I Understand, Really...

So do you think I should join the protests in my city? Up one of the streets here, there are anti-war protesters on one side of the street and pro-war people on the other. You think I should join them? But, see...I'm kind of undecided on the whole war thing. Like everything, I can understand both view points and I feel both ways.

So, I want to start protests for the undecided.
We'll stand in the median in the middle of the street, right in between both groups of protesters. While both sides are yelling and chanting at us - we'll turn to them and smile, saying, “I know. Totally!" or "You're Stupid!" We can make up signs with big question marks on them. Hoist banners that say " Yes/No ".

Or we can just hold protests against pro-protesters...

What If Han Solo Was Bitten By A Radioactive Spider?...

I've been saving this stupid two dollar bill in my wallet and I need to spend it. I was thinking that it was for good luck, but considering that I have a broken ankle and no money now, I don't think that it was a good good luck charm at all. I've never really been the good luck charm type. I always figured that it was kind of a double edged sword. If something good happens, then it was because of charm. Something bad happens, then it doesn't apply to the charm's good luck conjuring ability. It reminds me of a story I read about the origins of why people cover their mouths when they yawn. First, nobody wants to see your choppers unless you're Amy Choppa. Second, I read that people used to cover their mouths because they were afraid of evil spirits entering their bodies. But on the other hand, you were screwed if you already had a demon in you and you kept on covering your mouth because then it really wasn't going to leave because you were blocking it's only escape route.

Moral of this story?

Absolutely nothing. If your ankle ever hurts and you take a Vicodin, don't try writing something.

Okay...

If you had the choice of being killed by a stalker or dying a lonely death - what would you choose?

Not that I have stalkers or anything...

Guess Who's Coming To Visit?...

Besides Ian. Oh, no...there's some haircutting going on in the bathroom, and I'm here at the computer, so I know I'm safe. And Ijazz, the pilot just asked me where to pee now that the bathroom has been overrun with girls butching? butchering? themselves, or their hair for that matter. Fuck, I forgot what I was writing about. People never can get it stright in their skulls that if you see a thin, feverish, imp clacking away at a device - don't bug them. If you destroy the mountain while it's being built, then you're gonna have a sand pile if you don't let the sediment pile up.

Oh, yeah...Google hits, anyone?

As of the last hour...

Spider Monkey Masturbating.
Horse Humping.
Overcooked McDonalds Hamburgers.

This is just in the last thirty minutes, folks...

Picture what I get in a month. You and all of your mammary gland, slightly robust, lactation fetishes, you sick bastards.

Fat Free Milk, indeed.

Ugh.

Spur Of The Moment...

Party here at my house, I guess.
You're more than welcome.
And I really needed it due to my inability to move or due anything productive,
so I might as well be unproductive in the company of friends and beer, right?

I almost fell in the flower bed in front of my house today.
I'm hanging out with my friend Ijazz. He's Indian, and he's a pilot.
His last name is something I find hard to pronounce.
He has been investigated by the F.B.I., so he's safe.
He once offered to drive me to Vegas. I didn't go.
When he was studying for flight school, he stayed with me and I caught him humpimg his girlfriend.
He looked like a brown lobster flailing out of water. His girlfriend just laughed.
Elvis Costello is guest-hosting Dave Letterman tonight.
My sister is boycotting Fat Free Milk because in my last post I called her a cunt out loud to my girlfriend.

Sindy, come back.

I need to pee.

Am I Bad?

I just called my mother a "Cunt".
I laughed about it, it just sounded funny.
And no, I didn't tell her that to her face -
I don't ever talk to her much.

The cunt.

Feel Like Venting?...

Go nuts. Leave a comment.
About Pepsi,
Puerto Ricans,
Frodo,
whatever's frustrating you today...

A Penny...

Nothing against him. I don't know much about 50 Cent except that he sings some songs that I like and that he was shot nine times and he used to be a drud dealer, blah, blah. He may be a saint, but I doubt it. Anyway, I was wondering...he gets shot nine times and lives. Somebody like JFK gets shot once, twice, or magic-bullet-whatever, and dies.

I'm gonna get Avril Lavigne to kick his ass.

A Glimpse Of Humanity...

You want to see some angry people?

Just watch traffic for a little bit...

Everybody needs to just calm the fuck down.

Reason Why I'm A Bad Boyfriend No. 364...

Girlfriend trying to rest in bed. I say that I'll put the TV on something good for her to fall asleep to.
I manage to tune into Animal Planet just in time so that she can watch a dog die.

S.O.S.

Beer...need beer.
No wonder all of the one-legged, broke cripples I know are clear-headed and sober.
They can't afford to get drunk anymore,
Or they can't make it to the store.

Little Bunny Foo Foo signing out...

And I'm Sorry, But...

Does this strike you as a little bit strange?
Take a really good look at their set up...
Can I log in to My Account for any new apocalyptic news?
The first new 20,000 subscibers get what?

There are certain things that exist on this Earth that make me wish there really was a hell....

Hell is other people.

