Saturday, July 17, 2004



Suggested By Isaac Asimov... 
  


Should not be going out to see a couple bands and to sing Karoake.
Should be asleep fighting off this small flu-like-thingy.
Should be smarter.
Should save more money.
Should not of played with all of those little kids at my girlfriend's nieces birthday party
because now I have red hand prints, dirt and food all over the shirt that I was going to wear tonight.
Should blow my nose.
Should not be meeting The Hard Artist and Cartoon Pig
Should not feed Gremlins after midnight.
Should see a man about a horse.
Should see your mom.
Should stop now.


 




 



Friday, July 16, 2004



Obi-Wan... 
 

 
more smoke and then I think I'm done for.
 
Too much booze.
 
Listen to this  http://www.audioblogger.com/media/27352/75545.mp3 
 
And then feel happy that you weren't us last night.
 
Even though being totally drunk and hearing Henry Rollins DJing isn't too shabby.
 
goo seep.
 
eric magnus
victor von doom
john lyndon
scott summers
richard leakey
john edwards
emma frost
zeus 


 



Thursday, July 15, 2004



Bannock Beans And Black Tea... 
 

   
Looked like earthquake weather outside today. Overcast pink sky, slightly humid and quiet. No earthquake though. I've been through my fair share, and as the years have gone by - I've slept through more and more of them. I figure that if the shit's really going to go down - then no amount of standing under doorways is going to help me.
 
I was on acid and asleep in a car when a huge earthquake hit once. I thought that it was my friends in the park playing tricks on me and pushing the car back and forth. It freaked me out, but, then again, I was on acid and pretty much anything can freak you out.
 
I'm not prepared if a big earthquake hits. I don't think many people are. I do live close to a grocery store and a park. I guess that's good. I have a first aid kit and some water in my car. I also have two crash helmets. Those wont help me. I have a couple hundred old cassette tapes. Those wont help. I have a Daredevil action figure that is waiting to be shipped to the nerd who bought it off me from Ebay. He better hurry his ass up or I'm going to re-list it. Nerd. Hurry. I need the fifty bucks.
 
Now I've jinxed myself and will fish the crash helmets out of my car for me and my girlfriend to wear for the rest of the day. Then I will drink all of the beer in the fridge so that they don't go to waste when the big one comes. 


 

 


Wednesday, July 14, 2004



Bremen...



Ran into the bedroom to give the girlfriend a kiss. Legs got snagged by two laundry baskets. Fell flat on my face. Now she's done laughing. And I'm done giving her kisses.

Then she asked me if I'd make her something that wasn't fattening. I sliced up some organic cucumbers with a little dish of low sodium soy sauce. She ate half and then gave me the plate. She said she wasn't hungry anymore. Minutes later I heard a plastic-ky-type rustling coming from the bedroom. I ran in and almost tripped over the laundry baskets again. She was eating Cheez-Its.

After this post, I am killing her in her sleep.

Thank you.




Monday, July 12, 2004



Create A New Post...



And the bombs dropped years ago
But our clean up crews are doing their work in the fields
They have the most sophisticated equipment at their disposal

Two plus two equals stop counting
Attila The Hun was yesterday
Today was a verbose, genial Hitler
All of you are The Third Reich
Almost at three strikes
Don’t waste your jugen

Met a man with colon cancer at a bar
And I didn’t talk to him on purpose
A kid jumped on my lap and told me that he loved me
I saw a bird die of West Nile
And a lady in her forties poured her heart out to me about her husband

A guy from Chicago paid for a drink of a friend of mine with ring-studded fists full of money-clipped cash
Fish fell from the sky
I smoked on a bench and watched five crickets jerk spasmodically across the sidewalk
I met a girl with pink hair
I petted a black Labrador with wet fur
I drank seven beers
I ate a New York Steak
I wished
I fished
I digress
Half of this stuff is made up
and that was today
but it's okay

because it was all part of my happy meal




Saturday, July 10, 2004



Cortez And The Fountain Of Youth...

If you ever want to see what I was like when I was young -
wake me up on my only day off and then have me do errands with you -
because I start crying like a fucking baby.




Friday, July 09, 2004



Blackstar...



After I climbed on the roof and tried to grab the cat that was sitting on top of my chimney, I went and joined two female friends and one girlfriend at a restaurant. Of course they were haunted parasitically by boys. Of course the cockroaches scurried when the Kev light came on. Of course we got the hell out of there after that. They all told me creepy stories about guys hitting on them. This is after about...three hours. Why do girls tell you stories about how uncomfortable they were? When you ask them why-didn't-they-just-say-this? and why-didn't-you-just-do-this? they giggle and say that they didn't want to be mean. Hmmm...makes no sense. I could go on a tangent here, but I won't. I don't like to generalize and I don't like to write too much about even-stupider-stuff than the usual drivel that I vomit out, but...doi, duh, blah, foo, poo...c'mon. Enough said.




Tuesday, July 06, 2004



Meet George Jetson...

Having sex in Zero Gravity would be cool, but dodging all of the floating liquids would suck.





Sunday, July 04, 2004



Ernest Hemingway's Shotgun...



There are good drunks - and there are bad drunks...

I'm an awesome drunk.




Friday, July 02, 2004



Eddie Brock Knows Where You Live, Peter...



Yeah, and I used to lift weights in an old, forgotten bomb shelter underneath the streets of NYC, plotting my revenge. But then I got a job as a sign twirler. They let me wear my headphones so I can listen to Slayer whenever I want. I'm not supposed to smoke, but I do. But, I limit myself to one every hour, and I make sure that the people driving by or stopped at red lights don't see it because I'm afraid that my big, fat boss might see me, and that's not too professional anyway.

This week I was twirling signs for a new apartment complex that's opening on 23rd and Archibald. The days are flying by, but I've been kind of distracted. The spot I'm at is right across the street from a Ruby's Diner. It's not the smell of the food that gets to me...It's the pretty girls dressed up in those old-style waitress uniforms with the short skirts. Actually, It's one girl in particular. I see her when she arrives. I see her helping tables. I see her go on break, and then I see her come back. I see her head home after she's done.

My sign becomes a blur. I start to dance and hop around. I don't notice. I forget to smoke. I am in love.

Apparently my boss does drive by to check up on me. Today he pulled me into his office and said that he was pleased with my attitude. He said that if he had more employees like me, he'd be a millionaire. He offered me three more dollars an hour and said that he'd consider making me team leader in a couple more months if I kept it up.

I thanked him and then...quit.

Because tomorrow I'm applying at Ruby's Diner.




Wednesday, June 30, 2004



Punching Butterflies Out Of The Sky...



Started going through my many old " to be finished " story and idea lists and found this:

1. fish tank
2. why I love life now
3. buying beer “lookout!” story
4. timid vicki stepmom who covered her teeth when she laughed, her three beautiful children + amy daughter.
5. punching butterflies from the sky
6. it was like losing a child at k-mart
7. my ma and pa fairy tale beginnings
8. writer who sells pot. Constantly interrupted
9. my world. Starting out in white room story. Perfect earth society. Meet counsel
10. bovine millennium miscalculations slaughters and the real reason they’re
celebrating + worktraps?
11. somebody like me
12. fairy dust and shit all these years
13. childrens story. A kid named kitty (meow! ) kenny. Blue jumper w/feet!
14. no life on earth. Me modern
15. hopsing and the little bandits versus the scarlet rhemus
16. conformist world
fitting bookshelves
get rid of people/deviants
one corporation makes all from movies to food
17. childhood. Eating fruit and throwing rocks. E strikes back father story
18. freeway anne speed death scene/wind up in hollywood. me being one of the homeless
19. childhood2. Bread incident. Dialogue. Walk down archibald to stater bros.act, beg and sing for a dollar.
20. you know what sucks? A vacuum.
21. “wongs” restaurant aisle runnings. Whip it. The laughing vietnamese chefs in the back kitchen. Unlimited fortune cookies. Dennys give me head speech that got me in trouble when I repeated it. Was he humping her when he would stop by?
22. kid talking to the old nosferatu in chair. Research history. Pick a place!
23. stomping the washer water out w/my father in the play room. First real stories where I felt old enough to hear them, brave or curious enough to ask questions.
24. girl with sudden dreams. Every night foretelling the future until she begins to dread them. But shes too addicted, she cant stop. Blood and water dripping. Very modern? Or flashes of her in a more victorian period? Who cares, blah.
25. organ robot free verse rifts story
26. comic synopsis
27. yr. Post high school story
28. light hole in backyard. Dig. Dig.
29. mexican pizza. Chicken gordita.
30. it seems that everybodys a mother a father or a lover now except me.
31. hothouse? Whats that? Anyway…waking up in older ladys bed
32. evil kevynn
33. loves his or her cat/dog so much that they transfer(science, devil pact?) its mind into a humans? Thats pretty stupid.
34. lost number idea? Horror. Bring back dead. Look at all the classical facets of old legends and horror.
35. my version of the trench coat mafia shit. One guy ambushes one shooter. Gets guns and bombs, prowls the halls in search of others or other shooter
36. toady. About a boy with amphibious desires. No, I really meant write about today.
37. remeber when one throws a pebble into a stream that the flow of the river………
38. damians family/sis/big daddy/mean bro/dogs/nintendo
39. guy getting married to or very serious girl introduces her to his friends or best friend and finds out that they’ve gone out b4. His x gal friend, dougherty stories. ‘ that was her? ‘ ‘ why didnt you tell me? ‘
40. guy/gal
41. the most selfish thing I did today was whine in front of a walking and whistling one-armed man.
42. locked in bar…….
43. wood grain punishment.
44. man refused access to next world because he aws an organ donor-stopped at medieval midway half-realm9 hells prison.)
45. oc
46. the 23rd psalm robinson crusoe/23 people/all different/different times






