- free 1st avenue shows
- dreamhaven and their huge amounts of old monster magazines, i want them all!
- exploring the st.paul prohibition caves at night all illegally ooOOOoo
- tubbing and sledding down the suicidal saint paul hill at night
- Little T's fried Ice cream

i'll have to contemplate this a bit longer i do beleive...

i'm a mocker

Fri, 09 May 2003 20:43:08 GMT

faux jean tonight at 1st ave. i talked to theresa tonight, the first time in about a month and a half . i still do kinda miss her, not really as a girl friend just as my best friend. we really did bring out the best in each other...and alot of the worst as well. minneapolis needs good horror/exploitation film and or comic convention *geek snort*. i saw a kid riding a old junky vespa today...yes their trendy but they are just damn cool to me. i remember really wanting to see Quadraphilia for years, then finally seeing it and actually rooting for the rockers.