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At 38, still it's happening

Sep. 2nd, 2014 | 12:39 am

Wow, this week. After all the heartbreak of the past 9 months I was going to tell you all about, and still will, I fell in love. She doesn't know it yet, and won't until I'm sure she feels similarly, but oh, oh, I can't even come close to expressing it.

Love. I can still feel it. I can still build on it. Love.

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Hi!

Jan. 25th, 2010 | 12:15 pm

I like to update once a year just to make sure the ol' update muscle is still working, but usually I try to sum up my life and it sounds all bitter and cynical because I suck at bragging about the good parts because I hate people who go around thinking their lives are more awesome than yours, usually while making overuse of the word awesome.

Karyna and I are convinced that theonion.com needs a front page item titled "Oh yeah!-- world totally just remembered they haven't updated their LJ in like, forever"

Edit: now that I'm logged in, I realize that I've already mentioned this. Almost exactly six months ago. Har.


To be honest, I miss when the internet was all about LiveJournal and people had time to read and care about strangers for more than 140 characters. My real-life facebook friends probably care way less about what I think or feel than some of the people I knew here for a time. Or maybe it's just (as put so eloquently by British sitcom Peep Show) "It's the 21st century...nobody likes anybody anymore." Touché British comedy, Touché.

I am still living in Austin and still working for the Chronicle which I still like and still freelancing on the side and still dating Karyna and still doing all the same things I was doing a year ago. Which sounds terribly boring when you relay it to other people, but when you enjoy doing those things and are really bad at surprises, it's actually quite pleasant.

Karyna actually got a job in Illinois for four months and is back now. This was probably the only significant event that happened last year, because I refuse to categorize "iPhone" as "event", even though I've replaced 90% of the crap around my house with a phone.

I spent most of 2009 caring more than was probably required about the website of an alt. weekly newspaper, playing video games and drinking my new favorite beer, Real Ale Full Moon Pale Rye, which is a mouthful to try and order at a bar, and I always screw it up resulting in hiiiiigh-lar-ity. I took a trip through Illinois and Michigan in November, made some new friends and met some old, started an online poetry publication that I'm not quite ready to promote, thought about starting a web comic that I still haven't gotten off the ground, recorded a bunch of ideas for a standup comedy act I will never think is good enough to perform, kept being reminded that I'm really not very good at playing musician and need to spend the next decade focusing on things I'm vaguely talented at, oh and, largely abandoned my enormously expensive dSLR that I bought in January for the phone camera I bought in October. Progress!

I discovered I can do a pretty good David Sedaris impression, and an okay Ira Glass impression, which means Karyna and I have a new game where I host an impromtu This American Life, the theme of which centers around whatever three random words Karyna gives me, is always a story of redemption as told by David Sedaris, and always ends with a loose moral tale that you can take to heart "this holiday season."

I was also going to make a list of things I liked about last year, but eh, let's not rush it. Maybe next year.

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Dream - Here come the Nazis.

Feb. 1st, 2009 | 06:01 am

The hospital is closing down for the day but I'm staying after hours because Geraldine tells me I *have* to see this movie. It's this German holocaust film that's like 20 hours long and it's the sort of thing you really have to watch in one sitting. If anyone knows I'm here though they'll totally have her ass, so I shouldn't go towards Radiology in the A-wing, since the guards are at the check-in area there.

 

What's strange is about an hour before everyone leaves, the patients gradually start to get better and leave with them, completely healthy. Some of them laugh and ditch their crutches in the middle of the floor. This one guy rips out his Trach and starts singing Gounad's "O merveille! ... A moi les plaisirs" and strutting out the door. Geraldine looks at me and shrugs as if to say eh, it's a living. She tosses me the keys points to the vending machine and the bathroom and takes off.

 

By now the whole hospital is totally empty, so I head into the AV room and fire up the projector. While the credits are going I grab some Doritos and a Mountain Dew and get settled in for a long night of Nazis and torture. Except the Mountain Dew wears off after like an hour, so I hit pause and walk around the office to shake off the sleepy. It's really more of an office building than a hospital. One room even has what looks like a classroom with blackboards in it and arts and crafts along the wall.

 

When I get back to the main room I realize the movie somehow un-paused and the Germans are invading, Literally. I forgot to set the projector switch to “non-lifelike”, so it's actually created a German brigade right here in the room. Instead of invading Poland though, they're just invading the room, tile by tile,while Allied forces duck behind conference tables to try and hold them off.

I realize that eventually they're going to notice me at the back of the room and hide under a table, hoping the Allies will prevail. For what seems like hours, it's a battle of attrition, but eventually the Nazis are pretty close to me, so I duck out the door into the main hall.