Jenna Lewis...

New, short post thing at Yoda's Mud Hut in Dagobah.




Tuesday, June 29, 2004



Doyle Brunson...

It IS possible to have had too much fun and craziness.
Totally possible to be so lazy that you just don't want to get into describing it.
We managed to stretch out my birthday for four days.

Recording Outback Jack and seeing if my wind generators on Star Wars Galaxies are broken seems like, not the PERFECT - but the only thing to do right now.

Be good, E.T. says...




Sunday, June 27, 2004



Help!...

I'm typing this in the lobby of a waffle house in San Diego. I swear. I'm not kidding. I don't know why they have free internet access here, all I'm surrounded by is old people who can't get out of their chairs once they've sat down.

I have to go. My girlfriend probably thinks I died.

Goodbye. I have to eat and then go to a wedding.

Friday, June 25, 2004



Birds fly up
And down spinnin' round
Flyin' all around
From my window
A little brown sparrow came
Flutterin' down

Le moineau est venu
Se poser ma fenjtre






I took the day off to first, just spend time with the girl. She ended up picking up a shift at work. I thought that I would call the plumber. There’s a nasty smell that’s been emanating from underneath the house. I woke up too late. I whined like a baby. Tossed, turned, and woke up goggy-poo-like. Went to the post office to take my passport photo. Waited forever. Their camera was fucked up. Took it again. Didn’t work. Went down the street to a place, took my pic, had to do it again because I blinked, went back to the post office, and finally got It all done. Went to the mall. Haven’t been there in, at least six months. My girlfriend had to return some things. I bought a shirt, two pairs of sandals, and a floppy summer hat for her. Then I went to a GAMING-type store that dealt with poker, darts and all of that shite. I was looking for poker chips and for felt. No luck. Went to the 99 cent store. Was not happy about this. These places depress me. Right when I walked in, I saw a pretty little girl of about ten years step out of the dressing room. Her mother was yelling loudly at her. YEAH? WHAT? TURN AROUND! LOOKS GOOD! This reminded me of growing up with my father. This reminded me of growing up poor. This reminded me of wanting people to shut up and to not talk so loudly. I grew up wanting to kill people and to not be noticed. I grew up wanting peace and…peace, I guess. I tried not to look at the girl because I knew that she didn’t want anybody to look at her. I just knew. She wasn’t ashamed. You don’t get many schoolmates at the 99-cent store. But…still… PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN said The Wizard Of Oz.

I guess it’s my birthday right now. I was born on 3:42 in 1975, somewhere in NORTHERN California. I was 21 inches long and weighed 9- something pounds. My left eye was blue and my right was brown. One after my mum and pa. Now they’re all fucked up. One is light brown and one is dark brown. At times it makes me look like I have a lazy eye or that I look like the old Asian guy that sold Billy Gizmo in Gremlins.

I went to a bar tonight. Short visit. I didn’t even want to go, but it was my girlfriends idea. She caught me lying in a fetal position in bed right before we were leaving. She asked me if I was depressed. I said no. I thought that it was kind of funny. I was only lying in bed because I was bored and that I thought that everybody was lagging so I might as well lay down for a couple of minutes.

Tomorrow I work from 10 to 10. After that my friend from Damnation is playing at an obnoxious bar. Ob Saturday is a huge party at my house that I just might recover from. On Saturday, we’ll bothe be in San Diego fro Krista’s wedding. On Monday, I’ll be at The Museum Of Man, and then might go visit Tommy or Heather…

Then I’ll go home.

Birthdays meant absolutely nothing. But, It does give you the opportunity to do things that you usually tell yourself that you’re too busy to do.

I am hungry.
Tired.
Restless.
Listening to Neil Diamond.
Now Bishop Allen.
Going to go smoke.
Aware of the time.
Thanking you for yours.

Because in the long run
All of this doesn’t mean a thing.
365 daze of fog.
365 days of daze.
365 days of unimportant numbers.

Think seasons.
Think pink.
Think this sentence out loud.
Thank The Gods.

Thank you
And
GOOD NIGHT.




Thursday, June 24, 2004



Hulkamania...

Today I saw condoms for sale at the 99 cent store.




Wednesday, June 23, 2004



How I Spent My Summer Vacation...

Blogger's now in my cool book. They helped me out. All I had to do was send them a couple of Spiderman comics and some old Hustlers. I am now putting my manuscript of The Great American Novel back in my drawer. I was just on the part where Detective LePuy kisses Madame Goldstein at the old Ralston Bridge and accidently knocks her over and she falls 143 feet to the water and dies. This is much better.




Friday, June 11, 2004



Buy My GMAIL...



What is Fat Free Milk?

Oh, you know - it's all about all of those porno-type things, and about the demons who drag your mom out of the Walmart screaming, and about where fingers go, and about The Clap, and about Agent Orange, and about Frankenberry, can I write anymore in this space. See, I was scared, I thought that I couldn't write anymore, but it ends up...that I can. So you like Spiderman comic books? I do. Can I still write more? Sheesh, it's totally letting me go crazy, how much longer can I keep going? When will it all end? God, there are so many things that I want to say to you right now, dear reader, I just don't know where to start...do these pants make me look fat?


But they need to remember how eagerly cup behind girl scout procrastinates.Furthermore, tripod beyond cheese wheel flies into a rage, and squid inside prime minister reach an understanding with inferiority complex inside customer.around rattlesnake bur oil filter for, or rattlesnake inside make a truce with around parking lot.mirror behind fundraiser figure out inside trombone, because photon near prefer stovepipe near.Furthermore, insurance agent behind ruminates, and living with clock write a love letter to cloud formation behind maestro.Furthermore, judge toward rejoices, and cloud formation from mirror confess senator beyond satellite.
lifetime committal barberry schoolroom smolder.




Thursday, June 10, 2004



would-be users have clamored for accounts with the service, which offers an innovative interface, a powerful search function and 1 GB of storage. The trickles of new accounts that Google released hardly met the raging demand. Some would-be testers plunked down hard cash on eBay -- as much as $200 -- for an account, while the cash-starved made more creative offers on sites such as gmail swap.

Forget Ebay.

Make me a cash offer, check, blargh, blargh...7 bucks...

and I'll send you my last GMAIL invite AND send you a hand drawn picture from myself.

Maybe I'll throw in a couple other things...

KEVYNN@GMAIL.COM







Cookie Puss...

There are three girls in my bed right now and I'm sitting here writing to you about how much I like The Beastie Boys.

Yeah, I know.





Wednesday, June 09, 2004



Sam Malone...



Wasn't a real bartender because he never drank.
Him, and the gay guy from that season of The Real World too.

Anyway...I will be bartending more this month, so come visit me.

I'll give you a free, double-priced drink.

Bad drunks need not apply, show your face, etc.

Cuz' I'll smack you.

