And The Slow Days Do Nothing To Erase The Constant Changes In Your Face...

and he asked himself
quietly
and politely

to
Stop for a second.

what
what's wrong?
don't bother me
I'm busy
y' see?

No. I don't see.
I see what you don't - and more.
This is the reason of my being. I am the outerworldy essence that exists within you. The outsides of your insides that we all hope that you may, one day, spread to others in your outside world.

I'm not really getting what you're saying, man. You seem like a nice guy and all - but...I'm, kinda like, really doin' a lot of things right now, y' know? Maybe I'll have some time later or sumthin'...

No. You won't. I know this, have seen it...lived it. That is why I speak to you now. I see you. Know you. Am you. I am THE OLDER you. The FUTURE YOU.

......really? Wow. Cool. Huh. Ummm...so, are you, like - rich yet?

(sigh).........

Racecar Backwards...

Just caught myself not knowing what to say on the phone because I was so distracted with something stupid on the computer and just got home from work early and called somebody but couldn't remember who the hell I called so the recording was blank until I said...uuuhhhhh I don't know who this is - but this is Kevynn and...I know I was calling to play poker, so I hope this is somebody that likes to play. Bye.

Things I Hate To Do...

Why does it seem that I know everybody else a lot better than they know me?

Nothing Compares...To You...



Sometimes, I wanna shave my head. It only happens when I'm drunk. I don't know why. Maybe I look at myself in the mirror and feel ashamed. Maybe the monastic and shamefully anti-bacchanal part of me rears its ugly pun-intended head. Or maybe it's because that my friend Tony has a pair of clippers always lying about in his bathroom and every single time that I'm at Tony's - I'm totally wasted.

Mommy And Daddy...Thanks, Raymi...

That's the second cool band that I've found on her website.

Sometimes you discover the best things when everybody else is sleeping.

Axe-murderers, Owls and The Chupacabra know what's up.

It can make one feel old against the squinting glare of the alarm-clocked LED display when you realize that sporadic moments of creative discovery, loud music and writing madness happen when the next work day looms overhead like Pennywise's true galactic form. Stupid spider.

If that didn't make sense, I'll make it so.

I miss writing on paper.

Enough with missing shit and on to dissing shit.

Enough with submissing and on to the next mission.

And They Should...

carry our bodies down by the river after we die. There, they will bathe us, wrap us in fine silk and then let the slow currents whisk us away. They'll watch until we're out of sight - we might get snagged by a jutting rock or a stray bush branch - then, they'll wade into the cold water and free us from the tangles. They'll hope for unimpeded progress down the river...either that, or a peaceful descent down to the river bottom.

Either way...out of sight, out of mind, out of their hands - into someone else's.

Straight down the middle.

Or a slow descent to the bottom.

Either way is fine.

Godspeed.

Knights Of The Old Republic...

I type this without my glasses. Without SPECTACLES, which is the Greek god of sight. Without TESTICLES, which is the Greek god of fertility. I am performing The Seven Labors Of Kevycles. But I keep on getting distracted. This is getting easier to do now. Too easy.

Everything is easier to not do now. Should I start worrying?

Even italicizing that one word took effort.

Typing italicizing made me feel triumphant.

Even typing makes me feel triumphant.

I Am Walter Mitty's Lack Of Realism...

Pretty much every Chrsitmas, I would at least, get a couple of records from my dad. The Adventures Of The Lone Ranger, Robin Hood, Disney's Haunted Mansion, Grimms Fairy Tales, Etc.

Mt favorite though, was a record completely narrated by Danny Kaye. He did all of the character voices for storied like The Something Something Musicians Of Bremen, some skit about peas in a kettle, and something about...oh wait-yeah, he did Rumplestilskin too. Tons of stuff, and he was funny. It had sound effects and the whole deal. This is the type of stuff that I would listen too. Swiss Family Robinson, songs, limericks, blah blah.

I would sit in the dark sometimes and just imagine everything that was going on. I would sing. What else was there to do im my room besides listen to crap on the record player and to play with all of my Star Wars Figures.

I think that my father's record gifts made a huge impact on my life. I can think of nothing better for a kid. Sitting and imagining pictures and settings in your head because you want to. I got outside a lot though, so don't be a buttmunch. I had a surprisingly active lifestyle considering how crappy my parent were.

