it's been a long time, buster keaton.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Oh, those were the days... You know, before computers and cell phones with touch screens and talking ducks and/or geckos on television and digital television and lcd televisions and push button telephones and companies that make billions of money that don't make anything and oil spills that threaten to kill all life in the Gulf of Mexico and other stuff. Damn! I used to walk to school uphill in the snow only to turn around and walk to the park where I ditched and smoked clove cigarettes and ate corn dogs dipped in mustard, and not that shitty brown mustard, the good yellow mustard which is also good on a pastrami sandwich, by the way. Let's not even get into the whole pancakes thing, I could type for weeks about that... and eggs.
Posted by Brooks at 11:59 AM
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Words. No, really. Words. Do you know what I mean? They're important for communication, but not just in a ho-hum real word way, but also in a "If I were a super hero, like Wendy (Super Woman), I would talk to animals" kinda way. Are you sure you know what I mean? I'm staring to doubt myself at this point, so there's only one last thing I would like to say. Don't forget to pack the clown. Peace, Out!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
I'm addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It's always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious.
Movie producers are serious.
Everybody's serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 1:33 AM
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Ok, so I'm shooting this naked girl the other day and she looks at me longingly as if to say, come hither (or some other Shakespearean type "come here" phrase). I looked at her for a few seconds because I was a bit cornfused, but the longer I looked the weirder her expression became until it looked more like she was saying, "I have a very bad itch on my back, could you get it for me?" Well, by then, the shot was done and now I have the perfect image for my portfolio. I'm going to send it out as a direct mail piece to all of the ad agencies that deal with clients that make those bamboo back scratchers that you get in your tropical drinks in Waikiki. I'm gonna be rich!!!
Posted by Brooks at 2:43 PM
Friday, November 17, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 6:32 PM
Monday, October 09, 2006
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 6:12 PM
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 5:24 PM
Friday, October 06, 2006
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 6:33 PM
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 6:17 PM
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
The White House Office of National Drug Control Policy (ONDCP) Uploading Anti Drug Videos to Youtube
The White House is distributing government-produced, anti-drug videos on YouTube, the trendy Internet service that features clips of wacky, drug-induced behavior and step-by-step instructions for growing marijuana plants.
The decision to distribute public service announcements and other videos over YouTube represents the first concerted effort by the U.S. government to influence customers of the popular service, which shows more than 100 million videos per day.
The administration said it was not paying any money to load its previously produced videos onto YouTube's service, so the program is effectively free. Already by Tuesday, when the White House formally announced its video efforts, thousands of YouTube users had watched some of the government's videos.
"If just one teen sees this and decides illegal drug use is not the path for them, it will be a success," said Rafael Lemaitre, a spokesman for the White House Office of National Drug Control Policy.
WTF! Go to their user profile to see what videos they've uploaded or read more of the original article.
When will the insanity end?
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 5:03 PM
Saturday, September 09, 2006
A professor from the department of quantum and optical electronics of the Ulyanovsk State University in western Russia has patented a method of making things invisible, Interfax news agency reported.
The so-called invisibility cloak, created by Oleg Gadomsky, is called “The method of conversion of optical radiation” in the patent.
Gadomsky had been long experimenting on nanoparticles of gold. He now claims to have invented a sub-micron stratum of microscopical colloid golden particles that makes an object placed behind it invisible to an observer.
“Only static objects can be made invisible for the time being, as during motion the radiation frequency changes. But soon it will be possible to create a cap of darkness and a magic cloak like Harry Potter’s,” the scientist believes.
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 7:44 PM
Friday, September 08, 2006
Thursday, September 07, 2006
My name was Wendy Halftrousers. I was a burly man and spoke in coarse words. Once in a fit of anger I rolled a friar into a gulch and belched an entire weeks rations after him. Garbed in only Melvins Plaid Suit of Intoxication I single handedly caused the collapse of the nation Texicus, lost to history until now. Inadvertently I invented the idea of Chuck Norris whilst churning butter from a stone. I had been known to cleave a man in twain without spilling a drop of mead from my flagon. As a hobby I practiced the fine and dark arts of vivisection. All of this and it still didn't stop everyone from laughing about the fact my name was Wendy Halftrousers.
Posted by Mr Anigans at 8:37 PM
So I don't normally take customers off the street. Well, what I mean is that the general public usually can't afford me. So when I got an email from a real estate agent asking if I could shoot a head shot for her, I had second thoughts. Anyway, I decided to give her a price (a few hundred bucks, quick and simple) and she said OK. Her next email informed me that her only concern was that she was 6' 6" tall and she didn't want the pictures to be looking up at her. "No worries about your height" I told her. "I have a very tall ladder. :-)"
So this morning she showed up and my first thought was that she had to be a man. She had a slim to medium build and long blonde hair. I kept looking for an Adam's apple, but if she/he had one, I couldn't tell. She was actually quite nice and loved the pictures I took of her. She had one of those names, like Deana, that could have been changed from a man's name with one simple letter. Oh, and some or all of this may be true, or maybe it isn't, or maybe just one small part is a lie. I'll leave it up to you to decide.
I'm glad this blog has been brought back from the dead! I'll try to post something a bit more strange like I used to when I get some motivation.
Posted by Brooks at 3:42 PM
One thing I cannot stand is liver or liver Pâté. My mom used to try and cook liver for us as kids, liver and onions that is. It was thee grossest thing ever. Anyway, people seem to love Liver Pâté in Norway but it's called Liver Postei. The most famous brand here has a picture of this cute Norwegian kid on the packaging making the stuff look innocent. But it's not. Oh and Mackerel Pâté is popular too, and OMFG you should see and smell this stuff. Es horrible.