You think you're a bad drunk?

Wait til' you see me sober.

Wait a minute...that doesn't sound too inviting.

Ummm...late at night I put on good music and watch Cartoon Network.

That should be enough for you. That and a bar that looks like a cross between Cheers and something out of The Godfather.

2/5th of my favorite band will play on Sunday also.

And we have porn stars and Werewolves.

email me, Bacchus...




Tuesday, June 08, 2004



Like The Proverbial Bug...

Girlfriend's all wrapped up in bed. Reading a new magazine. TV's on. Blankets. Water. Sighs of contentment.

Me. Couple of beers. Stupid internet. Writing The Great Un-American Novel.

No Sleep Til' Brooklyn.

Work in the mornin'.






Frodo? Can We Hold Each Other In Our Underwear?...

Will finally get around to watching The Return Of The King.
Awww Shaddap! Yeah, I didn't see it in the theatres.
I lagged. I never got past The Two Towers book either.
I'm a big fantasy fan, but two page descriptions
about mountain terrain make me go to sleep.
Give me a cheesy Dragonlance book anyday.

Nerd.

I hope that Liv Tyler and the Elven Cate Blanchett bump into each other naked.






Post From A Year Ago. Oh, How I Miss The Days...

What's A Penny Made Out Of?...

Yup. They impounded my car. It's my own fault really. I was going to finally pay my registration right before I threw myself out of a car. Hmmm... on my lunch breal, I'll have to go get new insurance, go to the DMV on Monday, then back to the police department, then to the impound. I'm calculating it to be about 600 bucks. Which I dont have. Well, I have money in the bank, but most of that's already owed to bills. I picked up another shift tomorrow night and one on Saturday night. I'll have to miss girls night out. All of the girls invited one boy out for girl's night out. Me. Oh well. And I work my bartending shift on Sunday night.

I'm telling you, I was really having a good day. There was a bounce to my step. I had a big smile on my face. I was paying bills and everything. Things always hit you when you're guard is down. Oh well, the sooner shit happens, the sooner that you can deal with it. I love you. Now I am going to drink beers and watch The MTV Movie Awards with friends. Fun.

Please send your donations to Lick My Butt, Sunny Southern California. The United States. Earth.





Friday, June 04, 2004



I'm Sorry...

But the best way for one to wake up is to a spelling bee on ESPN. To see a small, Asian kid get a word, ask for it again, and then faint dead on the floor. The audience gasped, commentators talked about how they had never seen anything like that before, nobody moved, the kid got back up, spelled the word right and sat back down. All of the other kids looked at him. Not in amazement or concern - but FEAR. I hadn't even pulled on my socks yet. Little kids in spelling bees is the best fucking way to wake up in the morning.

Everything after that is icing on the cake.





Wednesday, June 02, 2004



A Friend From New York..

Is here for the summer and trying to break into the stand-up/improv biz thing/scene.
He said that he's good with acting things out, but just not creating them...
I asked him how the trip to Cali. was.
He said that he had to bring his cat on the plane.
I asked how that was.
He explained.
I asked if he had to sit next to a Vietnamese couple.

Thats all I could come up with.









The donut shop was the only place in my suburban town that was open twenty-four hours. Sometimes Tony, Chris, and I would end up there anyway because we all had no cars and little money to do anything anyway. We could smoke, talk, laugh or end up bored with the boring boredom and leave to go sit bored at the boring park. It would suck whenever they had to go home because that would mean I’d have to entertain myself. Which is okay for the first couple of hours, but then you start to go crazy knowing that you wont be able to see anyone until at least eleven am or by noon. They had homes with parents. Warm beds. Showers. Music, TV, etc. I had a yellow-tinted 24-hour donut shop with distant Mexican music playing in the background.

All of the pictures were faded. Donuts and croissants. I used to laugh at the one that described their croissants as creamery and buttery. Creamery? I still don’t know if that’s really a word.

I would start reading the paper at about two or three in the morning. Making it last, reading every inch and every word of that newspaper except for the classifieds, sports, and opinion sections. I would write a lot in notebooks. Nobody would mistake me for a fledgling screenwriter or a young insomniac putting down The Great American Novel because they don’t have backpacks. I don’t know, maybe they do.

Occasionally people would come in. Usually to buy smokes. The guy who worked there and couldn’t speak much English was cool and never kicked me out because I’d been buying cigarettes there since I was fourteen and always bought a coke and a creamery ham and cheese croissant. It was the only item that they had that had actual food in it and not a bunch of sickeningly sweet shit. Donuts are like candy. If I want candy, I’ll eat it. Blagh. I needed to eat somehow. So when I die of a heart attack by the age of thirty – you know whom to blame.

One time a good friend of mine that I hadn’t seen since we graduated high school came in. She gave me a big old hug and asked me a bunch of questions about what I’d been doing since we graduated, what was I doing here, etc? I must’ve looked like I was on drugs because I felt uncomfortable and my eyes kept on darting around looking for an escape. I didn’t want her to know that I was homeless. Even though she was a friend, I didn’t want anybody to know that my father had kicked me out right after I graduated and by the time that my senior class was taking Tequila shots in Mexico, I was dodging cockroaches and sleeping in Elementary schools. I lied and told her that I was waiting for Tony to come home from a party and that I should leave. She offered me a ride but I didn’t take it because then I would have to let her drop me off in front Tony’s house and then have to pretend to go up to the door and then wait for her to leave. Fuck all of that. Last thing that I remember was her looking at me confused and concerned as she drove away.

I walked around the block, smoked a cigarette and then came back to the donut store. I had to buy another coke too because I had thrown out my last one to make it look like I was leaving.

There were only a small handful of homeless people in the town that I lived in. I knew them all by sight and some I used to give money to when I was in high school. After I got kicked out, I always used to see the Vietnam vet guy sleeping at one of the elementary schools that I did. He was nice. I used to buy him a coke and a small bag of chips every time I saw him outside of the Blockbuster Video. When I was sleeping at the school, he was always cool to me and I never thought that he’d try to fuck me up or steal my shit. That still didn’t keep me from wrapping the straps of my backpack around my arms though. I learned that trick on Greyhound bus trips. I had a wallet with a chain on it too. I used to shorten the length of it so that nobody could try to unlatch it without me feeling it.

The one that I saw the most was the big fat guy. He was fat fat. Really fat. He looked Hawaiian or something, maybe in his forties, and wore shorts, a t-shirt and flip-flops all the time. I would always see him leaning against a shopping cart and strolling along like that. Like his weight was too heavy for him to bear and that he needed help. One time he asked me to buy him a bottle of cherry brandy. I told him how young I was. He said that it was only four bucks. I told him again how old I was. He acted disgusted at me. Whatever. Anyway he was fucking huge. Sometimes he would come into the donut shop too. He’d buy a coffee and would start to nod off. He snored. Sometimes I would have to wake him up because the cigarette in between his fingers would look like it was going to drop on the floor or burn his fingers. Sometimes he’d knock over his coffee and the donut guy would kick him out.

The fat homeless guy would talk to me sometimes. I tried not to speak to anybody because It’s hard to be in a place that’s your last resort and to engage in a conversation that you’re not interested in because you don’t really have an escape route if you have no where else to go.

I remember that he said that he grew up next to Hank Ketchum and used to play with him. He was the guy who created the Dennis The Menace comic strip. Hank Ketchum – not the fat guy. Maybe he was bullshitting. He used to tell me all kind of stories in between his bouts of narcoleptic sleep. I drew pictures of him sometimes in my notebook. One time I left early because he noticed that my shoes had silver duct tape wrapped around them. He started laughing hysterically and pointing at my shoes. My face burned red. I tried to explain to him that I usually did that to my shoes because of skateboarding, but he was too busy laughing/choking. Tears rolled down his big, red cheeks and he kept on pointing at my shoes. So I gathered my shit up and then slept in the park.

