Alpha Blondy...

First I was going to write a story about me on a hunt for sexually-starved blondes. Then I changed it to a story about piloting a ship towards a planet called Alpha Blondy. Then I was going to tell a tale about fighting a wrestling jock. I just couldn't get passed the "Bloody" oops! not bloody- I couldn't get past the "Blondy" spelling. I wanted "Blondie" even though it's not really a word-but I really shouldn't mind because I make up my own words when I write anyway. So I found the real Alpha Blondy's website and it's not bad at all. Well, I only heard the song that plays at the beginning of the website. It made me realize that I don't have jack-shit when it comes to reggea in my music collection. Not even the obligatory Bob Marley's Greatest Hits CD. Doesn't everyone? But you don't have any Atari Teenage Riot, do you? Nope. I'll get this guy's CD. Now everybody get Atari Teenage Riot...

Attu, this is the fucking funniest thing I have ever seen...this thingy.

Foment...

Sad Story. Years ago I once needed money so bad that I sold a whole Darth Vader case of Star Wars figures to a guy who placed an ad in the paper. I think that I sold them for two bucks a piece, which netted me about forty much-needed bucks, but is still very sad when you think about it. Two bucks for a Power Droid? How? Two bucks for a Gammorean Guard? Why? Two bucks for Mon Mothma? Weeeeeelllll...that seemed about right.

Mon Mothma sucked. She was one of those weird-ass figures that they had that no kid really wanted-but somehow managed to get at Christmas or on a birthday. Mon Mothma looked like an action figure of somebody's really religious, anal-retentive stepmom or something.

So she might have been at the top of all time shitty Star Wars action figures to have. God, she was boring. I don't remember her having a weapon-maybe just a gay-old staff or something. She wasn't even hot looking, so Chewbacca humping her in the back of the Millenium Falcon wasn't even a redeeming option for her plasticky existence.

But I guess as far as Star Wars geek-dom goes, she wasn't pretty looking, but still pretty much a bad ass in the whole Star Wars universe. To the big ol' bad and evil Empire, she was a problem. She became disillusioned with the Empire and left to foment a rebellion against them. Enter Luke, Leia, Han, Chewy, your mom, etc...to save the universe.


Thanks, Elizabeth...

C'mon Punks...

Anybody who writes ONE word of their choosing in the comments section of this post will get the next post(s) written about their ONE word.

I hope that made sense because I'm not going to write it over, baby.

It'll make me stop reading these damn, old comic books anyway...

Stupid Winds...

Go ask Wil-He'll tell you too. We get these winds out here that suck my big fat one to quote Stand By Me. What did he say in that? Suck my fat one, you cheap dime-store prick? Was that it? Anyway, these stupid Santa Ana winds ( I don't know why they call them that-Santa Ana is a city out here-what, do they come from there or something? ) They're the kind of winds that wreak havoc on those with sensitive noses like mine. It feels like somebody stuffed a couple of chopsticks up into my brain and turned on the snot faucets. Sorry. Gross. I tend to sneeze alot. I'm not the type that sneezes once either. Or like a little mouse like some of you-that always drives me crazy with jealousy. I sneeze HARD. FAST and FURIOUS. Yeah, if Vin Diesel was a series of about five sneezes in a row followed by thirty others...that'd be what his next movie would be called...I don't care if that made any sense. My nose is buggin' the crap out of me.

Stupid Winds...

So A Customer Asked Me The Other Day...

Where I would want to live in the United States if I didn't live in California.
Somewhere like Montana. Definitely. Even though I've never been there, it just sounds good. Looks good to me from what I've seen. I want a ranch in Montana. A modest one with some horses. No cattle. Some chickens. Some Werewolves to fight. I want to walk around my ranch. Help my hired man out with some of the chores. Sit around on the front porch and smoke and drink and write. And I'll use "AND" all of the time in my writing. And I won't use proper punctuation-I'll have the fancy-schmancy east coast editor do all of that. I'll fly in friends whenever they want, or they can just raise a ruckus in the guest house. I want some lemon trees too. I don't think that's possible there-but I'll want fresh lemonade. AND to do that-I'll build a geo-dome thingy. Yeah, that's it. And I'll run around naked, dressed in war paint. With all of my dogs, who will help me fight all of the Werewolves...

Sounds good to me...

Friggin' 80's people...

Have you noticed all of the recent "celebrities" that have been in trouble the last couple of weeks or so?
Pee-wee Herman.
Principal Rooney.
Micheal Jackson-he's kind of an 80's icon, right?
Anyone else I forgot?

Who's next?
Hulk Hogan getting arrested for prostitution?
Alf for tax evasion?
Martha Quinn...um...I don't know...doing something? Anything?

I hated the eighties. I really did.

So, I Think...

That the "X" in "X-Mas" is a greek definition for Christ. So what does the "Mas" mean? Well, I know that it means "more" in spanish. So does that mean that if you're from a greek/mexican background that you're wishing everybody a Happy CHRIST MORE? More Christ? Mount Christmore? I don't need more Christ in my life, thankyouverymuch...