 

A woman passes me in a lab coat and I realize it must be morning because there's people here and all my teeth and hair fall out again. I ask her what time it is and find out it's already 11 in the morning. I find Geraldine and the rest of the orderlies to warn them the Nazis have pretty much totaled the AV room, and by the time I get them back there there's a small fire where the projection screen was, half the floor is made of lava and there's no Nazis to be seen anywhere. The janitor's trying to mop up the fire and I ask him what happened.

Oh, you haven't seen the end before? He fills me in. Apparently in Act 13 Ann Frank's father comes out and starts yelling the word “Murder!” in the Nazi captain's face exactly 617 times, after which –depending on your settings – the screen either shows an explosion or literally explodes.

I figure hell with it since I've got a chemo appointment in an hour, and get to work trying to have sex with Geraldine. But she keeps walking all over the lava when I try to lay her down on the rocky tile and her feet are melting away. There's also some kind of irradiated blue sludge where the projector used to be that's oozing down the wall. But suddenly I'm healed again and we're actually characters in a movie someone is watching in a hospital with the settings switched to lifelike. It's some kind of fantasy adventure movie and we're in a field with several other adventurers and a pair of enchanted talking animals. We have to find a woman known as“MasqueraLips.”

 

I'm told MasqueraLips often breaks the fourth wall and will be talking directly to me, the person dreaming this whole thing, while me, the person staring in it won't be able to understand a word she's saying. It's true, we get to MasqueraLips' lair and she's this nasty middle-aged woman with caked on lipstick, way too much masquera and a huge vag-bulge. As she starts talking, she makes a direct appeal to the camera that I murder a man called Alistair Knickleberry with a particular enchanted sword. Adventurer me doesn't understand a word of it but takes the sword, and I use my dream powers to direct him, which he understands as simply “following his heart” or something. He just knows what he's supposed to do, but can't explain it, while dreamer-me controls him like a video game character.

We get to Alistair and it's way too easy. We do a meet-and-greet with him and a few of his friends, walk down the stairs of the stone tower he lives in, and I make adventure-me take him out right after the rest of the entourage leaves ahead of us. He screams, but everyone just assumes that's him dying of natural causes. This movie lacks tension I think and wake up looking at the cats licking each other's foreheads.

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After today...

Nov. 4th, 2008 | 09:57 am

The media gets one week to shake all the "historic" out of their system.

They get a full seven days to talk about whoever wins, and how historic their candidacy is and how this crucial election is a piece of history that the world has eagerly followed with baited breath, give us endless recaps of the election.

Seven days for the "how they pulled it off" pundits to once again ease back into the familiar smugness of knowing how one wins an election, etc.

Seven days to talk about the tough challenges ahead for President Elect.

Seven days to ruminate on weird shit and assassination conspiracy fears.


And after that I want my old news back.

I want to wonder things like "Vitamin-B: the silent killer?"

I want to know if Britney Spears is fat or in jail or making a comeback or insane or all of the above.

I want seven tips for child-proofing my storm drains.

I want to hear about average lowly house representatives having scandalous affairs with 19-yr old mannequins in the Woolworths.

I want "Surprise! Santa Clause(sic) is in our NBC studios today!"

I want Matt Lauer to ask him the tough, hard journalism questions like "are you ready for Christmas this year?"

I want holiday shopping tips and advice on cooking the perfect turkey.

I want horribly revisionist shit about people in feathered headdresses sharing popcorn with Jesus freaks in stovepipe hats.

I want speciously hyperbolic articles about studies already dismissed in Scientific American "proving" global warming is caused by monkeys.

I want everyone paranoid it's the End of Days while Ashton Kutcher drops his ball like egg drop soup over the whole thing come 2009.

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meet Perry Logan

Oct. 10th, 2008 | 03:27 pm

I was waiting for some coffee to brew and turned on the TV, which was tuned to Austin public access, featuring this guy:






I'm guessing he's well known in Austin, since he's apparently been making these for years.

It's not even that his opinions are terribly strange --plenty of mentally stable individuals share most of the views I've seen him express-- it's more that the delivery is so batshit insane. It's like watching an older Bill Nye overdose on acid until he regresses to an 8 year old who has to go to the bathroom really bad.


I couldn't really deal with watching them all to give you the highlights. If anyone actually manages, by all means, post faves.


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Puppy Can't Breathe - Facebook

Oct. 2nd, 2008 | 11:53 am

A few days ago, a friend of mine who I haven't heard from in about eight years added me on facebook, and I was face-mailing (?) him about all the random stuff we would have probably chatted about had we been in touch between 2001 - 2008.