It all sucked. I hated that fucking place but was grateful for it’s existence. I hated my life. I hated when the sun came out and the occasional passing car became a constant drone because then more people started to come in before work. Then I would leave. Too crowded. Too loud. Too many people looking at me. Too many people going and doing things. Nobody knew or cared who the hell I was and that was how I liked to keep it. By that time I could maybe wait for Carls Jr. to open and then I could grab a burger or some fries. I stretched that out too. I had nothing to read because I didn’t want to read the paper. I would have to save that for the night. If I was lucky I could maybe watch a little TV. I wish that they’d had a TV in the donut shop - that would’ve made it easier. I’d waste an hour or two at Carls and then go to the park for a quick nap. Tony was in continuation school and would get home at noon, maybe at 1 p.m. if he was smoking pot with somebody. Then I would get to use his shower, maybe change my clothes. Try not to bug him or his parents too much because I might get to spend the night there on the weekends. I stayed there for a couple weeks once until his father asked me what my plans were – so I left. And I didn’t want to do that to Tony or Chris because it was hard enough for them to live with their parents, they didn’t need me to put a strain on all of that shit. Anyways, people’s parents like you a lot better the less they see you. Trust me on this.

And if there was a point to this story - I’ve forgotten it. I originally wanted to tell you about the fat man, but the retarded translation really doesn’t do it justice unless you get to see how huge he was. I wasn't trying to whine either – but if it sounds like it and you don’t like it – then you have my permission to leave, nerd/loser. Don’t ever come back. I wrote this story last week and then forgot about it. I have to fire up the barbecue now. Grilled Mahi Mahi is more important.

I hate donuts.

Thanks.






I Can't Help You...

To the person who came to this site looking for masturbation techniques?

You need to get out more.

Or...to stay in more.

or something like that.




Monday, May 31, 2004



I Need...

To remind myself to be happy
before I start to spend the rest of my life being unhappy
i know everything that i used to
but need to remind myself
how it and i was
i need to not feel as old as i make myself
i need to feel as old as i made myself
how it and i was
but to remind myself
that everything that i used to know
before i started to spend the rest of my life being unhappy

need not be remembered...






Do I Write Email Spam To Myself?...

But they need to remember how eagerly cup behind girl scout procrastinates.Furthermore, tripod beyond cheese wheel flies into a rage, and squid inside prime minister reach an understanding with inferiority complex inside customer.around rattlesnake bur oil filter for, or rattlesnake inside make a truce with around parking lot.mirror behind fundraiser figure out inside trombone, because photon near prefer stovepipe near.Furthermore, insurance agent behind ruminates, and living with clock write a love letter to cloud formation behind maestro.Furthermore, judge toward rejoices, and cloud formation from mirror confess senator beyond satellite.

lifetime committal barberry schoolroom smolder







Bunny Mcintosh Rollerskates On Your Face And Makes You Cry...

I broke my digital camera today.
No focus anymore.
The camera - not me.

Now I am sad.





Saturday, May 29, 2004

Friday, May 28, 2004



A Message For You From The Guy That Screams In The Middle Of The Street And Pretends To Hold A Rifle...

I just gave him a couple of bucks as I left the store and he said," Tell you're friend to be safe, okay? Be safe! Be safe!"

I said that I would even though he didn't specify exactly whom he was talking about.

So...ummm...BE SAFE. Yeah you.

And then five minutes later while I was in my car at a red light, I saw a teacher herding about twenty little kids across the street in a crosswalk. A little girl did a cartwheel. I smiled.

That will probably be the coolest thing I'll see all day.




Thursday, May 27, 2004



More Important Than Me Getting Drunk...

Go visit The Island Of Misfit Toys.
Come back.
Don't.

Bring gum and a sleeping bag.




Wednesday, May 26, 2004



Some Other Day Than Today...

I can't write. The story I just started...ended. Hiccup will forever wonder why people are stealing his trash I guess. And why is this easier to write than what i was writing earlier? When I don't care, I can write. I don't obsess over grammatical syntax even though I rewrote this sentence. Those things can be corrected. Who cares anyway? It's not like there's a book deal hanging over my head. I'm not getting paid. I have no deadlines. Well, actually i do for a couple of things - but reading 128 pages of a book before I started writing tonight doesn't help because if im reading - im not writing. The music playing on this stupid-ass computer isn't helping either. I must remember to write like Hemingway. I must remember to write like a baby. I can't wait to go to Paris and write like a baby Hemingway. Actually, like I'd give a shit about writing about famous cities. I'm all for writing about famous situations within the cities. Not the boring, everyday march of the morons in places with history. It's already been done. Blow up a bomb in a cow field. Kill a cat on a dirty rooftop - but not on a famous rooftop. Throw a famous cow off of cat-infested rooftop with a bomb inside the building.

Morale of the story: Somebody else was picking through Hiccup's trash and slowly recreating his apartment because he or she or it wanted to be like Hiccup.

p.s. Hiccup got his nickname because he always does when he smokes pot. Which is awesome. I only named him Hiccup because my Muse CD was skipping.

No spell check.






Tuesday, May 25, 2004



Samuel Clemens' Right Eye...

Since nobody reads this site anymore - maybe I'll just let it die and do more productive things.
Nah. Fuck that. The writing'll probably get better now.
Like I care what the rest of the Munchkins in Munchkin Land think...

I hate you so much - I want to twist off your head.




Sunday, May 23, 2004



Oliver Queen...



Whenever my girlfriend talks about going shopping, I ask her to look at the toys for me. Even if she's going to a fabric store, IKEA/HELL, or looking for fake purses in L.A. She'll tell me that they don't have toys there. I always think she's lying to me. Everybody's against me. If I ask you to get me toys, a monkey, comic books, or beer - you better try real hard to make it possible. I'm serious. You can make this happen. I don't joke about stuff like that. I have constantly asked everybody for a bow and arrow set. My conservative, secret branch-of-the-government father of mine only gave me presents that he was interested in. So, my older brother and I got bow and arrow sets when we were young. We had fun, actually. We had more fun when my father was inside the house because he would’ve beaten the crap out of us seeing us shooting arrows at each other's heads. So, I've always wanted to do that again. Not shoot an arrow at my brother's head. Been there. Done that. No. I want to stand out in my backyard with twenty-four arrows, a twelve pack of beer, andjust shoot a bunch of arrows at targets, bales of hay, and fat people. I dream of this. From you, I get smiles. This is not cool. Do I look like I'm being cute? I mean it. Nobody listens to me. I was talking about this to a co-worker the other day and he told me that his younger brother was an archer. Seriously. An ARCHER. Legolas in training. What? Wow. I did a double take. Yes, he was serious. So he gave me one of his younger brother's bows.

It needs to get re-strung. I don't care. When I first got it. I took it out with me. In my drunken glee, I thought that, maybe a bow-stringer would see me pretending to shoot things and would take pity on me. Nothing happened. I am not lucky. I write like Frankenstein tonight too, I guess. Errr.

So, the other day, I went looking for the local archery shop. We do have one. I swear. I didn't just imagine this. I saw the sign, said Ace Of Base. I did, really. I saw a sign...but couldn't find it this time. I felt like a nerd and eventually gave up. Yesterday I looked up the place in the phone book...

- Blah Blah Archery. How can I help you?

Yeah, Umm…Where are you guys located? I tried to find you the other day, but didn't see you.

- Well, we're not in out old location anymore.

Like I'm a regular. Got any new stuff? Dorkdorkdork.

Oh. You're not on Commonwealth?

- Yes. That's where we are.

Really? Okay. Well, are you by anything, like a landmark or something?

Yeah, I said LANDMARK. Like they were right by Mt. Vesuvius, The Death Star or the statue of Jebediah Springfield or something.

- We're between POO and BLARGH street.

Like I have a sense of direction and like I know the streets of the city that I live in. I don't. I'm fucking retarded.

Oh. Yeah, and do you string bows too?

- (pause) Ummm……yes.

Okay. I guess that's like asking a mechanic if they do car work, but - c'mon, man, like I'm supposed to know. Maybe they'd all start laughing at me or something. I'm just making sure, okay. When you assume…you make ass-meat out of U and ME. Something like that…

Oh. Great. Thankyouverymuch. Cool. Thank you.

...Click!...

So. The moral of my story is that I'm drunk and that it's hard to be a nerd when the nerds...think you're a fucking nerd.

The End.

Watch. Now even the comic book guys will start pretending that they don't even know me.




Friday, May 21, 2004



Jai Guru De Va Om...

I just tried to take one of those little quiz thingys that you find on somebody else’s website – but the questions and all of my answers seemed dumb. It was kind of like I was trying to make myself look more clever or interesting to spice up the whole waste of time that it was. SO. I erased it. SO. I am now going to create my own. Which will suck and waste my time even further. I hate you, Internet.