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 2:10 PM
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Damascus is (not well known) to be the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world. It is thought to have been first inhabitated between 8,000 and 10,000 BC however it is not well documented as an important city. Anyway, Sovereignty over Damascus passed from the Assyrians to the Chaldaeans (Neo-Babylonians) under King Nebuchadnezzar in 572 BC. Then to Alexander the great, to the Seleucid empire, then to the Ptolemaic empire after 332 BC. Damascus soon become a popular city with trade routes between Arabia, Petra and Palmyra around 222 BC. Damascus's importance as a caravan city was evident with these trade routes and being near the river Barada which the towns walls are enclosed by.
Ok, so onto 64 BC where St. Paul (of the old testament) is passing through and has a vision. He is struck blind immediately and soon converts to Christianity. Because of his calling or vision as it were he decideds to stay, setting up a small camp near Barada where he lives and makes his living as a prophet. Because he is blind and Damascus is hot, he invents sunbathing. Partially due to his incessant passion about the sun but also because it is hot and laying near the flowing river is cooling and soothing to him. Passers-bye on route to Petra and Arabia hot and tired see St. Paul sunbathing with a growing number of sunbathers following his actions, taking in the sun and quietly murmuring hymns of grace. Because Damascus is so hot followers would (after hours of in the sun) turn to the water to cool down. They would bathe in the waters and soon return to continue sunbathing. Each person would take turns cooling off and return to their spot where others would watch the water evaporate from their skin and wait in anticipation for their turn. It was mystifying. As time went on St. Paul took donations for being able to sunbathe in his small commune of Christians where he lectured and spoke the word. Soon others who claimed land decided to charge as well to sunbathe and be able to watch the water evaporate from their bodies. It was deemed a cleansing effect that should be payed for. The holy water returning to the heavens where God would cleanse you and make you clean again. This lasted approximately 37 years until the Romans conquered Damascus and claimed it as their own, putting an end to the business of sunbathing. I love you.
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 4:40 PM
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
The inners and outers of circular involvement in regards to consciousness acceptance with breath being the god engine
In a DMT test last night I was able to exhale and step into my own breath vortex which was a split second creation of an entire galaxy complete as our own. My breath was a bubble just as when you blow bubbles as a kid, except I was able to step into it as I produced it. I became smaller and entered this whole other world where everything was small. The beings I met inside were small like children but old and wise. They tumbled and tossed and talked to me without words. Inside we exhaled and created more new galaxies which we explored together. We danced and sang and the wise ones explained this phenomenon to me. "This is how all life is formed" they said at once, because it wasn't a single voice I heard, it was a total voice. The voice of all creation. "Without you and your breath", they said, "We don't exist". And "without us, you and your breath don't exist". To keep everything balanced we must inhale and take in what we have created. So we as bodies become the new galaxies. Bubbles of life and realities that grow inside us infinetely. It happens every second we breath and we can choose to either explore outwards or inwards. We all laughed and sang again and I exhaled some more. Watching my breath form new galaxies for me to explore.
Posted by Lindsey Brohan at 7:49 PM
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Good evening everyone and welcome to the late night show here at KCME. I'm Brooks and I'll be with you until six ayem bringing you only the hardest, fastest metal so you can bang your head until you leave a puddle of blood on the coffee table. You know the number so give me a call and let me know what you want to hear. Let's start the show off right with some Scorpions and The Zoo. Rock On!...
Posted by Brooks at 11:30 PM
I just want to say that I've been enjoying all the wonderful new posts here lately.
Posted by Brooks at 11:26 PM
Thursday, August 11, 2005
The greatest thing to happen to America is about to happen.
Yes, I've gone to the future, folks. I went to see who would be president in '08. I didn't bring pictures of the losers. And Marty and Doc told me not to alter the future, but I can't contain my giddyness.
Here is your next president.
Posted by Ev at 8:59 PM
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Have you ever had pancakes? Wow, I just discovered this delicacy and let me tell you something, they were excellent. I was in my private jet flying home from the jungles of Brazil when I found out that one of my crew members had smuggled some onboard. At first I was all. "Are you crazy?" But then I was all, "Let me try'em!" Just like eggs, I was a late bloomer on the pancake thing and I'm going to eat them every night for dinner until I explode. That is if I don't get killed by the Brazilian Pancake Cartel first.
Posted by Brooks at 11:24 PM
Thursday, July 28, 2005
I was wondering the other day. Just then a cop on a motorcycle reaches into my car window and grabs my seat belt.
CHiPs: Shouldn't you be wearing this?
Me: Uh,... I... was on my way to the shop to get it fixed. It's broken.
CHiPs: OK, then I'll give you a ticket for speeding back there instead.
Me: Wow! You have a great jaw line. Do you model?
CHiPs: Step out of the car please.
Posted by Brooks at 11:38 AM
Thursday, June 30, 2005
One time I knew what I was doing. One time I knew what I wanted...then I got it all, and realized that I never considered the reality of what it all was. What was I thinking?
Posted by Number Mouth at 10:23 AM
Monday, June 27, 2005
Thursday, May 26, 2005
It was when I stopped slapping him that he finally realized the truth of my words. The damned place was haunted. How could it not be with the sort of death dealing that happens here. Of course no one ever expects to be haunted by cattle. But this is where we worked, and this is how we lived. The slaughter house. I swear to you I seen ole Bessy come right through that wall over there, chewing her ectoplasmic cud. She's looking for revenge I tell ya. Wrongs need to be righted or her bovine soul will never find peace. It's just, how do you fix that. She's been turned into Big Mac's already. I suspect one day I might mysteriously end up in a meat grinder. Or a hoagie perhaps. Then you can sue for all the money in the world and have Michael Bay produce a high budget film to commemorate the fall of Bessy. Maybe, sure was tasty though.