Anyway, I'm not that excited about Christ More coming up. I had some cool Christmasses (sp?) when I was young and when my weirdo parents were still together. Everything pretty much went to hell after I turned seven. A cute thing about my mother and father was that they thought that you had to have all of the Star Wars figures that were displayed in a little action panorama on the box. So they wouldn't quit until they found all of the figures. Every once in awhile, they couldn't find one and would apologize to me or my older brother and promise to find the figure after Christmas. My brother and I would say okay and give each other a look that said. Shut up. Don't tell them.

We all became pretty poor after my mother left. Then Christmas was always either a long-ass road trip to Texas or quiet mornings at our house. My father is a 5 a.m. riser. My brother and I were not. My brother was such a sleeper that if I tried to wake him up, even on Xmas-he'd tell me to fuck off and to leave him alone. The house smelled like coffee. My father always did the stockings kind of cool. Tangerines, Walnuts. Candy. Toothpaste, and as we got older underarm deodorant too. And a barbeque briquette. Ha Ha. Coal, get it? That was my Pa.

i'm gonna sneeezz.......ee....oh...okay maybe not....

Um...as I got older, I just started to ask for simple things because all kids want totally expensive shit when they start to grow up and most of us knew that we weren't going to get it. So we all just asked for a specific sweater, boardgame, skateboard-whatever. My father played Christmas music. That was always nice.

As I got older, older. I don't remember any Christmasses from sophmore year of high school on. I, by then, would usually try to get out of the house as soon as I could, to go hang out with friends. We'd wander around the city and not really do anything. I got booted after I turned eighteen ( did you see that coming? ), and all holidays became different. My older brother was already gone. I don't know where he was by then. My older half bro and sis always lived on the east coast. My father and sister moved to Texas. If I didn't visit my sister in Texas, I always spent the holidays in whatever dingy-ass apartment that I was staying in. My roomates would always leave to go to their parent's house and I had the place to myself. Which I grew to like. The day before, if I had the money-I would stock up on videos, beer and porn. No, just kidding-no porn. Maybe a t.v. dinner. A turkey one just for the poetic aspect of it. I'd write. I'd drink. It was actually kind of peaceful. My apartment complex was always deserted. Eerie, but nice.

After about seven p.m., a stray friend or two would start to filter in, usually laden with heaping amounts of leftovers for me. Friend's mother's always ask about me during the holidays-but my friends knew me so well they'd just tell their ma's that Kevynn likes to be alone for the holidays. It was never my choice, but I grew to like it. LOVE it. See, when my friends always came over to my place they were always tired because they had to drive some long-ass way away or put up with all of the family bullshit/talk/problems, etc. They were always itching to have a beer or something and by that time I was already drunk or happy that I got to go on a walk or write alot or watch a couple of movies.

So Christmas to me was never about family, it was just always a day ot two off of work and the chance to have a private Kevynn party. That's why I'm so low-key about it. I don't have to buy many presents. Just friend presents and that usually doesn't break you. Holidays are mellow times for me. Which is just the way I like it.

Now it's changed. I have a girlfriend. She has a family and now her family is my family. That's the way that it goes with them. And I like it. Im not ungrateful. They are all really cool and are very close-knit. I'm not used to it. Definitely not used to having to talk to grandparents and stuff for hours and having to eat around everybody and make polite talk and what-not. There is no way in hell I will ever be able to spend the holidays by myself anymore. Unless she breaks up with me or I chop off her head and throw it in a ditch or something. Like I said, her family is my family now, and I put up with her past and her crazy-ass upbringing-she has really put up with mine...
So I miss the old ones that meant nothing and now look forward to those that do, right?

I bought myself a Christmas present already...

You wanna see?

I'll Say This Before You Get All Busy On Me...

But I'm not excited about Christmas. Have I ever been? I don't know. Like all of us, I was back when I was a kid. But my yule tide cheer was probably due more to my expected Star Wars presents than anything else.

You know what?

I'll write this tomorrow...or in 10 hours or so. It's 4:18 a.m., "Herculoids" is on Cartoon Network. It's late. I'm glad today is over, I want to get back to that dream that I had last night. I was flittin' around, gliding more like it-like a vampire in a big mansion and had to sleep in the basement. I had a couple of close calls where I almost died in the mansion by falling off things and I remember that my friend's mother was in charge and didn't wan't me to be there. I remember looking at her butt and thinking that it looked out-of-shape.

Oh. I bought a big pack of candy canes at the store yesterday, That was my Xmas contribution. All of the grocery store employees were standing right by me and started to make fun of me because I had the candy canes, a 12-pack of beer, gummy worms, cigarettes, and cranberry juice. One guy asked where the vodka was and I said that it was at "their mama's!" One guy laughed. The other two didn't say anything. The checker girl just looked impatient.

I want to float around again.

bye.

I Swear....

I was going to sleep....

But There's an earthquake going on right NOW....

Whole lotta shakin goin' on, bee-yatch....



hmmmmmmmmmmmm......
i'm not kidding. This beer to my left is shaking....
That's why you should never go to sleep....look! the lamps are swinging a bit....
See? You miss all of the good stuff....

Insomnia Is Not A Stephen King Book Or An Al Pacino/Robin Williams Movie...

It's my life...BUT-

I am

Getting Kind Of

Tired, Doody-Fresh...

Thank You...