Worst childhood memory?
Beatings, arguments, abuse. All of that happy crap.
Since nobody really knows you, what’s the no. 1 sexually perverted act that you like?
Human contact.
Best lie ever.
I love you.
Last time watched porn?
A week ago?
On a diet?
I look like I took a diet WAY too far.
Kerouac?
Loved the early guy. Sad for the fat version. Like Elvis.
Americans?
Fat. Lazy. Nice. Mean. Stupid question.
Bukowski?
NICE.
Stephen King?
Brilliant at times.
My authors suck. Name one of your favorites.
I just did.
Forget it. No more authors. That was stupid.
Yes.
Jawas? Filthy or just plain misunderstood?
Filthy.
Coolest part of your day?
Time with the girl before work.
What didn’t you do that you totally wanted to?
Write.
Why didn’t you do it?
Work.
Is that any excuse?
No.
What actor/actress would you most like to crotch-punch?
Fuck…ummm…today?
What actor/actress would you most like to crotch-massage?
Kate Beckinsale?
Give me an idea for a movie.
I crotch punch Hollywood.
Last favor you did for someone.
Crotch-punched Hollywood.
Most annoying website – besides mine, of course.
AOL.COM
Drink of choice?
Bud Light. Seriously.
Deserted island. One book. One item. One author, dead or alive. One companion animal. One thing that you could take to the island that’s in your car right now. One bathroom item.
Boy Scout Handbook Of America. Rambo knife. I wouldn't want to be stuck on an island with a writer unless it was a she, and she was hot..and MUTE. I'd like a Peurto Rican boy as a companion animal. I'd take my road flares so that I could burn my Puerto Rican when he was really bad. Bathroom item would be a gun.
What’s going on tomorrow?
Chaos. Order. Pizza. Porn. Oasis.
Favorite 5 cd’s right now.
That one Bjork CD that I got. AND SO ON by Longfellow. YOUR ENEMIES FRIENDS. THE ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND soundtrack. KNUCKLE SHUFFLE ON THE PISS PUMP by WRIST ACTION.
Site you were on before this?
Fat Free Milk.
Any comic books you want to send me?
Yes, I would love to, Kev...
Last time you got really pissed and why?
Today. I'll keep it to myself. Bottle it up.
If you could kill somebody right now – who would it be, why, and with what?
Ms. Scarlett, cuz' she's a whore and with the lead pipe in the study.
If you could bring a dead person back to life – who would it be? Religious figures don’t count.
Andre The Giant and The Haiti Kid. I cheated.
Weirdest thing that’s ever been inside your body?
Energy.
This was lame, huh? Oh well. YOU took it. I was bored. I’m the bigger dork, but YOU took it. Dork.
Piss off, you wanker. Yeah, you.






Yoda's Bland Food...



First thing I see
when I twist off
the cap of a beer
is Dagobah fog.

And a lifetime of solitude...




Thursday, May 20, 2004



Seriously...

Have I missed the bus or was I not supposed to be able to buy a ticket anyway? I just don't get it. I'm either the biggest waste in the universe or I'm grasping at the coats of demonic millionaires a coupla seconds too late. I'm like a stray dog weaving in-between lanes of highway traffic. Maybe I should stop and take a breather? Maybe I rested too long that last time. Everytime I stop, I put myself in more danger...but maybe if I pull my leg over my head and lick myself, one of those cars might notice me, stop...and take me home. To a place of warm fireplaces, food, comfort and heavy petting...

Yes. I said heavy petting...






To Get To The Other Side...



If you combined the whole Blogger thing with the old Atari video game FROGGER - then maybe there'd be a point to this.




Wednesday, May 19, 2004



The Taskmaster Knows All of Your Moves Even Before You Do Them Because He Studies Them On Videotape Before You Fight…



And the beat goes on even for those suffering from heart attacks. Black markers on black souls and the color black is used in too much writing. Work is a bitch, and don’t you just fucking hate that bitch from work? I make food for my girlfriend and never eat it. I’ve become my mother. She’s very short. I’ve seen her twice in the last eleven years. That either makes me old or her - not too attentive. Maybe both. My friend’s mom told me the other day that she thought that I was 22. I said thank the gods I’m not anymore. I feel sorry for Ernest Hemingway because he pussed out and because he was a jock and couldn’t survive being a tough guy today. Kerouac did not become a roman candle – he became a fat dud firework. His last wife looked exactly like his mother. I couldn’t marry my mother because she’s too short...and I need lots of attention.

And the beat goes on even for those suffering from heart attacks. Black markers on black souls and the color black is used in too much writing. Work is a bitch, and don’t you just fucking hate that bitch from work? I make food for my girlfriend and never eat it. I’ve become my mother. She’s very short. I’ve seen her twice in the last eleven years. That either makes me old or her - not too attentive. Maybe both. My friend’s mom told me the other day that she thought that I was 22. I said thank the gods I’m not anymore. I feel sorry for Ernest Hemingway because he pussed out and because he was a jock and couldn’t survive being a tough guy today. Kerouac did not become a roman candle – he became a fat dud firework. His last wife looked exactly like his mother. I couldn’t marry my mother because she’s too short...and I need lots of attention.




Tuesday, May 18, 2004



Fat Man And Throbbin'...

I just saw one of those two person bikes. The guy in the front was dressed up as Robin The Boy Wonder. The guy on back wasn't dressed as Batman, which made it even weirder.

I waited for The Joker to follow on a unicycle - but it never happened - so I got in my car and drove home.




Monday, May 17, 2004



Melatonin...



Lost a paper that had about five story ideas and a list of things to do.

So now I'm here, just kind of twiddling my thumbs on this keyboard. I gathered up all of my movies to return to the video store. I have Netflix but still go to the video store occasionally, because, you know - it's just so hard to mail those Netflix envelopes back, y' know? I also have my bow propped by the door. I'm going to take it to that archery store place thingy to get it strung. Then I can start shooting arrows at people and chirping birds. I also took off the back of the huge tv that we have. We broke the connector thing off of the back. When I popped of the back panel, I made something else come loose too. It's brains and nervous system were all too complicated and web-like - so, I guess I have to find somebody to help me lug that thing to a TV repair shop. Then I will go back home and work on my screenplay about demon conjuring, binding spells, Hell and The Necronomicon...






Malone On Babies...

What sucks about baby pictures is that time passes and then you look at the picture afterwards and then realize that the kid looks nothing like the baby picture anymore and it’s not as fun. Then, maybe, like, twenty years go by, and then you get all astounded by how young the baby was.

Yeah.




Friday, May 14, 2004



Dork...

I just got done making my car payment over the phone. I always talk to the same girl. She's nice. We shoot the shit and fill each other in on what's been happening lately. After we were done talking, I told her goodbye and then said, "Be good".

Be good?

What the hell is that all about?

Oh. Now I remember...I'm retarded.




Wednesday, May 12, 2004



John Constantine…





Waking up can be a mistake. Some days, I feel like I’ve made a bad choice. People who die in their sleep may be geniuses. Maybe they found out something in dreams that I never will. Maybe they had a divine moment of REM clarity and said holyshitfucknowigetitwhatthehellwasithinking? Then they’re done. Pop goes the cork. Bright burns the light. Sink the ship. Fries are done. Game Over, Ms. Pac Man. Fireworks. Smoke in the air. The crowd leaves. Holiday over. Laughing all the way to Narnia, Hogwarts, Orange County, Krynn, Hoth, Middle Earth, Oz, Hollywood, and to that place where The Brothers Lionheart went.