Posted by Mr Anigans at 5:46 PM
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Fourteen years ago I made the aquaintance of a man while I was touring the country on my large, red tricycle. I had just pulled into a diner to sup on some greasy food when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned just in time to see a small hairy man approaching, a limp in his step and a top hat on his head. He couldn't have been more than 4 feet tall, but something in his eyes led me to believe that although he was small in stature, he was HUGE in spirit.
He walked up and tugged on my shirt and said "Miss. I saw you approaching on your lovely tricycle. I, myself, ride a tricycle and have been a fan of the contraption since I was but a young boy. If you don't mind, may I ask why you ride such a device?"
I stood still, unsure of what to say, and then I replied "Let's go inside. Join me for diner foods, and I shall tell you whatever you desire to hear."
We went inside and the afternoon turned into night, and after hours of delightful conversation, we found ourselves drawn to eachother in such a manner that when we left eachother for our seperate destinations, we shared a most passionate kiss.
After we parted, I heard whisper on the wind of him all over the rest of the world. The hairy man on the tricycle was a legend in his own right, and I feel privileged to have ever made his aquaintance. May we meet again, oh hairy dwarf. I'll watch the sunrise for your tiny shadow fortnightly.
Posted by Number Mouth at 8:17 AM
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
From the Diary of "The Oregon Trail on Acid":
Sitting around a slowly dieing fire, growling bellies furiously screaming "ROSEBUD....ROSEBUD."
We began to see things not of this world. I saw a giant turkely leg, dancing and singing an Irish Folk song.
I knew I must be hallucinating because my pistol told be to pay attention to Teddy T.
"Man, I'm hungry.", Said Ol' Teddy T. "I'm so hungry I could eat a goddamned horsecock."
Teddy, as you could guess was not exactly the sharpest pear in the basket of heads, but then, after 200 days of exhaustion and surviving solely on acid laced boot soles...none of us were.
"Teddy, you can't eat horsecocks. Everyone knows it's the horse anus that's most delicious.", snapped Jed the Fisherman. Jed the Fisherman, incidently knew nothing about fishing. He was called Jed the Fisherman because he loved to take Fish and stick em down his pants. Once down his pants, he would chase the local ladies with his floppy fish dangler.
"I'll fuckin' kill you, Jed, if you touch my horsie cocks.", said Teddy angrily.
Jed didn't say anything, but fired a look at me that meant serious business tea time scrumpets would soon be due. I fired him back a look that carried with it the luggage of a rich woman with side saddles.
I tried to calm everyone down, but I was so fucked up on the acid boots, that I just ended up taking off my clothes and flopping around on the ground like a worm.
"I'm the Worm King, you bastards.", I growled into the night sky.
"THE WORM KING!, I TELL YOU!!!"
Posted by Ev at 12:26 PM
Friday, May 13, 2005
See, there's this one town where everything is backwards and everyone does silly things that normally would seem strange to all of us. One day, a tiny rabbit was hanging out with another rabbit and they'd been friends for a long time but then one of them drank this fermented carrot juice and the rabbit was drunk but the other rabbit liked playing with the drunk rabbit even when she wasn't drunk and then giggling started, and a sheep came over and didnt like the giggling because it was bad. See giggling was only allowed between rabbits and sheep, not rabbits and rabbits, but they didn't realize how crazy they were getting really, but still kind of yes. Anyway. The rabbits parted...and the sheep was mad... and everyone just needed to sober up and love eachother again.
Posted by Number Mouth at 6:06 PM
Monday, May 02, 2005
If you are into dried meats and you happen to be near the California/Nevada border then look for a small shoppe called "Alien Jerky". Ask for Terry. He'll be the Native American fellow in the corner enticing you with a knowing look in his eye. "We both know why you're here," it'll say. "You want to taste of the forbidden flesh." And he'll quietly lead you to the back where the real jerky is. You'll feel dread at finally going through with this twisted fetish. But then you'll feel release from the material world as you undertake the sweetest jerky of them all. Terry will lead you to a sweat lodge where you will smoke from a long pipe carved from a much to0 familiar bone. You pass the pipe back and forth and in between inhalations you consume as much jerky as your shaking body can maintain. The trembling starts slowly, in between your belly button and pelvis. You start seeing faces, names flood your head. You are becoming them and more.....
Posted by Horatio Plink at 10:35 AM
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Last night I was escaping from a monkey town and I was hiding in these hill billies minivan and we were stopped at a gas station and the guys following us caught up with us and I offered to take them to Disneyland and they thought about it for a second then agreed so we all went there and I tried to escape again but there was a guy handing out martinis at the Disneyland Park so when I passed him I couldn't resist and I ordered a vodka martini shaken not stirred with a splash of raspberry sake and then I had them put it in a spill proof martini glass and I ran away really fast and then Goofy was fondling me on the tram and I punched him in the larynx and ran to my car.
Moral of the story: Don't eat cat food
now playing: Solex - Randy Costanza
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
So Jeff posted down below me about how he was in an accident and how he dreamed about the Burger King guy who scares him and I am also frightened of him, but what I'm about to tell you will both terrify you and mystify you...
I was there when Jeff woke up, he spends the night at the place that I sleep, and... no shit, when he woke up, he was sweating and screaming and I was all "jeff? what's wrong?" and he was all "oh dude, that fucking burger king guy, the big one, he was after me and shit" and I was like "no way dude, that guy is crazy scary" and jeff was all "yeah I know but it was just a dream" and then...we looked down in Jeff's hands and he was holding a huge gold crown that said "BK" on it. Then we cut our arms up with broken wine bottles.