Deserted Island, Pet, Movie, Book, Partner other than a significant other, Unlimited Food Item, And CD...

Why is everybody always trapped on an island? Why not in an abandoned silver mine? A retirement home. Anaheim? Or a Linkin Park concert?

Anyway, If I was ever trapped on a desert island and could bring a pet, it wouldn't be my dear, old cat, 60 - it would have to be a trained chimpanzee that liked to fish. If I could only watch one movie while I was there? You know, because all of those desert islands generate their own electricity and have TV's that only play one movie...it would be...Empire Strikes Back. Book? The Boy Scout Handbook Of America. Another person? Damn...Elizabeth Hurley without her kid. Unlimited food item? Food? tobacco doesn't count? Beer either? Steak, I guess. Cd?...something long of Beethovens.

All of these could change, though.

Hmmmm....

I Hate Lucy...

If I was Lucy, I would've thrown gay-ass Little Ricky out the window,
called the INS and had them deport my husband,
tossed a molotov cocktail inside Fred and Ethel's apartment,
and then run away with a short-haired lesbian named "Jo".

"Marsupials" Written By Tom Schmitt...

I kept hearing this scratching on the roof at night. It was central to the chimney, this weird clawing sound. I think that a family of possums are up there, scurrying back and forth, playing with their food, running in circles, whatever possums do when no one's watching, which is most of the time. I always thought that possums were rather slow creatures, but these bastards were nonstop, like they're drinking Red Bull. It's very annoying. And, of course, it's like they know I'm sleeping, so that's when they're the loudest. Actually, I hardly ever hear them during the day.
Yesterday, I got the grand idea to flush them out. My plan was to go up there with a broom and kind of knock them around a bit, show them who the boss was. This way, they would associate pain with being on my roof, thus, never coming back. (I didn't even think that if I pushed one down the chimney it'd be in my house, thank God it didn't come to that!) I went to the garage and got the broom and a ladder. I set the ladder up on the side of my house and climbed up, walking slowly over the shingles, thinking this way I wouldn't fall into my living room. My next-door neighbor, Mr. Seaver, was in his backyard raking leaves. I waved and said hello, told him "I was rounding up some possums," he laughed and said "good luck, be careful." I got to the chimney and looked around. I saw lots of bird shit, but no possums. Being at the peak of the roof, I stopped walking so lightly, and checked the other sides of the chimney. Again nothing. I then looked down the chimney, but all I could see was blackness. I grabbed the broom and stuck it down the chimmney, moving it back and forth, trying to dislodge something, when it slipped from my hand and fell down the chimney.
Apparently, in most chimneys, there is a bend in the construction, so that the flue is not totally straight. The broom fell about four feet and got stuck in the bend, I could see it's handle resting against the concrete. My first instinct was to say fuck it, and just go buy another broom. I never used my chimney, so I wasn't worried about the thing catching on fire and burning the house down. I started to walk away, but I couldn't do it. I just felt so stupid for dropping it down there. I came up to get those damn possums away, and then they took my broom? Fuck that. I was going to get it.
I turned around, brushed away some of the bird shit with the back of my hand, and pulled myself up a little bit so that I could get a better angle reaching the broom. I stretched my arm as far as it would go, but still couldn't reach it, so I scooted further on the chimney's lip. Again I couldn't reach it, again I scooted. It was at this moment, when I was half an inch away from the end of the broom, that my neighbor yelled, "Ya'll right up there, Sal?" and at that second, straining as much as I was for the goddamn broom, I got so distracted that I fell in the chimney.
I slid past the broom, and luckily I had my hands outstretched, and they helped break the fall when I hit the bend in the concrete. My dumbass neighbor (who probably yelled on purpose for a good laugh), saw the whole thing and also heard my girly yelp as I went down. He called the fire department and they came out and pulled me up by feet. The whole neighborhood ended up crawling out of the woodwork, pointing and gawking. The circus was in town and I was the main event. It took three firemen to pull me out, and they were kind, asking me if I was all right, but aside for my ego being bruised, I only had a few scratches. They watched me climb across the roof and down the ladder, making sure I didn't slip again and, this time, finish the job. Once I was on solid gorund, the firemen roared off in their truck and one by one, the neighbors disappeared. Embarrassed, I trudged inside, plopped down on the couch, and shook my head, wondering how I got this low.
Thankfully, after that day, I never heard the possums again. Perhaps, because I made such an ass of myself, they felt sorry for me and decided to cut me some slack. Whatever the reason, I was glad they were gone. Overall, although it has become a neighborhood myth, I'm not too scarred by the ordeal. I'm just pissed that I still left the fucking broom in there.

It's Alive!...

Way too much free time, so...the screenplays rise again. God help me.

*UPDATE*

I, so far, have accomplished absolutely nothing.
I watched something on TV about Picasso.
Ate a salad.
Showered on one leg.
Played a dumb game on the internet.
The stack of notebooks to my right is glowering at me.
The gods up on Mt. Productivity are laughing...

Freaky Sleep Stories...

