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...

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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...

Uneven Bedford Blazer...

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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?

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.

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.

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

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

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.

What I Learned From Today's Two Year Old...

We have the same sense of humor.

We don't have the same amount of energy.

We both like to poop.

NERD...

Shipping This Week: March 31, 2004

The following products are expected to ship to comic book
specialty stores this week. Note that this list is tentative
and subject to change. Please check with your retailer for
availability.


DEC030024 STAR WARS INFINITIES RETURN OF THE JEDI #4 (Of 4) $2.99
JAN040204 BATMAN #625 $2.25
JAN040290 HELLBLAZER #194 (MR) $2.75
JAN040298 MIDNIGHT MASS HERE THERE BE MONSTERS #3 (Of 6) (MR) $2.95
JAN040281 PLANETARY #19 $2.95
JAN040224 SUPERMAN #203 $2.25
JAN041528 PULSE #2 $2.99
JAN041532 SPECTACULAR SPIDER-MAN #12 $2.25
JAN041586 THE PUNISHER #4 (MR) $2.99
FEB042003 WIZARD COMICS MAGAZINE DAREDEVIL CVR #151 $4.99
JAN042287 SOJOURN #33 $2.95
NOV032277 TRANSFORMERS GI JOE #6 (Of 6) $2.95

The Great Brain And His Fascination With Water Closets...



I think that if you don't like books - you're retarded. Doi, you retard. I use this term loosely and in the nicest sense - and who is actually retarded? Somebody retarded or me who had to rewrite retarded twice already?

Seriously, I worry about people who don't have books in their house. It's kind of like the people who I know, when you ask them for a pen or a piece of paper - don't have one. How the hell can you not have a piece of paper to write on in your house? I don't really expect you to be like me and need the shit around - but...c'mon, man! What the hell? At least tell me that you keep some around just in case you run out of toilet paper. Tell me that the only reason that a pen's around is to scratch yourself where your bathing suit covers.

I've noticed that the first thing that I do when I'm in a house that I haven't been in before is to go and check out their books. Everybody else talks and jabbers in the background while I sit there, usually with my hands clasped behind my back and my neck tilted to the side like the famous RCA dog. Thoughts flit through my head like miniature judgment butterflies. It's so interesting, but becomes like a check list to me. Crap, crap, crap, oh-shit-really-bad-ass, my-god-horrible, never-read-that, meant-to, who-the-hell-is-that type of list.

I like to borrow too, but hate when others borrow from me. I used to lend out everything that I had because I was excited to share things that I'd read with others. That's dead and gone now folks, because I realized that people lag on giving the crap back. I end up not being able to find it later. Bastards. So, no more library. No more Clifford The Big Red Dog for you.

First time that I met my friend, Baxter, and after he told me how that I didn't look like a gook and that he expected me to look like Charlie Chan after hearing so much about me - we both ended back at his place after the bars, and were waiting for all the rest of our freaky friends to show up. While he was getting me a beer and doing some things, I checked out his book selection. I remember liking the Hunter S. Thompson, early Kerouac, and Bukowski stuff - but hated his Tom Robbins and politics books. He came out of his kitchen and found me stomping up and down on a pile of the books of his that I didn't like and had thrown to the floor. This is how bold I am. This is how stupid I am. This is how drunk I get. This is how lucky I am that Baxter is a Scottish pacifist lush. My life is full of Great Escapes. Steve McQueen would be jealous.

I feel that everybody should have books. We all need shelves full of crap that interests us. It's cool and exciting to look through somebody else's stuff and to get a feel for them, to see what they like, to see what they hate, and what they're into. You can learn a lot from a person from their books. If you don't have any, then I end up having to talk to you more before we can get into something that piques my curiosity. We don't want me bored because the idle Kevynn is The Devil's plaything. I'm like Satan's dildo when I'm bored, and with batteries of plutonium. That's bad. Not good.

So. I encourage everyone to buy books. Or if you have a ton - to buy more, cuz it cuts the tension like thin paper does the tip of a finger, it encourages conversation better than Coke. It makes me happy. It makes writers happy. Babies smile when books are read. Babies poo when they aren't.

If you were really nice, you'd tell me ten books that you think kick ass.

And if I were...I wouldn't have written this post for you to read.

Santa Clara Vampires...



My girlfriend rented Mona Lisa Smile last night.
I fell asleep and had nightmares about Julia Roberts being a vampire...
I mean, maybe that isn't so bad to some - she is kind of sexy...
In a Fun House mirror kind of way.

Even When I'm Dead...

I doubt I'll get enough sleep.