Yeah, and I'm so totally scared of the bald guy from the Six Flags commercials too. Fuck that dancin' guy, man He's the devil!!!
Posted by Number Mouth at 10:30 PM
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
So the other day i was chattin up some yokels on the topic of religion and i expressed some views that were not nearly as conservative nor traditional as the aforementioned yokels, but instead of responding with witch-burning-fervor, they nodding in understanding and said "i accept your beliefs as different than mine"
oooo lookit me goin all controversial, oh dear what happened to the lighthearted lies of the past! TOO MUCH ANGST! we emo kids ruin everything, ah well.
Posted by K. H. at 2:10 PM
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Last night I spent the night in a hotel in a shit town in the desert in California and before the clock struck 3 am, I was watching my lover peel the skin off of his body from the neck down. He'd decided the right thing to do was to get tribal on me and I require that my men graft my skin onto theirs in a sexual exchange of raw fluids and fatty tissue. Rubbing alcohol reconstitued the orange juice concentrate to a high enough pH level such as was needed for the skin transfer, and as long as the hyperbaric chamber surrounding said area contained no larger an oxygen level than 18% dilution, we'd be fine. It was working!!! Hydrogen pockets were set at North/South/East/West poles which held the charge in an elevated position until the airspeed velocity of the Neoplastic brackets reached 16 kph. Then we got freak nasty and it was done. Hot, no?
Posted by Number Mouth at 11:54 PM
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
My heart felt like it was beating in my head. I could feel each pump of my pulse as if it were a shockwave of energy radiating through my entire body. The sound of crunching leaves and heavy breathing surrounded us as we ran.
We were trying to get away, to hide. I look back now and realize that trying to run and sneak in the forrest in autumn is almost damned impossible. We could hear their staggered shuffle, not too far away from us. I had my dad's remington shotgun. When he died, it was all he left to me. Funny, at the time, I was so angry with him. I deserved so much more. But at that precise moment, I clung to that gun as if it was my very life itself.
My brother had my grandfather's service revolver. I asked him how many rounds he had left. He signaled for me to shut up, and then rasied four fingers. Great. Four shots. I had only two 12-guage shells left. We'd only run about a half-mile away from our father's childhood home. A shabby little gray house. It didn't resemble a house anymore, it has been nearly 25 years since anyone had even been in the place. Or so we thought.
I nodded over to my brother and we got ready to run again. The closer that shuffle got, the more my heart pounded in my ears. My nerves, my entire body was screaming "RUN YOU STUPID FUCK.", but at the same time, I was simply paralyzed with fear.
What were they? I'd never seen anything like them. I'd never been so frightened in my life.
It was as we started running to the dirt trail that led back to the main highway about three miles out. When we reached the dirt trail, we ran as hard as we could.
Suddenly, on my right, a voice managed to screech out my name. "Micheal." I stopped dead in my tracks, sliding slightly forward on the dry earth, as I whipped to my right. There, for the first time, I saw them for what they really were.
And it wretched a fear so deep out of me, I nearly fainted.
Posted by Ev at 3:15 PM
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
From the Diaries of the Oregon Trail on Acid:
Circles. That's what it felt like we were doing. It should have only taken us 200 days to get to our destination. We were wandering again. We didn't break camp for three days, because the trees were following us.
The sun was a spy. We knew that the trees were working in cohoots with the Sun.
When we finally did break camp, Cookie decided it was time for stew. We had no meat left, so Cookie took Jeff hunting. Cookie came back alone with a sack full of bloody meat. He said that Jeff had took his own life in a fit of depression.
Jeff was prone to depression due to his oversized hat.
It's hard not to get swallowed up and lost in a hat like that.
While we ate our delicious stew, I gazed at the sky, which had taken on the shape of Tony Danza.
"Angeler, Samanter, Moner.", I could almost hear the voice of the beloved "Boss". That left me with a feeling of calm, and the knowledge that I would have to do the unthinkable.
My belt would have to die.
Posted by Ev at 4:56 AM
Sunday, March 27, 2005
To whom it may concern:
If you're reading this, then you already know what has happened. When tragic acts of nature strike and there you are lost in an oblivion of silence. The world keeps going, but you don't. When God reaches down and takes what's most precious to you, it's like you've been shoved into a glass tomb. You can't really hear or see what's going on, but you're alive. You're dead on the inside, but yer still breathin'. Those souls, those poor souls who've been in that place know. But this isn't a tragedy. What happened, did so for a reason. This wasn't an act of God, or Nature. This was an act of man. A man, who having destroyed everything inside of himself and devoured all that was good in his heart; became a void. A void that hungered and desperately gobbled up anything and everything that was good. Destroying the most precious pieces of life that we are granted. Destroying true beauty.
I told myself, that it wouldn't hurt anymore if I got revenge. I lied to myself. I suppose it was because the dark part of me, the demon in all man, just wanted to have a reason to be let loose. And I guess I was pretty tired of keeping that hate and bitterness, that I had clung to, all locked up in the vault in my mind. It was when I heard his last breath leave his body that I realized the true reality of it all. There was no great realization, there was no great closure. I had done what I had done for vengance and it had failed to fill my piecered heart.
Years from now, when everyone's forgotton about all this, I will have been right. Oh, to be sure, they're never gonna admit it. Nobody ever will. People, ya see, they just aren't ready to own up to the monsters we really are. No. The cattle, the populations, they want to believe that the human heart is a good thing. That the human race is a kind and benelovant race. But we aren't.
Hell, that same population, let the man....that monster...be created in the first place.
We're the not the same as the animals. The savage beasts that roam what's left of our wildernesses, even they are better than we. We're the product of pure evil. We're not evolution, we're a goddamned nightmare. I'm not writing this for your pity or your grief. I'm writing it so that everyone will know WHY it happened.