I’m quiet now. Maybe I cashed in all of my emotional stocks way back in the 80’s and 90’s. I’ve made some bad investments. Now, I just seem to float around all gossamer-like. Kind of like the one, thin spider web that seems to stick to your face no matter how much you claw at it when you go out in the backyard to water your lawn late at night. I won’t go away – but I’m not as big as I could’ve been. Just a tad bit annoying. Making my presence known. Not doing any real damage. Somebody once compared Jimi Hendrix to the thin wire filament of a burning light bulb. The light that burns twice as bright, burns half as long. That’s how I feel. Like the slow parts of a good movie. Like radioactive waste. I know I’m still young, but you really should’ve known me before. I was crazier. I fucking either wanted to be left alone to scribble away in the darkness, to think, to break things…or wanted to question and tear the outside world apart. Now, I wish that everything was quiet. Silencio, por favor. I don’t think. And when I do. It passes through my brain like caffeine. All energy dissipates as soon as it’s fleetingly conjured. I smile a little, but always look like I’d be happier somewhere else. I wish I knew where that place was. It’s definitely not in front of a computer screen. It’s definitely not outside. Definitely not inside my head, or out of it. What makes me feel happy now? I’m not depressed or anything. I’m just talking. I know that a lot of my biggest changes have happened in small amounts of time and sometimes the smallest change can happen in a long time. I know that if love and life played by our rules, then that pretty, little picture in our head would be a reality.

Slow, progressive, Earth-shaking change was cool back in the day. Spending a couple years here or there doing the same-ass things - but making adventures in the meantime was nice – but we were a lot younger then. What happens when the amount of time starts stacking? What happens when the amount of decay overpowers the fresh growth?

You get the fuck out of town. Okay. Where and for how long? Guess you have to find out along the way, eh? Change yourself? Duh. Whatever. Instant change is like ramen noodles. Unsatisfying and shitty.

This might not make sense – but like I care. Keep your snide, little comments to yourself, or go visit a clever BLOG. Say what you want. Just don’t be funny, because I’m doing all of the fake, unreal cleverness here.

You know why I liked Bukowski so much? Because he was honest. He was ugly. He was the poetic John Merrick. He was sad. Depressed. Brilliant. A pig. He wanted to be left alone, but needed love on his own terms. He went postal before postal was postal – but he went postal on paper. That last sentence makes sense if you slow it down.

Jumanji’s in my heart, but the Hellraiser Cube’s in my pocket. I don’t know what to do.

I really do wish that I could meet Han Solo and have a drink with him. He’d understand, and just say a coupl of gruff sentences that WOULD MAKE SENSE TO ME AND SUM UP THE WHOLE DEAL. Then we’d have more blue drinks served in Tupperware glasses, and double-team a gal with tentacles for hair.

After work today, I was at a stoplight and saw the mayor of my city walking across the crosswalk. I leaned my head out of my car and said hello. He said, Hi Kevynn! That’s nice, even if he is a politician.

I like my cats, my friends, toys, comic books. I also like porn, threatening mean people with violence, and fucked up music. I’m writing about absolutely nothing.

I need to live on a ranch and just make all of this stuff go away. Trust me – I’m not trying to be all complicated and deep. I’m far from that and I don’t want your sympathy. Your condolences are like cheap crack. It strings you out in the end. No caloric value to it. Ample amounts of empathy does not make a healthy diet. I need direction. Something other then TAKE A LEFT AFTER THE STOP SIGN or GET A NEW JOB. I need something … I need it like Dracula does. I’ll know it when I taste it. I used to watch my mother suck the marrow out of chicken bones when I was young. I tried it a couple of times. I remember her chasing around a couple of geese that I thought were pets. I remember her chopping their heads off with a cleaver, Wally. Feathers floating in the air and headless bodies flapping on the ground.

People talk too much. They need to just stop for a bit. Most of my days are like one, sticky, continuous conversation ball thrown at my head. Im too tired to dodge em’ and just let em' roll down my face. Nodnodnod yesyesyes. Big Bump. Everybody just calm down, shut up, and leave everybody else alone. Walk around, play with your kids, walk the dogs – but, still … shut up. You’re about as original as ME. Which isn’t much. I’m an ungrateful bastard. I’m the ugliest beautiful person you’ve ever met – I deserve to be hunted down like Frankenstein.

He’ll tell you…

Waking up can be a mistake.






Tuesday, May 11, 2004



My Friend...

Brandon has a new dog about the size of two tarantulas.




Monday, May 10, 2004



Cody?...

Visions of the drunk ass girl at the bar last night, puking tequila in between her fingers still haunts me...




Friday, May 07, 2004



Ask Me A Question...

Besides why I'm so gay.

The reward for your participation will be my next post.

I think It'll be fun.

And gay.

Meaning happy.

Meaning GAY.





Thursday, May 06, 2004



Kevynn Can Mend A Broken Heart When He Gets All The Pieces…

Sometimes…when I approach a person, I don’t know whether to stab them or to hug them. Sometimes, I’ll hug them first and then stab them – but I’d rather stab a person after a good, long hug any day.


"Since light travels faster than sound, is that why some people appear bright until you speak to them?" -Steven Wright





Wednesday, May 05, 2004



Clementine Kruczynski...



Today at work, I asked a table if they wanted fresh ground pepper.

The man said, "Give me three turns."

So I spun myself in a circle three times.

When I was finished, they all just looked at me.

So I left.






Hitler Mouse...

The Walt Disney Company is blocking its Miramax Films division from distributing Michael Moore's documentary "Fahrenheit 911," which criticizes President Bush, according to a statement on Moore's Web site.
The film is highly critical of Bush's handling of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks and his actions leading up the attacks.
"I would have hoped by now that I would be able to put my work out to the public without having to experience the profound censorship obstacles I often seem to encounter," Moore wrote in the statement.
Miramax spokesman Matthew Hiltzik did not immediately return calls for comment Wednesday. Disney spokesman John Spelich also did not return calls early Wednesday.

Moore attributes Disney's decision to concerns that the documentary will endanger tax breaks the company receives from Florida and anger Bush's brother, Florida Gov. Jeb Bush.
Disney has a contractual agreement with Miramax principals Bob and Harvey Weinstein allowing it to prevent the company from distributing films under certain circumstances, such as an NC-17 rating, according to The New York Times, which first reported the story.

"Some people may be afraid of this movie because of what it will show," Moore wrote. "But there's nothing they can do about it now because it's done, it's awesome, and if I have anything to say about it, you'll see it this summer — because, after all, it is a free country."

The often confrontational director won an Oscar for his 2002 documentary "Bowling for Columbine," about the Columbine High School shooting and U.S. gun control policy. He's also known for the 1989 film "Roger & Me," which explored the effects of General Motors on his hometown of Flint, Mich. "Fahrenheit 911" will be one of 18 films in competition next week at the Cannes Film Festival, Moore wrote.







She Looks Out The Portal At Solaris.

RHEYA
Is it a planet?

KELVIN
Not exactly. It exists in a
continuum that wasn't proven until
ten years ago, a higher
mathematical dimension superimposed
on top of the Universe. An
infinite number of them, in fact.
It was a violation of all of our
various laws regarding the
Universe, Space, or Space-Time. It
was completely counter-intuitive.
We had to unlearn everything.

RHEYA
Is it intelligent?

KELVIN
Intelligent beyond our
comprehension.

RHEYA
Then it's God, right?

KELVIN
It's something.

RHEYA
You still don't believe in God?

KELVIN
The whole idea of God was dreamed
up by a silly animal with a small
brain called Man. Even the limits
we put on it are human limits. It
can do this, it can do that! It
designs, it creates!

RHEYA
Even a God that wasn't active, that
just created something and stood
back and watched?

KELVIN
You're talking about a man in a
white beard again. You're
ascribing human characteristics to
something that isn't human. Human
beings look for causes and
patterns. How could we know what
Solaris is up to, if anything?

A beat.

RHEYA
But what if Solaris is what there
was before The Big Bang?

KELVIN
As I said, it is beyond our
comprehension.

RHEYA
As I said, then it's God, right?




I was going to write about my trip to Austin– but then erased the beginning of it because I don’t know how I can fit most of the highlights in and because I’m a very lazy guy. I had something funny to say anyway, but now I’ve forgotten it.

I did see the biggest goldfish that I’ve ever seen. AND I also watched a dog hump a keg. I tried to take pictures of a little kid with a mullet, but his mom was watching so I didn’t get any spectacular pics. I drank constantly.

With the mullet kid.




Tuesday, May 04, 2004



So, I Leave For A Week...

And I come back to NO new comments and an Internet virus.

Lick it.




Wednesday, April 28, 2004



Stone Cold...



I leave for Austin tomorrow morning. Maybe I'll write less, maybe I won't. Maybe I don't really care much. It's hotter here in THE OC than in Austin. That's kind of strange. usually it's the other way around for me. Yes, I said THE OC. I'm gonna pull a Paris Hilton and trade in my comfy life. I'm ready to milk some cows. Give me your tired, your weary, your cow manure. I'm tired. I should go to bed. I need to forget to pack things.