But I DID have a lot of wonderful books, records and cartoons at my disposal when nobody else would pay attention to me. There's no point to this. I was thinking about a title while driving home after bartending tonight. A girl from Days Of Out Lives, one of the guys from The Wonder Years - one of Kevin Arnold's friends shot the shit with me for a while, and my friend who's related to Johnny Carson came in. Different night tonight. But, anyway - as I was driving home from work and then from buying beer that I will probably only drink two of - I started thinking about Walter Mitty and Danny Kaye.

And noe I'm thinking about more beer, a snack and popping in some good background noise while I sleep the sleep of the just.

The I will wake up for the second job at 9 am - and then will utilize all of my Walter Mitty-ness. I will use a common fountain pen's componets to help repair medical machinery to save a mans life. I will think about Batman and Jason Todd coming back from the dead. I will think of the cast of charcters in two screenplays that I've written that I can never get a final draft of. I will be thinking Emperor Palpatine and pricks of the finger on golden spindles.

fafdfdsahjfdsje

Even Though...

I've lived in OC/LA almost all of my life -

I have no idea where I live.

I don't know cities.

I don't know freeways, I don't know how to get anywhere.

I once tried to go to a AAA (not AA), and wound up at Disneyland.

I always ask about city names and where it is, even though I've been everywhere.

I don't pay attention. Maybe I should. I spent a couple of summers going to the beach all of the time and would now need a Thomas Guide to get there. I get nervous and start to sweat if I end up driving more than twenty minutes.

I have never driven to LA by myself, even though I've driven to San diego, Joshua Tree, San Jose and Las Vegas.

I don't know anything.

Everybody can do things that I can't.

Yet, I've travelled at least through half of the US by myself.

Dichotomous dickhead w/no, or a great sense of non-direction?

Lazy? Yes.

Funny? Yes.

Hopeful? Yes.

Helpless? ALWAYS.

A Paypal Donation Of $2.95 Will Get You...

A personalized secret from me.

This will be something that I haven't told anybody else. Ever.

Hopefully this will not be forwarded or used as blackmail to my girlfriend.

I have a lot of secrets.

Paypal link on the left, lover...hubbahubba

Ten dollars will get you the gay ones.

The link is on the left, bubba...

I Am The Lonely Creature In The Dagobah Swamp...

The clock ticks by slowly at work. Five pm seems very far away. You think of all of the cool things that you could be doing right now even if you don't actually do any of them when you get home. The grass is always more exciting on the other side of the fence. I have friends who will smoke your lawn. I need to close the door. Somebody turned on the air conditioning. Time to smoke. When I do that - my phone will ring. I bet you. Watch......

If You...

Had a boring time at a strip club tonight,

would you chalk it up as a mistake -

or still as a success?

Don't Make Me Turn This Car Around...



Okay. That's it.

I think I'm ready to go now.

To your town, country, island, whatever.

I'm ready to leave. Just let me pack some booze and arrange storage rental for my comic books, toys and girlfriend. Not necessarily in that order of preference.

If you want to sell me on why I should move to a place that you know of...

Please - let me know.

Hurry.

Thanks.

I Am...

Not the security guard singing Al Green to himself at 3 am as I was leaving work.

Weird sentence, I know.

Weird, lonely job? Yes.

Worse than bartending? Yes.

Impossible? Apparently not.

Peter Porker - Spider Ham...

If somebody sends you an invite to a BBQ in Santa Monica this Saturday and you don't have any idea as to whom it's from? Then you must go. You'll have more fun, or at least there will be a hint of surprise as you're driving there. Who am I kidding? I don't drive far. I think I'll have to ask around - but I get the feeling that I just don't remember the person telling me in person because I was drunk at the time. Big surprise.

Fig Newton And The Nature Of Garvity...

I'm getting to be a big bore.

I think that I may have to get so drunk tonight - that I poo my pants.

That should liven things up a bit.

Roaches Have No Karmic Value...

I killed two spiders the other day. One, I felt guilty about and the other - I didn't.

The first fought valiantly. I needed to shower, though. I, at first ran water from the spigot, but the big fucker clung on to the sloped sides with dear life...

fuck - I'm being interrupted...

girlfriend and birthdays parties....

bite me.

You Ruined My Night, Jen - I'm Going Home...

This is what i just heard. Now Im listening to fat Free Radio. Chris Rock is bagging on The Trenchcoat Mafia. I just got kicked out of the bathroom at Jen's house. All of the girls are naked and talking about what they think is wrong with their bodies. They actually kicked me out. This is wrong. Everybody I have known - male or female has seen every part of my body. My mother hasn't even seen me naked as much as my gal friends. So...I'm offended. Like I haven't seen anything of theirs. I streaked in front of two of them last weekend. Nakednakednaked. One small hand covering one small package. I must stop, because this is not my computer - and feels weird.