There's no such thing as right and wrong.
Getting to him was easy. He was a sucker for food. That bastard ate like 10 times a day. Always gorging himself on whatever food was brought in to him. I always imagined him as a greedy stock pig. They'd file in and bring him his slop. The reality of it was that he loved catered food. And the studio was more than willing to pay for it. Because he brought them souls. He brought them minds to pump full of propaganda.
Once I had secured a place with the catering van it was easy. The promise of food always roused the great beast in him. In his final, sad moments, when he realized WHO I was, and how far I was willing to go...well, lets just say I didn't think he could get any lower.
I used the same gun I used on everyone else. I saved the last bullet for myself. They took everything from me. Everything. And I was a willing partner in their schemes. I deserve no less than what they all received. What he received. Ignorance is no excuse.
That last moment of his life, I can't stop reliving it. The events play out in slow motion, I place the barrel between his eyes. He starts crying, pleading with me to let him live. I thumb the hammer back, slowly, breathing evenly. He loses control of his bladder. It smells like ammonia, I chuckle a bit. He keeps begging. "You wan' a cigarette?", I ask him as I light up my own. He just keeps sobbing, saying that he didn't know, that it wasn't his fault. I take a deep, dark drag off of my cig. I let the smoke fill my lungs and I start to exhale. I give him a "last rites" of sorts.
"This happened to you because you've been poisioning minds all over the world. This happened to you because you're a monster. This happened to you because you ruined my home. But most importantly, this happened to you because you're a stupid, bumbling fuck."
I pull the trigger and everything goes red.
They'll probably give him a hero's burial. They'll take his feathered yellow carcass, and probably bury him at Arlington National. I realize this, and more after he's dead. No rush of righteousness, no welling up of emotions. Just the emptiness that had been there before.
That's when I knew, I wasn't free yet. I hadn't killed them all. Of course! I was one of them.
Once I'm finished writing this explanation, I'm going to drive that goddamned bullet right through my skull. I'm going to put right what they'd put wrong for so long.
Take this knowledge and continue the fight for what's right. Keep your children free from monsters like us.
Number One with a bullet,
P.S. I had to live in a motherfucking trashcan. A trashcan. What.The.Fuck?
Posted by Ev at 5:56 PM
Saturday, March 26, 2005
I'm not sure of the correct spelling up there so if you don't know what I meant than shove off. Today I went to talk to Jesus. No, really. It's the time of year that I always pay him a visit. He's a kinder and gentler Jesus than the stories you may have heard. I mean all that violence in his past is all made up. He's really a great guy and a genius with the numbers (if you know what I mean). I remember a few years back, I was in what some might call a little trouble and it was my relationship with Jesus that saved me from really being dragged down a road I didn't want to travel. He stood by me when I needed him most and I'll remember that for the rest of my life here. Thank you Jesus Goldstein CPA.
Posted by Brooks at 8:00 PM
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
I was eating a bunch of drugs last night and I thought that I saw Yoda in the hallway so I went up to him and asked him if he knew that answers to the universe and he said ya, he did, so we went out for pancakes at the IHOP and talked about black holes and dust and crap. Then we went swing dancing, and man oh man....that Yoda can dance!
Posted by Number Mouth at 10:55 AM
From the Diaries of the Oregon Trail on Acid:
Bill caught "Dead Man's Disease" and had to be locked in a crate and carried by oxen. We thought that cutting off his legs would help, but they just got in the way. That is until we had leg stew.
Hell, we were hungry. And it wasn't like Bill was gonna use em again. Bill cried long into the night and sang a song about his father Edmund.
"Edmund was a wild man,
he drank out of a tin can,
He sobered up once for a woman,
but she caught him in bed,
with another woman, and
she cut off his nose to spite his face,
and caused him to lose the rabbit chase.
So don't be like Edmund,
who's rabbit is gone,
you'll end up with no mong."
Bill, had become prone to making up words, on account of the "itis".
I told Bill that he needed to find courage and starfish flavored chicken meat.
Bill just smiled at me and said "Snarflbat, tiggald kidturn, alredo."
Posted by Ev at 10:47 AM
Friday, March 18, 2005
Well, my nude model photo shoot is over and it looks like they'll be putting the photos on the covers of every magazine published in the United States in May. No retouching will be required because nude models are always perfect as is. Well, they may need to ad some booty for the black men's magazines, because you know how the brothas love them some big ol booty! Don't believe me?
Posted by Brooks at 11:19 AM
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
I'm in the middle of a photo shoot today and there are nude models all over me. What is it about being a photographer that makes the chicks go completely nuts?! It's a glamorous life folks, but I'm sure it's my unnaturally large noggin that turns the nude model's brains to jelly. This post barely qualifies to be on this blog.
Posted by Brooks at 2:29 PM
Monday, March 14, 2005
Fourteen and seven years ago, when I was but a child, I struck a deal with the devil. I would give him my soul in exchange for psychic powers. The deal was drawn up in blood of a virgin ox and signed on my birthday. The next day, I felt empty. My soul was gone, but I was ok because I suddenly knew things I shouldn't know. I knew what kind of car people had just by talking to them. I could tell you what your family looked like even if I hadn't met them. I could guess what people were thinking, and speak about it to them before they knew what had happened to them. I spoke to people in their minds, and stole their thoughts as well. Being soul-less was getting sad, and I began to regret selling my soul. I mean, its all we have, from this life until the next ones, right? So I went into mourning, trying to keep my wits about me every day...and each morning, I'd wake up and regret this little contract I'd signed with the devil! Who was I anyway? What kind of person would sell their soul? The soul is priceless! Why did I do this??? WHY???