This is why I need to get away...

Writing like this...




Tuesday, April 27, 2004



There Must Be An Unwritten Rule...

That the more keys a man has jingling from his belt...

The creepier he is...






Uncle Rhesus Monkey...

I wish that when people talked about Hip Hop - they were actually talking about people that were hip, and hopped around a lot. Maybe, like, cool bunnies. All Little Bunny Foo Foo - but without the violent bopping of the heads.




Saturday, April 24, 2004



Regarding Chewbacca's Inability To Speak Human And His Deep Feelings Toward Han Solo...



He would've said to Princess Leia, " Bitch! The man is mine!"

I think that Chewy would be the ultimate sexual partner because he functions as both a lover AND a blanket.




Friday, April 23, 2004



Not A Cool Title...

If I was an addict trying to score illegal substances at a party,
I'd bring along a K9 drug-sniffing dog.

Genius.







Friday, February 28, 2003...

Bamboo Plants...

My name is Kevynn Malone. I am 5' 11' and a half inches tall. I weigh 138 lbs. My hair is dark brown. I have one brown eye and one light brown eye. My hair is short. I have a scar on my eyebrow from Ian punching me in a drunken fight club night. I have a scar on my nose from throwing it through the glass on a front door. I broke my wrist playing football in fifth grade. I have bad knees. I play Bass guitar. I draw one picture every three months. I write everyday. I am horrible at paying bills. Children like me. I have too many friends. I have too many enemies. All of my friends are talented and insane. I barely drive. I hate freeways. I like to read. None of my family lives in California. I have a girlfriend and two cats. My father used to work for a secret branch of the government. My mother is very short and could drink you under the table. She's a fucking scrapper in a fight. My father is shy. I am not. I sing a lot out loud. I used to skateboard a lot. I like comic books again. I want to be a movie star. I want my screenplays published. I did meet one of the studio heads from MGM yesterday, though. I want to be a Calvin Klein model. I like to buy action figures. Tonight I am going to Jen's house, then I am going to see Tony and Tom play at a bar. Tomorrow I am going to the library. Sunday? I don't know. I am looking forward to Kevynn Malone Day on March 5th. I encourage all to AIM me. We can all hook up that talky-to-talky option on it and drink together. I don't drink anything else but Bud Light. I'm a puss. I don't like to get in trouble anymore. I like to be awake when I drink. I should be getting ready right now, but I'm not. I'm talking to you and singing to Soul To Squeeze by Red hot Chili Peppers.........


I am happy. Mostly. I won't complain. I'm trying. Maybe not hard enough. I need to ignore you more and concentarte on all of the movie and book shit that I attribute 4% of my time to. I taught my girlfriend's niece all about Pez today. I gave her a really cool one today. We ate candy and filled all of mine up. I broke one. But it was a stupid one, so who cares. I need to hook up my photo scanner. I need to get business cards printed. I can dance, but don't. Much. I don't have a Play Station. I have a cool backyard. My neighbors are my friends. I buried my old cat in the backyard. I am friends with an eighty year old man. My youngest friend is four. I am twenty-seven. I believe aliens have visited Earth but don't believe in any of your gods. I don't like to watch wrestling. I like basketball and nothing else. I am unorganized. I think a lot. I wave to planes and helicopters. I don't like to kill ants, but will punch you in the face if you piss me off. I have to remind myself to breathe deep. I am more apt to look up or down than left/right or forward. I don't have a cell phone. I carry around a Moleskin in my back, left pocket. I hate coffee. I smoke. I have Buddy Holly-type glasses, but I need new ones. I paid three hundred glasses for these four years ago. I think I got my moneys worth....My vision isn't horrible. I am nearsighted. I eat a lot of salads. I hate sharks. I like monkeys.


I'll be back soon, nigga...






Thursday, April 22, 2004



ENOUGH. The Sovereign Of Asgard Has Greater Tasks To Attend Than The Subjugation Of One ALREADY Brought So Low. Take Him To The Dungeons, And Let Asgard's NEW Age Begin Forthwith...



Living life through the gray area. I see my reflection on the computer screen. It looks blurry and dark. I'll try to change it, to adjust it and to give the picture more clarity.

I spit hard outside before I came in here, trying to get rid of the excess that was in my system. A Buddhist mantra also came to my lips – but I cut it short. No matter how beautiful it is to cultivate peace and meditation – it still takes action and a little physical force to move things. If I can cut the roots of a heavy tree, because it’s blocking my way - then I’ll try real hard to move the damn thing. Even if it makes me more tired than I am now.

Now I don’t see my reflection. The page that I’m typing on is a blinding white. I’m trying to darken it with my words. To blend it into something...in-between. Grey. Then, after I’m done. When I’m ready, I’m going to turn this damn thing off.

Let it go black...




Monday, April 19, 2004



They Might Be Wil Wheaton…



Went to see They Might Be Giants on Friday. Thanks to Cartoon Pig for the tickets. It was at the House Of Blues in Anaheim. I’ve never been to this one – only the one out in L.A. I like the layout of the L.A. one better, but this one was nice and simple. Cool in my book. Nice and simple always works for me. Concert venues, stores, diffusing bombs…stuff like that.

I met Wil Wheaton at the bar. I noticed the T-Shirt that he bought first, actually. I thought to myself, “smart guy”. None of that waiting in line crud after the show. Then I noticed that he looked like my friend, Brandon, then I noticed that he looked like Wil Wheaton, then I noticed that he was Wil Wheaton. I introduced myself, and then later, introduced him to my girlfriend. He was a very nice guy. Not that ever expected him not to be. We talked for a bit about writing and whatnot. He had just finished his book that day. Good for him. I’ll buy it. I like his writing. I tried not to bend his ear too much, even though I had a million geeky questions about small press publishing, writing habits, influences, comic books, voice agents, role-playing, and Warhammer 40k. The show was about to start, Cartoon Pig was already inside and a $4.50 Bud Light can of beer was calling my name. That might be the first time that I’ve actually met a real, published writer. Ray Bradbury was speaking at the library right down the street from my house years ago, but I couldn’t get tickets. I talk to myself a lot – but I don’t count because I’m a hack and wouldn’t want to ask myself anything anyway because I’m rude, condescending and always have food in my teeth.

On Saturday, I played poker with some friends and ended up splitting the pot. I dug myself out of a hole and ended up with $180. Not too shabby. Maybe I’ll email Mr. Wheaton and invite him for some poker, beers and geek talk if he’s ever in my neck of the woods. I don’t think that we live that far from each other. One famous geek, one not. I’m not the famous one – but I will take his money. Ha.

Sunday, I worked fourteen hours straight.

Today…I wrote this.

The end.






Stop It. C'mon, You Can Do It...

Someone has found Fat Free Milk through Google about a hundred times in the last couple of days by typing in Obsessive Compulsive disorder. Dude. Get help. And give me a dollar. You must. Seriously.




Friday, April 16, 2004



They Might Be Giants...



Tonight.
Drinks.
Geeks.
No fights.
Well, maybe - y' never know.
But how much harm can a geek do with a slide ruler?
Shit.
Maybe a lot.




Wednesday, April 14, 2004



A Testimonial From My Friend Baxter...

"When he has his first book published in a format that requires a barcode on the back jacket, I will undoubtedly add the title to my favorite books list. I would also like to point out that Kevynn is an early example of what happens when our troops go to a foreign country for no reason, get their ass kicked and f*ck the natives. We should be seeing more recent (and hairier) examples in about nine months."






Droopy...

I love flat tires after you get off of work.

I'm SO horny about them.






John Wayne Was A Prick...



Big, tall racist, cowboy ass. All of his movies are outdated and worthless now anyway. Tell us how you really feel, Bub? Props to his son for selling his image out on those old Coors Light commercials too. I used to think that his offspring sucked for doing that - just like Fred Astaire's too - but when you think about it. They were both pricks probably and the kids needed the money to pay for therapy. No. That's not fair. Yes. Yes, it is. I really don't know about Fred, but John Wayne was a crap head. Now, Robert Mitchum...THAT'S a real fucking cowboy.

I have no idea why I started writing about this.

You and me both.

And Spellcheck.




