Ouch!!!

This is some of the craziest shit I have ever heard of, and coming from me that means a lot. Read this and return for discussion, or go cry in a corner clutching your balls while telling them to never leave you. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/merseyside/4253849.stm

Bitch is crazzzzy. Favorite parts of the story include, the friend picking up the testicle, placing it in his hand and saying, "This is yours." Who picks up a testicle and hands it back to someone? Was she like ripping it off that's fine, biting it, that's a no, no, I am going to give it back to him. You have had your fun for today my friend.

The fact that the testicle was placed in the mouth, then she was not able to get it down and so she spit it up on the ground. I can't fully grasp how one rips a testicle off through clothes barehanded. Did she rip it, as it fell down his pant's leg she snatched it up and threw it in her mouth? Or was it more of such an intense grab that it just straight ripped through his layers of cloth, creating a testicle bundled in undergarments, which she then unwrapped to feast on the tasty morsel within?

How was this guy able to not immediatley pass out. If I see my ball in someone's hand who was just standing there fighting me with me a second ago, I think I just faint. Not just the fact that she was holding one of your nuts in her kung fu style eagle death grip, but to then see said ball go into someone's mouth, on the ground and then have it placed back in your hand. I faint at the rip, I faint at the point it goes in her mouth, I faint when she spits it back on the ground, and I definitley hit the ground when that shit is placed in my hand. As far as I am concerned there are like seven moments within that story that I just hit the ground, just back of the hand over forehead, a slight gasp and I am down. I would have never seen her put that thing her mouth, I am down and out as soon as someone rips off one of my balls. Dude must have been in shock to make it to the point when that bloody testicle is placed back into his hand and the friend says, "This is yours." How can this shit be real. I don't get it.

Also the quote from her saying that she isn't violent. Oh suuuure I believe you, I would totally walk around with my balls hanging out in front of you. Non-violent people always rip people's nuts off and put them in their mouthes right? She is freaking insane, to avoid this scenario I am going back to the chastity belt. I took it off last year because it was starting to chaff, but desperate times call for desperate measures. There will be no ripping off of the balls on my watch.

Something more than rambling

Ok I feel bad here is something useful, some drawing blogs. Ok maybe they aren't useful but they are better than the shit spewing out of my mouth. I really like these guy's work. Dig the style, it's all great stuff. First off this guy ST Lewis, think his first name is Shane. Check his blog here http://stlewis.blogspot.com/

This is another blog that he is part of. They take a new theme each week and all do their own interpretation. It's how I foud him. Tons of great work and real creative people. http://toonclub.blogspot.com/

I found this site through this one which is the same concept, and a little better organzied. http://www.drawergeeks.com/

and this is the site of one of my favorites from both of those groups http://www.sarahmensinga.com/home.htm

Brain Exercise

I have a whole nother entry that I am leaving as private. Intrigued? Intrested? Immaculate? Whatever, the reason that it is private is because it is sappy and not even close to finished. Sappy takes a long time to mature. You can't just throw sappy down and it's done, it takes the right combination of soaring violins and slow motion running through the airport scenes. That and Meg Ryan, since I haven't cleared her apperance with her agent the project may not come to fruition. I am sure she will be alright with it though. The scene is very tasteful, she won't have to use real whale blubber we could find something like it, and the monkeys will never be in the same room as her. The cheetas on the other hand she will have to deal with. Just be a professional for god sakes, shouldn't it be for god's sake? I think it actually is but haven't you heard people say that?

Sooo this my idea of brain exercise. My brain is dying from lack of use. It's either that or my habit of sticking knitting needles up my nose. I guess the combination is the problem. Either way I just need to write, I apologize to anyone who feels the need to read this, there is never anything of any signifigance or usefullness here. It's kinda like you just stumbled into the psych ward and sat down with the mumbling guy in the corner. If I was you I would leave, let him fester in his crazy urine soaked room. Only after you poke him with a stick and tell him he smells though. It's only the nice thing to do. At least be civil.

So I say I will be writing more, but I still have no creative juices or topics planned, I know people don't want to read writing about having nothing to write about. But if you read anything I write it will make you slightly retarded. Run while you can. Run like a hamburger from that fat guy in the office, or like a graceful hippo towards a spring sale at Ross. I am going to have to figure something out, maybe create some adventures. Take suggestions, finally decapitate that mermaid so I will have something to talk about. Maybe just start posting up links that I find, pretend to be a blog. Does anyone want my recipe for mongoose wafers? Geez, I hope noone really reads this...

I am NOT the father!!

Why was my meeting at work today like an episode of Maury Povich? There was so much head rolling finger snapping ghetto attitude it was horrible. I just sat there thinking how unprofessional these people were. It was all too dramalicious. Made me think that I don't fit in here. Not because I have gills and webbed feet and would be more suited in an aquatic environment, because I have accepted that. It was more the fact that I don't think work should involve such petty bickering and personal wars that blow up in conference rooms.