Then I picked the lottery numbers, won $131,121,352.00 and yeah, I was cool wit dat.
Posted by Number Mouth at 9:49 AM
Friday, March 11, 2005
Wow, what a morning I've had so far. I parked my car near my favorite taco stand and was listening to my 8 track tape of Zeppelin's Presence, when I looked over at the car next to me. Well, let's just say that I hope Ellen doesn't read this blog because I totally saw Marcia Cross making out with Marcia Gay Harden. It was kinda hot because totally felt like I was watching the music video for the song "Nobody's Fault But Mine." They let me watch for a few minutes.
Posted by Brooks at 10:14 AM
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
I've said it once, I'll say it again. Jessica is not the first celebrity that wondered if Starkist had dead chicken in the can. Let me tell you a story that has rarely been told my children. Back during the depression there was an old silent film star named Patricia Albacora. I'll start by saying that for the day, Patricia was a hottie, all 5'1" 2 hundy of her. By today's anorexic Hollywood standards, she could only be in a sitcom, or play a lawyer on television, but back then she was the cat's meow. Yah, you heard. Anyway, she was also known as somewhat of an intellectual and was not only sought after for her womanly curves, but her keen knowledge of physics and art history. As one story goes, she was sitting on a bench in Central Park waiting for a suitor when she heard a loud gunshot. That gunshot was the last thing she ever heard as the bullet was meant for her, and it found it's target. So, who killed Patricia Albacora? No one really knows, but some speculate that it was the very suitor that she was waiting for. A certain Mr. Starkist. Alas, the legend of Particia Albacora and her secret knowledge of what is really in that little can.
Posted by Brooks at 7:33 PM
Today I woke up and thought
about life and how I'm sick of everything in it, and so I decided to get in the bathtub and sit and sit and sit...and in silence I sat thinking, yet not thinking at all. Life is random, life is expected and scheduled, nothing matters...everything matters. I'm frustrated, I'm tired, I'm ready to sit on the edge of the Grand Fucking Canyon and yell at the top of my goddamn lungs...thats what I want to do about how wonderful it is to be alive.
Today I woke up and thought
Posted by Number Mouth at 12:56 PM
i woke up this morning to utter blackness. "wtf" i thought, "what time is it?" i felt around and found my alarm clock, and felt the hands to see where they were pointing. 7 AM. "hmmmm....odd. perhaps it's an eclipse.." i thought to myself. then suddenly i realized what had happened. I had turned blind in the night. this has happened to me before, so i was prepared. i got out my cane, carefully felt through my closet for jeans and a tshirt, and set out for class. fortunately my OCD has given me the mental training to be able to drive the exact same route every day without the use of my eyes.....plus with my blindness i was able to park in the handicap spot.....leaving me with plenty of time to have a smoke and a coffee in the student lounge before class. yess....it is going to be a good day.
Posted by K. H. at 6:27 AM
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Ya, like 2 weeks ago I was talkin to Bob Henderschmidt from the grocery store and he told me that like 28 years ago a cult called "Red Dawn Rising" fought the law and you know the rest. 48 dead, but here's the kicker: they all were missing their left hand. I guess their laws said that the left hand is evil and you must rid the body of it in order to be cleansed. See back in the old days the called left-handers sinistrals or something, cuz like their brains are wired reverse of most people therefore they're evil. Any way since the leader, Curtis Mohammed Christ the III was left handed he couldn't set off the 22 tons of explosives since he was still getting used to being a righy all of a sudden. Booom-Fuckin-Kapoowwwwwwwooooooow Woooooooooooooow WoooooooooW. Sweet mercury the whole place would have went off like a goddamned Chinese fire drill.
Posted by Horatio Plink at 11:19 PM
Posted by Mr Anigans at 2:27 PM
Monday, March 07, 2005
Last year when I was a super hero, I was in the middle of saving a family of herons and their nest when I got a phone call from the president of the United States of America. He requested that I return to the motherland immediately in my invisible jet, which was powered by Grapermelon Slurpees and taco sauce. Hopping in my plane, I got distracted by a small ethiopian woman, pulling her hair out of a comb made with rhinoceros ribs strung together with glue made from rendered warthog fat. She seemed to me to appear in a trance of sorts, so I approached her just to make sure she was ok. As I got nearer to her, I could hear her humming a quiet little hymn which seemed to come out of the air at me. The humming penetrated my soul, nearly causing me to fall into a hypnotic trance before I snapped myself out of it and realized that she had a nazi tattoo on the back of her right elbow. I was nearly duped! By an ethiopian infidel! I wrapped my arms around her neck and began to choke her as I yelled into her ear "WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT OF ME? SPEAK WOMAN!!!" She began to tell me of how the Germans took over her small village many years ago and in return for her people's loyalty, they would keep the village's most prized posession a secret. She told me of how her people had inherited the Ark of the Covenant, and how there had been many a plague and disease to come to their small land, but as long as they kept the ark safe, they did not surely die. I listened to her story for a few minutes more before I noticed out of the corner of my eye a small monkey, drinking out of a bottle. I kept my eye on it for a moment more, til I realized that it had a name tag on its chest that read "Capt. Plasterneck". He wore a red suit of glimmering satin and black saddle shoes that had metal taps on the bottom. He began to tap dance for me and when he was finished, the woman and I gave him a standing ovation, then we all went to IHOP for stuffed crepes.