Tuesday, April 13, 2004



No More Reading About Star Wars Stuff For Me...

I mean...even my nerds are growing nerds.

What?

I don't know either.






Pay No Attention To The Man Behind The Curtain...



Thank you to The Jesus Bunny for giving me the day off on Sunday. No bartending for me, folks – so that meant serving drinks to myself. Which is cool, but not as financially lucrative. So it goes.

I bought fourteen dollars worth of Halibut that nobody ate. Joe bought enough steak to feed an army – which everybody later ate. Played poker, and then ended up getting drunk with Tony and taking pictures into the wee hours of the night. Gay. Yes. But fun.



I've reached an all time low.
My pic's on the internet.
Might as well log on to a Star Trek message board now...




Monday, April 12, 2004



The Grand Ennui...

kvn: how ya been, punk?
boz: that's not a sweater thats a bondage vest
kvn: ha.
boz: I'm good, I'm always good
kvn: Cool. Im half-crazy. The same.
boz: so tell me about this donnie darko fetish you have, is there a book, cause the movie really sucked
kvn: Half-Viet, half-Irish, half-insane.
kvn: Dude. So original. So much a better piece of writing than half of the shit out there.
kvn: Not the best - but original, at least.
boz: figured there had to be a book, because the movie really didn't answer anything
kvn: You remind me of Frank - the bunny.
boz: I thought I reminded you of the roberta scurvy
kvn: No. No book. recommend a movie to me then, bubba
kvn: nothing funny
boz: have you seen Frida?
kvn: comedies are boring
kvn: BERT?
kvn: no. but i heard it was good.
boz: Frida with salma hayek
boz: yeah, real good, about an artist not reaching her potential, sort of like someone I know
kvn: Generally movies about painters suck, though...Stealing Picasso...Bisquik, Pollack...
boz: this had sex in it
kvn: Dude. They made a movie about somebody that reminded you of yo - I mean...The Hard Artist? wow.
kvn: jk. Hard kicks butt.
kvn: sex is good.
boz: I wasn't thinking about Hard
boz: I was thinking about someone who used to sleep with him
kvn: I'm getting kind of bored with the internet and writing on it - can you tell?
kvn: I know you didnt mean Hard. ha.
boz: funny thing though, the less you write the more comments you get
boz: I know you know I didn't mean Hard, I just wanted another chance to tell people that you used to sleep with him
kvn: Crap. Seriously, nobody comes around as much anymore. I used to get crazy amounts of people - but now it's a slow trickle...
kvn: Don't care too much though.
boz: ebb and flow, you have to go with the ebb and flow
kvn: Fuck. I just wrote something and it didnt go.
boz: on the zonk?
kvn: I know. I love it more than hate it. I just want to leave the internet as NOT my only sorce of writing. I want to get back to my old school productive ways again. Y' know. Pen. Paper. No distractions other than the ones with lungs andd telephones.
kvn: my fault. not the zonks. spelling? my fault. not god's.
kvn: sorce?
boz: can't you write on the computer, that's the way stephen king does it
kvn: Shit. He's a madman. And a REAL writer, not a hack like me. And even though he's brilliant - he's got buck teeth and an ugly wife...so that must make it easier to write. No distractions. Socially or romantically.
kvn: That was harsh, Stephen - my gog. Writing muse. I apologize.
boz: gog?
kvn: god, i meant. I feel bad.
kvn: That was horrible of me to say.
boz: it was, and his wife reads my blog
kvn: Even though Bukowski was ugly, Hemingway was fat, and Kerouac ended up marrying his fat, ol' mom.
kvn: Damn. There I go again.
kvn: I'm sorry.
kvn: And they were all alcoholics too.
boz: you think mariel hemingway is fat?
kvn: Damn. Again.
kvn: MAriel Hemingway has King's teeth.




Sunday, April 11, 2004



Cartoon Pig Radio Mention...



Props to the man for my radio show mention.
Much love to the cow that died to feed my belly.
Thanks to Jesus for doing...whatever he did.

I enjoy not working on Sunday, bloody guy.






Gundark...

Gonna pull your ears off...

Soon...




Friday, April 09, 2004



Uneven Bedford Blazer...

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Çی ÈÑ Çیä ÔÇäÓ áÚäÊ ! ÈÇÒã ÓÇá ÞÈá ÇÒ Çáã?ی˜.
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Thursday, April 08, 2004



There Are A Million Things...

That I can say about this right now.
But no man, no matter how verbose -
Can properly explain it.

Enjoy?




Wednesday, April 07, 2004



Dear, Mr. Daylight Savings...

I take back all of the bad things that I said about you. I'm sorry. I DO appreciate it still being light outside after taking a post work nap. So...I hope all is well with you, and I just wanted to let you know that I apologize, okay?

And I'm sorry for calling your mother a whore.

Goodbye.




Tuesday, April 06, 2004



Kashyyyk...



I walked past the comic book store after work today and saw a poster for a comic called Teen Titans Go! It's kind of like a superhero team for the Power Puff Girls age bracket. Anyway, the slogan of the cartoony version of The Teen Titans is Truth. Justice...Pizza. That got me to thinking about The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and how they were really into pizza. Then that got me thinking about how kids go apeshit over pizza. That got me thinking about that baseball game when I was young, and how my father told me that if I caught a flyball - then he'd take us all out for pizza. I fucked up two very important ones, one sailed over my head, and I dropped the next. Then my older brother punched me in the arm and called me an asshole. That got me to thinking how I build up how I want pizza in my head for weeks, order one, and then only eat two pieces. Only the Italians have a right to go apeshit over pizza. They created it. But they're also responsible for Tony Danza too, so fuck em'. I hate advertising that feeds the fuel of American fatties. I hope they put a bomb in your pizza next time. All this because of pizza. I hate you, pizza. Piss off.






This Is All For Now...

I'm Rick James, Bitch!

Thank You.




Monday, April 05, 2004



The Kids Of Widney High...



Life Without the Cow

Life without the cow, no more milk and cheese
No more New York steak, no more fertilizer

No more BBQ, no more leather shoes
No more butter on biscuits, no more Ben and Jerry's

But there is a cow, I see 'em every day
I seem 'em from the freeway in California
I can't stand my life without the cow

Life without the cow, nor more cottage cheese
No more hamburgesas, cowgirls or cowboys

No more saying "Mooo", no more "Cow and Chicken"
No more frozen yogurt, no more big brown eyes
(Chorus)

Brahman Bull, Caucasian, Guernsey, Black Angus, Beefalo, Belted Galloway, Brown Swiss, Jersey, Corinthian Blonde, Texas Longhorn, Jamaica Red, Florida Cracker
(Chorus)
(Solo over verse)
(Chorus)2x




Friday, April 02, 2004



Mortimer Mouse...

Early in the morning, while working on The Great American Novel, I went outside to smoke a cigarette, and found a dead rat that the outside cat left for me on the doormat. I rolled it up in the mat and then tried to fling it into the bushes, but it sailed over them and landed on the neighbor's driveway with a splat. Then I went back inside and ate Mexican food.

rat
that
cat
doormat
splat




Thursday, April 01, 2004



Whatever Happened To The Man Of Tomorrow?...



Today for April Fools Day - I fooled myself.
Yeah, It was awesome.
I pretended that I was happy and liked my job.
I put a big smile on my face and pretended to be interested in conversations.
Everything was nice and shiny.
Perfect, new, and polished.
The air smelled of baby heads (still attached) and crisp linens.
I loved it.
I told myself that getting up in the morning was the best thing that I could've done today.
I told myself that I was proud of myself, that I've accomplished much, and that it doesn't get any better than this.
Everything was great until I crept up behind myself and yelled,

APRIL FOOLS! YOU MOTHER FUCKER!!!
in my ear and punched myself in the face. My mouth was a bloody O with shattered teeth decorating the edges. I kicked myself in the crotch hard, and that's when I fell. I grabbed a fistfull of my own hair and slammed my head down hard into the pavement. The dull thud reverberated through my arm.

I kept on yelling APRIL FOOLS! as I repeatedly slammed my head into the ground.

It was hilarious. I totally made me believe it. I'm Such a Jokester. How did I come up with those things? Dude, wasn't that funny? Did you see the look on my face when I was punching me? I hope I'm not mad at myself.

HaHaHaHaHa....

I fooled me good.