And then I decided it'd make a good song for my joke project Puppy Can't Breathe.

In order to make sure it doesn't interfere with Nymphomania though, the rule is I have to write and record all of it drunk or hungover, in one take. This is hungover:

download
or stream that shizit!


lyrics and tab:


G                Am                   F                      G
Airports go from being  ...somewhat unsavory.... to now resembling

G                           Am                           F
some,thing, closer, to waterboarding....the pause that refreshens Jonathan

G                                                  Am                              F                        G
Kerry...& paris, paris hilton, paris hilton eats a hamburger.... paris hilton then goes to prison....brangelina [x2]


riding round on the segway, segway, wearing speed dating body spray.....while geocaching larry


craig... & paris, paris hilton, paris hilton eats a hamburger.... paris hilton then goes to prison....brangelina



Dm                     Cg
Mel Gibson, calls some cop

sweet tits and blames the jews

for starting all the wars, hannah montana
     Dm                             Cg               E
is a famous girl who plays a famous girl who plays a regular girl


G                  Am                     F                       G        
All your base, are belong to us...on the xbox 360...the ringtone 2.0


Apple, introduces, an expensive walkman
The Lord of the Red Bull
Amerithrax Suduko


& paris, paris hilton, paris hilton eats a hamburger.... paris hilton then goes to prison....brangelina [x2]


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Cats! The non-musical.

Sep. 13th, 2008 | 05:10 pm

Recently I took the time to re-organize and tag my massive, 90gb photo collection. Going through it though, I realized how many stupid fucking pictures I have of cats.

So, I decided I didn't really need 543859430 photos of cats littered about in my photo collection, so I removed all of them, stuck them in their own folder, and deleted anything that was just a random test of a new lens or blurry, etc.

Once paired down, it dawned on me how completely ridiculous the whole thing looked, so....

Click here to browse the top 50-someodd stupid, disgustingly cute, hilarious or just downright awkward things Karyna's cats have done between 2007 and 2008.

(By the way, rather than clicking each thumbnail or the "next" linkl, you can click on the right-hand-side of each image to get to the next, or just use the left and right arrow keys on your keyboard.)

My favorite hands-down has to be the one where they're teabagging:





and a runner-up...



Good grief.

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Nymphomania Collage - I Have Never Been Inside.

Sep. 12th, 2008 | 07:23 pm




this is for track seven.

Karyna thought I was pulling stuff from google image search. I should stress that everything is from personal childhood photos or physical found objects.

This one was insanely simple / minimalist, so I figured I'd share the three source images. Check 'em out below the cutCollapse )

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New Nymphomania Collage - Look Kid, Just Shut Up

Sep. 9th, 2008 | 05:07 pm

I finally started making some headway on all the collages for the first CDs booklet. This is for the first page/song:

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Dream-- Interdimentional Infidelity, or David Bowie and Supergirl Just Want to Go Shopping

Sep. 5th, 2008 | 10:42 am

The continents are all on there way to reforming Pangaea, so Karyna and I decide to go on a vacation and visit some old friends while the governments and economists figure out what the hell to do. New Canada's been redrawn as this sort of Alaskan-sized land-mass surrounded by New United States, so we drive through six New New England states and several New Provinces before we reach our destination four days later.

New Canada also rests on an inter-dimensional portal however, so there's this giant sea from another dimension, and it crashes onto this beautiful shoreline. I've had dreams about it before: the dunes rise up only 30 feet back in what looks like a giant sand dike. On the other side of it, facing the hotel strip, is lush green grass, which is where our dimension begins, because our half of the hill is topsoil instead of sand.

Our friends live in these resort cabins down the road. It's weird because I know one or two of them, but most of them are Karyna's friends, and I can't figure out how they all started living together.

Scottie, this nerdy blonde British kid with buck- teeth, is sort of the leader of the friend circle, but it makes no sense because his identical twin brother is the outcast, and they both look exactly the same. There's also some other girl visiting, she's this kind of chubby acne-riddled redhead from West Virginia. One of the other girls tells Karyna and I that Scottie's been totally trying to get with her like all week, cause apparently she puts out easy and it's like sooo annoying, but you can tell she's just jealous he's not hitting on her anymore.

Scottie says he likes my jacket, and asks if he can borrow it for the show they're doing tonight. Apparently there's some square dancing festival down the street later, but his punk band is playing in the second act. He puts it on and it instantly gets all dusty and faded looking, which is kind of cool I guess, but he keeps doing these obnoxious squinty-eyed looks where he sucks his cheekbones in like he's Luke Perry or something.

The show opens with this not-entirely-horrible country band.Collapse )

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