Sure there was drama when I worked in the mall. But I worked in a woman's clothing store with teenage girls, and it was a mall. I am actually telling thr truth, I really did work at a women's clothing store in the mall. This is an office, we have computers and phones. It was a unit meeting, it was grown up time, not crying baby, ghetto attitude time. It wasn't a hoodrat puppet show, it was a meeting, with an agenda. This whole place is crazy. I showed up for work the first day in a suit and tie ready to get to work. What did I do instead? Nothing, I sat there for two weeks while they set up my email. I surfed the internet and had no idea what my job entailed. It was months before I realized that my job entailed doing nothing and surfing the internet. What am I doing here? I am the youngest person here, I don't realate to these people, is this where I want to be? It would be nice to have people I could relate to at work. Instead I sit in my bubble of solitude, eaves dropping on discussions about fried chicken and gossip. Avoiding drama and watching the clock tick. I would be much better suited in an aquatic enviornment.

Return Of The Mack

Ohh my god, returrrn of the Mack. You know what I am talking about. Maybe...anyway, how has everyone been? You get that infection taken care of? Hide the evidence and bury the bodies? I don't really care, it was more of rhetorical question. Seriously, stop talking I don't care.

So not much new has been going on in my neck of the woods. I am feeling kind of ambivalent about my career though. There just aren't very many oppurtunites for accordian playing gypsies these days. But the work will come as my unemployed father used to say in between sips of happy juice and just before shoving his face full of jellybeans. He loved those things, sometimes I think he loved them more than me. I thought he called me jellybean as a term of endearment, alas twas not the truth. Like an ex-baseball player calling his kid slugger, projecting his dreams upon the young infant's shoulders, my father's dreams of me becoming a jellybean that he could devour and never have to see again were apparent in the nickname he bestowed upon me.

But let's not dwell on the past. I have long forgoten my dreams of achieving such sugary perfection. My body a bean of jelly. The doctors say if I don't start exercising my dream may come to fruition. It's funny how once you abandon a dream and don't think about it, things start to take shape. If only pa could see me now, if only he could see his little tutti-frutti jellybean now...

I apologize for this post and for anyone that has read this. I will be refunding your wasted minutes once I get a chance to read all of the requests for returned time. Please be patient.

Budgie

I need a budget. Or in terms you would understand a budgie. I act like I am the queen of reindeerland with the coin I be dropping naw mean? Probably not but the rambletrain continues on it's intrepid adventure, stopping only briefly to smother itself in wasabi and throw flowers in the air.

So what I was talking about was a monetary budget. I can't keep living the life of a playboy millionaire, buying up all of these exotic game hens and playing $1,000 games of yahtzee with the folks at the retirement home. That is what millionaire playboys do right? I just live to free, I throw caution and exotic game hens to the wind. Live in the moment and don't plan for the future. Suuure I don't own a house, I shower in public areas, such as ponds and gas station bathrooms but that's not the point. The point is I should be saving more money, right now I just walk around like I am Mr. Moneyman, who incidentally looks a lot more like me, now that he shaved his moustache. I see something I like and I yell at anyone within ear shot to "wrap it up." They usually respond by saying sir, please put that lamp down, that is not for sale. "Anything is for sale, Ricardo, annnything" I say leaning closer. "My name is not Ricardo and you will have to leave before I call security." That's usually how that goes.

But in real life, I don't save as much as i should. I don't starve, I pay my bills, I just don't see any increase in my savings. It goes up and it goes down, always leveling out at the same place. I buy things I don't need, eat out too much and sponser several porteguese armadillo farms. That is actually a good investment, but the rest of the stuff is where the damage comes. Other people my age are thinking about houses and cherry red terradactyls that respond to voice commands and hand signals. I dream of material things like paintings and armorplating my body so iIcan run through walls and slide on my stomache and make sparks. Silly things, things that just aren't possible. The things that dreams are made of....

Amy Sol

Man I just love Amy Sol's work. It is just so haunting and it, just gives me chills. I want to buy a piece just so I can stare at it all day. These are from her latest show in new york at the Aidan Savoy Gallery. You can see the whole show at this link. http://www.aidansavoygallery.com/next.html

Am I wrong? Or does her stuff not rule.



Seriously, I know my excellent art critiquing skills and expository notes on its composition can be hard to follow, but just simply stating it. I dig her stuff.



This is one of my new favorites.

I smoke out with my cat all the time. What?? Like you don't.

I look like a pretty asian girl and stand with my cat like this all the time. Wait a minute, I lied. I don't have a cat. The first part remains steadfastly true. I stand resolute in my conviction. I'm surprised you didn't know that





So I just felt the need to share Amy Sol's genious.