Jason Todd...

If the stupid cat never would've run out in the first place - he never would've gotten his ass kicked. Now he has three functioning legs. This is either sad for the cat, or tempting to a hungry Vietnamese. Or both.

Poppies...

I am in limbo, am at my new second job, behind a desk, trying to be productive. Trying not to twiddle my thumbs. The boss is on vacation and I'm here all alone. This is very strange.

Who Created Ultron?...



I've never had any idea what I was doing. I've never had a plan. I've never fully dedicated myself to anything. And if I said that I had it all figured out - I was lying.

I hope that whatever I'm doing works because I don't want to be content eighty years from now. I want everything NOW. I want to be floating out on a lake, on a boat. Drunk, sun-burned and singing. Nobody will ever know that I killed her. They would never think to look on the lake bottom. But, I'll keep the head as a souvenir. And if the power goes out in the freezer? Who knows. There are always stores that sell ice, right?

I don't know what that was all about.

You get tired sometimes, sometimes you're too lazy too erase or fix shit - because what's the point? You like it. You hate it. You like it better later, hate it more later, etc.

I killed two spiders today. That seems a bit excessive, doesn't it? One I felt sorry for and one I didn't. I'll explain to you why if you ask me.

I want to stay inside forever. I'm sick of talking to people. I want to be Eric Stoltz from MASK, John Travolta from The Boy In The Bubble and Boo Radley from To Kill A Mockingbird all wrapped up into one. I'm probably a bit more Howard Hughes, though. Just without the immense wealth. doh. I don't know.

Ojo...

am content as an outside cat is when you feed it.

Stan Lee As Willie Lumpkin...

Green lantern. Green Hornet. Green Arrow. All superheros. All stupid names. And trust me, in the nerdy comic book world - there's a lot of them. Even the names that are supposed to sound cool suck. Call me...Deadpool! Lame. Actually, there was an older comic book character name Magnus:Robot Fighter. Now that's okay. It's kind of funny too. Because I automatically know what this guy does. He fights robots. That's what I'm going to say next time that somebody asks me what I do for a living. I'm going to tell them that -

-I'm a robot fighter.

-Ha. Wait...what?

-I fight robots.

-What'd'ya mean, like you build them or something?

-No. You're not listening. I fight them. I'm the best. I don't even need gloves or nuthin' too. Arrgghhh. Beep!

Green Arrow dresses like Robin Hood. Gay. He shoots arrows. GayGay.

Green Hornet. Stupid name. Why a green hornet? Is he sick? Why not the Ass-Stinging Hornet? Sounds more threatening. Maybe the You-Might-Be-Allergic-To-Me-Hornet. More life-threatening.

Now, Green Lantern seems like a nice guy and all. Especially now that they've brought him back from the dead and, but - Green Lantern? First, if you're a normal person then you don't know this guys origin and why the hell he's called that. He powers up his super duper green power ring with a green-colored lantern. Wow. Neat. But if he's named after the thing that he gets his power from, then isn't that kind of like Batman calling himself The Yellow Utility Belt?

Lame. Nerd lame. No spellcheck lame. No nerdcheck.

Tad Hamilton...

I just called myself an "ass-munch" for not putting more cokes in the fridge.

I must be really pissed off.

Me llamo Legolas...

I have an uncanny knack when it comes to archery. Blame it on the dad who was a Boy Scout/YMCA/Army/secret government agency/all-American Rambo. I received an archery set as a kid, I remember - but I don't remember anything else but trying to shoot my dickwad brother with it.

For Xmas, I asked my girlfriend for some arrows and asked for her to string the bow that I got for free from a friend from work. I love her even more because she hung out with fat, white, camo vest-wearing hunters while the work was being performed.

Tonight, I was hanging out with a couple of YOUNG friends that I know through work. Ten years younger. I told them that I was like Legolas. And I am. I can always hit any target that I want to whenever I call it. I have a bale of hay that the girl bought me too. I got six bullseyes out of six tries. That's how gifted I am. I can do this now if you ask me.

I think I'm good. I know I'm boasting, but...

THIS IS IT? I'm good at archery?

Fucking archery?

Not math. No, I don't have a photographic memory. I am not Stephen Hawking's evil twin. I am not Radiohead. I am not Da Vinci. I am talented - but swiss cheese talented.

I can shoot an arrow wherever I want.

This is my luck.

Way too fucking late too.

I am an Idiot Savant.

Heavy on the idiot.