Posted by Number Mouth at 4:51 PM
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Friday, March 04, 2005
Okay so back when I was living in Seattle, I used to walk around everyday, because I had no job and no car. And everyday, I would pass by this little fountain next to an overpass, where people would throw in coins and make wishes. Often people would try to toss in a coin while driving over the overpass, but usually they would miss. I would always pick up the coins that didn't land in the fountain. Sometimes I'd find $20-$30 in change lying in the grass. Well after a year or two of this, I finally had enough money to go buy the fabulous drumset I'd been dreaming of since I was but yea high. Well I got to the music shop, and I tossed my bag of change down on the counter, and said "I want that drumset in the window" and the cashier began counting out my change....only to discover that I was 10 cents short. I was heartbroken! Only 10 more cents! So close to my dreams, and yet the fountain had been destroyed that very morning in a tragic accident in which a huge semi transporting explosives drove off the overpass and landed in it with fiery gusto. Well, I sadly left the music shop and began wandering the streets until I found myself back at the site of the fountain in all it's heartbreaking rubble. And then suddenly....beneath the overpass, amid the weeds, bracken, and cement foundation poles, i saw something shiny! I carefully crawled over teh rubble and there......lo and behold......was my desparately sought after dime! Unfortunately, that's when the roadside clean up crew saw me, and started chasing me with guns calling me a thief cuz they thought I was stealing wish money from the fountain. I tried to yell out my explaination over my shoulder, but their tommy guns made too much noise for them to hear me. They chased me all the way to Queen Anne, but I managed to make my way to the U District where I lost them in the crowd. I bought my drumset. And my dreams came true.
Posted by K. H. at 4:32 PM
So today I was walking down Santa Monica Boulevard and I happened to step onto a grate coming out of the ground and it blew my dress up and so I reached down and held it to my legs and then somebody thought I was Marilyn Monroe and asked me for an autograph and I yelled "SHE'S DEAD MOTHERFUCKER!" and they ran away.
Posted by Number Mouth at 2:53 PM
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Yesterday was the five year anniversary of a very important day in my life. Five years ago was the first time that I ate eggs. Why is this so important? Well, I bet myself when I was a little kid that I could go for the rest of my life without eating eggs and I stuck with that promise for a long time before I realized that it was a stupid idea. I mean, why would anyone not eat eggs just because they bet themselves they wouldn't? I didn't even have an allergy or a particular aversion to eggs, but I was a strange kid. So on March 2nd 2000 I had eggs for the first time and you know what? I like them. I've missed out on a lot of egg eating in my days and I'm hell bent on making up for lost time. Today I had two eggs. That's right folks, two. I hope I don't get sick of them. All this to setup this song: Eggs
Posted by Brooks at 10:50 PM
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Did I ever tell you guys about my expedition to Everest? Really? Well, here goes. About twenty years ago I was going out with this girl that was kinda hippy like, except that she shaved her legs. I mean, I'm a modern guy and all, but I can't handle furry legs on a chick. I'll be cool with a little growth when times are hectic and all, but I don't like waking up in the middle of the night thinking a guy climbed in bed with me. Scary! So, she was in this cult... uh, I mean club, that liked to hike and stuff. We used to go all over the High Sierras and look at trees and grass and dirt and stuff and it was cool, but she used to get a little cranky when we went camping because she would have to go for days without shaving her legs. Her stubble was the sharpest stubble I've ever felt and she would bitch and moan all night because her inner thighs were getting all sore from the tiny needles poking her all night. She couldn't even sleep with a sheet in between her legs because the stubble poked right through! Anyway, we were out one weekend checking out Sequoia National Park and the greatest idea in the world hit me like a logging truck. Tweezers! That's right folks, I would get out my magnifying glass and pull her legs hairs out one by one starting with the inner thighs and she was the happiest girl on earth. The end. Oh, wait, what was I going to talk about again?
Posted by Brooks at 8:11 PM
While Tupac Shakur was touring with Digital Underground (doowatchalike) back in the early 90's we happened to cross paths a number of times. At the time I was in a band called "Left Foot Right Foot", one of those wannabe grunge outfits with a lead singer straight out of rehab with a notebook full of heroin hazy lyrics and a sweet ass plaid jumper custom made for him by a local haberdashery. Anyway, I think it was like the summer of '92 and in some galactic weirdness we happened to play about 7 or 8 cities on the same nights they were in town and on 3 of those occasions we stayed in the SAME EXACT hotel. Needless to say I was a huge fan so I called up to their suites (they had a road group of up to 50 members) on the first night of the weirdness and commenced to smoke nearly an ounce of weed with Humpty Hump and the gang. After about an hour of drug induced conversations me and Pac understood we were like hetero soul/mind mates and so we delved into more esoteric discussion as he was well versed in modern philosophy after a stint at Berkley. He suggested that the universe was merely the squaring of a circle, a deceptively simple concept but powerful indeed. I was intrigued and we further developed his theory into the concept of the 2pacalypse, a dread reckoning of physics and combinatorial geometry that was set to set the academic world ablaze before an actual blaze started by an errant joint ash destroyed our carefully crafted masterpiece. As with most geniuses, Pac had many eccentricites and was quite superstitious. He took the burning of the document as a omen of bad tidings and went to his room for "supplies" like chicken blood and hair samples to dispell the evil. When he returned to the room he was painted from head to toe in a thick black substance which displayed a complex numerology system ending in an encircled "7" around his "third-eye". He started a rhythmic dance, thrusting his head and hips toward the pile of ash accompanied by a soft chanting. I was still higher than The Jew on the Cross™ but the way he was chanting struck a chord deep inside me and I had to stop him and let him know how badass whatever he was saying sounded and that he should make a record of him chanting like that. He ignored me because the curse was still so visceral to him but I guess that comment stuck in his mind because like a year later, his first album was release by Def Jam. I guess he didn't have the credibility to produce his vision on that first album, but things came together on 2pacalypse. The chanting, the dancing, the magic! It was all there and more! Produced by Phil Spectre, it was a stunning achievement of the "World Sound" that had been sweeping the U.S. since the mid-50's.