I rarely do anything weird in my sleep. I never sleep, so it's not a problem. No, really - I don't do anything crazy in my sleep. No sleepwalking. I know a girl who likes to pee in closets in her sleep. That's why she never spends the night. I don't even snore. I do like to fall asleep to Empire Strikes Back, but that's not a sleep habit. Not really.

Okay, but check this out - I was almost asleep last night when my girlfriend started laughing. I looked at her and her eyes were closed. I whispered her name, but she just kept on laughing, it really scared the hell out of me. Friggin' spooky, man. Your girlfriend laughing demonically in the middle of the night?

That sucked. It took me a long time to get back to sleep after that because she still had a smile on her face.

Screaming Jay Hawkins...

So I barely posted at all yesterday because I had to go to the ankle/dude/guy/doctor/man. I arrived at nine in the morning so that I could wait there for an hour and a half. This type of crap happened to me at the dentist last week? If I make an appointment for a certain time, isn't that because that's a time...when they have time? Next week when the dentists office calls to confirm my new appointment, wait til I get a hold of them. Suffer. When the ankle/dude/guy/doctor/man finally saw me, he kicked me in the crotch. Now I have a cast on my penis. I'm not supposed to use it for six weeks. I killed him. No, he said I don't need a cast. That's great. I didn't have the money anyway. I have to go back for new x-rays in three weeks. Then, this splint thing can come off and I can go back to wearing high heels - oops! I meant, shoes again. I may be able to ditch the crutches and use a cane. Big daddy Kane? Michael Caine? Abel? Cain? Mmmmm, candy. I got a new splinty/casty thing, and can unwrap it whenever I want. I slept on my side last night. That was a little slice of heaven there, Bubba.

I am going nuts, though. I need to work. I need to do stuff.

One can only look up so much gothic porn.

Damn Pictures, Prizes, Poems, And Trinkets...

Okay. I was bored. I created an ego-driven contest about me, for me, and involving drinking and internet-scavenger-hunt-type shenenigans, and I had a lot of fun. Neat, neat, neat. And some people discovered new writers and made some new friends. This KM day was the bestest day ever.

I had a hard time dishing out the two Grand Prizes, so now they’re all Grand Prizes…

I need some addresses for:

ATL Superstar
Boz From The Grand Ennui.
Steve from Steve's Mental Spigot.
Kathy from Kazoofus.
Melissa from Coffee For One.
Danee from Diaries Of A Flame Dame.
Amy Choppa from Get To The Choppa!
And Cheeks from My Life As A Shaven Ape.

Email me at Kevynn75@hotmail.com

Did I forget anybody?

And can you send poo in the mail if it's in Tupperware?

Ill Communications...

Well, this sucks...

Winners will be announced pretty soon. I've just been gone all day at the ankle doctors and at my girlfriend's car place, and then we had to run a crapload of errands. I'm finally home, but am on obligatory phone conversation number one. It was daytime when I started talking. it's dark now. This is why I hate talking on the damn phone.

Getting Late...

I don't feel like turning into a dirty servant just yet...
So everybody list what KMD shite you accomplished...

The Grand Prize and the runner-up are waiting for ya' bee-yotch...

Totally Having Fun...

Now Al and Todd are here. Todd brought a digital camera for KMD, but I don't think that we can hook it up to my computer. Retarded, yes. I talked to Boz, Melissa, Steve, Danee, Pamela, Melissa's boss, who else did I forget? ATL Superstar. We were going to smear ash in the shape of a "K" on our foreheads. Beer number what? I don't know...

Have you seen the Ali G show?

Anyway, where's my weiners? I mean, winners?

Yelling...

"How many beers is that for you?" to Ian. I dont think he can hear me...
He took work off tonight. Last night Mr. Henry Rollins was reading at his work...
A gal I used to work for would get about a hundred Xmas cards for free every year.
She would donate to a school for handicapped people, and then would recieve free Xmas cards painted by them. Some had covers from people with no hands, etc.
My boss would always give them to me. So I would sometimes send them to random people. I would sign my name and let them wonder who the hell I was. I would send a card to Henry's publishing company, Black Sparrow Press, City Lights, and The Los Angeles Times...others I forgot...

It was fun...

I need to start doing that again....

Who's drinking?

AIM = bubbahotep 75

Basketball Diaries...

Ian just took one of my Vicodins.

So far my friends have taken more of these things than me.

I should set up a beer/prescription drug exchange...

Ian, Drunken ASSistant of Kevynn Malone Day Speaks...

salutations pussa-a-a-a-ys! i actually 'em getttin' to done be allowed to write on this internet thingy.totally sweet!I think were on beer 3 or 4 now and kevynn still hasn't given me any vicatins.what a cheapskate. I even bought the beer and everything.one good thing about k-day is that you get to eat free food made by his hippie girlfriend! yeah granola!another great thing about k-day and being thewhat is it? the drunken ASSassin? is that i got to poo, drink and read hellboy at the sametime in k. malones bathroom. I know it's not spiderman but it's better.stop hatin on opera baby that ish is f'in hilariuos.god save the V.