Red Hot Riding Hood...

There Are coyotes howling in my front yard.

DO NOT WALK THE DOG, KEVYNN.

I went out front and whistled because I don't ever know what to do when the Kindred come calling.

This is tonight's reverse Tex Avery scenario.



My trashcans are the sexy singer on stage.

And yes, it's a full moon tonight.

Seriously.

Walter Mitty Meets Mr. Limpet Meets Tyler Durden Meets Hemingway's Favorite Shotgun...

I think I'm fine, I always have been to a certain point.

I'm a bit like Casper The Friendly Ghost, just not as cute and a lot more angst-ridden about my existence in life.

A bit like Bukowski, but not as talented and pock-marked.

One percent Kerouac, but not in love with my mother.

A tiny bit Ginsberg, but not as gay.

Burroughs without the drugs.

Scott Card without the religion and cosmic blueprints.

Vonnegut without the Vonnegut.

My father without the discipline.

Richard Bachman without the Stephen King.

My girlfriend without the Buddha-like precision.

Me without the mirror.

I am exactly the same as I always have been.

Really.

I am everything that I've always known.

As as my years trail by like comets -

My heart says
that
in this universe
at least
in MINE

that this is still

a good thing.

The Summer of 2007' - Day 1

Dear Diary of Earth 2 and the Marvel Universe 616,

It's getting warmer. The dog is panting, beers sweat and my sleep is more sporadic than usual.

I caught up on all of my For Better Or For Worse today.

I've been pecking away on my play.

I've rewritten it about ten times.

It's an actors dream and my nightmare. You know how in Sci-Fi and comic books there are Multi-and alternate universes that co-exist and entwine with our own?

This is what writing stories is like sometimes.

Sometimes, in one of my own Multi-verses, I finish everything that I start and don't have a narcoleptic attention span.

Milk Free Fat

I'm done and done with working
I'm done and done with thinking
I'm done and done with peeking at
all of the dreams I'm envisioning

I'm done with dumb
and think I'll plumb
the darknesses
that my bright days have become

I'm down with words
and floundering, for sure
Life is creatively frustrating
My heart and brain is like a crack whore
and so you just shut up
and don't get in my way
I'll carve you up
my mind can kick your mind's ass

the end

Kafka Has A Posse...

I'm finding it very hard to write or to get motivated for much recently.

I sleep a lot.

I never used to sleep.

Phone Call (Seattle Bar noise in the background)

Ian - Hey, buddy - gotta Star Wars question for you.

Self - Ha ha, sure - what's up?

Ian - What're the Sand People called from Star Wars?

Self - Tusken Raiders.

Ian - Awesome, and what are the things that they ride called?

Self - Banthas.

Ian - Sweet. Thanks, man.

Self - Will it help you get lucky?

Ian - Ha ha...maybe.

No cigars, no drug use - just a lack of parental guidance and copius amounts of freetime...

I was talking to myself today and asked myself, "Self? What was the first thing that you did growing up, knowing that you'd paved a path for potential blackmail, thus, destroying any chance of you ever becoming President?"

I answered, "Ummm...probably humping bedposts, self."

Fat Free Milk