Posted by Horatio Plink at 1:05 PM
Right after the Civil War there was a huge influx of Australian Aborigines into Lower Manhattan. One of those intrepid 'Gines was my great great grandfather and he invented the cotten gin. That's right, fuck Eli Whitney, it was Bindooboo Bindibu who was the mastermind. See, at the time the govenment had placed an embargo against Indochina because of colonial pressures from the British Tea Company so the silk trade had virtually stopped. As a resident of NY's Silk District it came as a great blow to my ancestors as most of their grain was tied up in silk investments. So he tried to invent a new kind of silk from cotton, the only fiber not under control of the BTC. But in order to make the cotton smooth he had to invent the cotton gin first, as the seeds and chaff were not smooth. In the end, his new silk was a disaster and he tried to cut his losses by selling his silk making contraption to a young Eli who happened to be visiting relatives in Hell's Kitchen.
Posted by Horatio Plink at 11:56 AM
Once i was in a skiing accident, and I had to wear a full body cast for like 2 months, and there i was in teh hospital bed, when in walks a hobo and he wasn't like one of those nice friendly schizophrenic hoboes either, he was like one of the scary freaky possibly-on-meth hoboes that picks over dead bodies for change, and anyways, he was all like "i'm takin your jello, kid" and i was like "heck no man i need that jello for hydration" and he was like "hydrate this!" and then he gulped down all my jello and ran out of the room laughing. : (
Posted by K. H. at 2:05 AM
Monday, February 28, 2005
So get this, I took my car into the shop to get fixed and this guy looked at it and said that he thought something was jammed up in the exhaust pipe and that he'd have to get in there and see, so um, I sat down and watched through the glass window in the lobby as he got on the ground and crap and then this freakin huge furry head came outof the exhaust pipe and bit him on the shoulder and I was totally trippin and crap so I started screaming "THERE'S A BEAST THERE'S A BEAST!" and the lame ass 16 year old receptionist was like "Huh? What beach? Pshh, no way dude, I'm totally from San Diego and this is Las Vegas lady, there isn't no beaches here in the desert, mmmkay?" and I was so distracted by her grammatical errors that I just forgot about the monster-beast and got in my car and drove it home cuz it totally sounded fine since the monster was out of my exhaust and now running loose and shit.
Posted by Number Mouth at 7:51 PM
So, today I was riding my bike to work, when this bright orange pickup truck slows down and just stays right behind me. I could just see him out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't want to lose focus on the road so I didn't turn to look at him. I'm all "Go on!" waving my hands and shit like some crossing guard on crack, and he just kept there. Well, I was getting pissed so I just stopped. That fucker stopped right with me. Well, now I lose it and turn around ready to give him the hairy eyeball and just then noticed the hood on my orange sweatshirt. The end.
Posted by Brooks at 6:43 PM
Sunday, February 27, 2005
What a wonderful show we saw tonight folks. Let me start by telling you who the big winners were. For Best Actress in a Leading Role, the winner was Imelda Staunton for her performance in Vera Drake. I love it when they give it to the old lady. Next was Best Actor, won by Clint Eastwood for Million Dollar Baby (Go old people!). I mean, come on, did anyone else even have a chance against this legend? Last but certainly not least was Best Picture and after being completely shut out the entire night, it was quite a happy shock to see the movie Ray finally get it's due. Small movies like this deserve credit too folks. Wow! What a night. I do feel really sorry for Morgan Freeman though. Can't a brotha get a break in this town?!
Posted by Brooks at 10:46 PM
Saturday, February 26, 2005
I worked at this pizza place one time and the guy who managed it was this gross, greasy and nasty italian guy who was always trying to get in my pants. One time, he got me in the walk in freezer and told me he'd give me a week off with pay and $100 if I let him do me right there on the piles of mozzarella, when suddenly we heard a "quack!!!" which distracted him for a second so I could run past, and as I did I ran smack into a man carrying a duck, standing out in the waiting room chairs looking at the menu board. No shit.
Posted by Number Mouth at 9:33 PM
one time i was like walking through campus and the crazy rubber band man asked me for a dollar to buy coke and he meant like the cola but i thought he meant the good kind so i was like "COCAINE KILLED MY FATHER AND RAPED MY MOTHER" and he was like "holy mother maybe you should flick the rubber band, crazy lady" so i was like "aight" so he went to my class and i flicked the rubber band and rocked back and forth and hummed and people tossed money in my hat.
Posted by K. H. at 9:27 PM
Ooooo, this morning I went to the quick care with some awesome pains in my stomach and it was so fun and the circus came in and we played and I got calls from everyone who loves me with messages of support and love and I didn't even cry ONCE when the doctor told me what was going on in my body! Then I had a seance and called upon my dead grandmother who told me that she hid a million dollars in a silver bucket in the barn. Then I found the bucket and I bought myself a new Aston Martin and pretended to be a Bond girl for a minute and some guys on the strip saw me and told me I was hot in that car and I pulled my sunglasses down a tiny bit and said super sexily "yeah, well your mother smells like a goat hole" and they died.
Posted by Number Mouth at 5:08 PM
Friday, February 25, 2005
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
One time I was being chased by a wookie on rollerskates and I was running way fast and the wookie was skating faster and faster until it caught up with me then we fell to the ground and like, this guy walked by and thought we were humping and I was all "no freakin way dude" but then I was embarassed so I got up and punched the wookie right in his wookie nuts but then it was a girl so we laughed about it and went for cocoa.
Posted by Number Mouth at 10:34 PM