The Reverse Sleepy Gonzalez...

Wow, another lost post? WTF was I on anyway?!?



Cryptic enough, isn't it all? Reverse, reverse!!! Now Charlie Brown...

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, or deadens you a little more to the pain. Experience is an anesthetic, and knowledge a crux. To be blissfully numb to it all like the rest of you. I will soon blossom, or my wings will be torn from me. As usual...

I'm starting to believe I was meant to fail, to come crashing down, again and again. I have felt like I do since I was able to feel. Or remember...

I want to evolve, or better yet, DEVOLVE. The Soft Parade has now begun. Listen to the engines hum. People out to have some fun. Cobra on my left...

Leopard on my right, yeah. Out of sight, the lights are getting brighter.

Tropic corridor, tropic pleasure, what god has this brought to this mild equator.?

We need something to get us through, yeah come on!!!

Calling on the dogs.

Unfortunately, there are still a few animals, left out in the yard, and it's getting harder...

to decide. Strangers...

Collage Fromage Homage...

Wow, something I guess I didn't post from way back in the wayyyyy back. Maybe I did. Who da fuck knows?
Another medley of pictures lurking in the void. Uncle Jimbo surfaces again to take control of the nether regions using only his nether regions. Ronbone and Bobo can only watch in eager titillation.
"And anticipation..."
Of what is to come when the transformation and the coronation are complete!!! The mark of JIMBO will be upon us all by then.
"Let the Baptism of Jism begin!!!"
Yet there is another who could stop this. Would he not come forth and claim his more rightful and benevolent place among the heavens? He is of the blood of Bobo, turtlekin, and yet to be revealed in this storyline.
But soon the gears will begin to turn, setting off the mechanism for which will bring in a new era, one of wonderful tragedy and gleeful melancholy. The sound of the bones of the unworthy crunching underfoot will be sweet music to behold. A darkness will fall as to dampen even the most abundantly fueled flame.
"The Battle of Brothers has begun!!!"

Feed, You Must...

 Hi, everyone and no one...
Checking in. Let's see: the world is a giant shit sandwich and I continue to nom nom on them on a daily basis. Uhhhhh, tired alot lately. Irritable. Moody. Whiny bitch.
Anyhoo, on episode 16 or 17 of Scrubs. Probably won't get any more done since today I'm just not feeling it. Dying to see the new episode of Walking Dead...

Mmmmmmm, flesh. I'm sick of people always saying/thinking that zombies crave brains in particular. It's all about the flesh and bone...
Admittedly, I could live with a zombie apocalypse. As long as I could get to my loved ones first, and spirit them away to somewhere safer. My luck I'd get bit right out of the gate. Or not...
As far as shooting them, no problemo. I could give a flying fuck if I knew them before. Family would suck, though. Not sure how I'd fare. Personally, I'd want to come back and wander the planet if I screw the pooch and get turned. I mean... why not?!?
I've told my kid that if I died, unless I'm going to be a danger to her, then just let me somewhat live.
It'd be cool to see how far I got. Would I just stick to the old haunts, or would I/could I end up in a totally different part of the world?
Questions and queries and yodas and shit...
You know, I used to write poetry. That's like saying, "Did you know I used to be gay?"
Ha!
Most of it was drivel. I tend to speaketh in ten dollar words, or just end up berating GAWD for my own failings. These days, I can't even finish a sentence before I go back and erase it from my memory banks forever. I wonder how much of his own poetry Jim Morrison recorded vocally. The rest of the gang should do another album of that schnizz.
The bomb diggity, it was...

You're Probably Wondering Why I'm Here...

 And so am I, so am I.
Listening to Frank Zappa interviews from over the years, mainly extremely long ones where he really lets loose. Too bad most of the interviewers had no clue who they were even dealing with. Stupid questions for a man above most of what got flung his direction. ..
Were I given the chance to interview him, I'd need some time to not only compose myself, but not foolishly squander our time together. I wonder how he'd get along with today's Johnny Rotten, or for the old one for that matter.
Either way, he'd have been an awesome President methinketh...

Gotta respect the guy, though I personally love the shit out of him myself. Rare bird, a true genius.
We haven't had anyone of his caliber for a few decades. Nowadays, people worship a goofy twat like Lady Gaga with her meat dress, or whatever the fuck it twere...
Weehaw, Obama versus Romney in a battle of epic flippity flop floop. Who cares, though I know who I'm voting for personally...
Anyhoo, gettin' the schwoop schwoop on right now.
Ok, just came back from watching a little of the debate. I wish Frank was there to mop the floor with whoever, even easily both at the same time. So now back to your regular programming of cheese and whine.
The well is now officially dry.

Scrub-A-Dub-Dub-Step...

 Deep in thought? Fashionably pensive?
Nahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...
Deciding between sliders and somewhere that has tacos on their all you can eat buffet?
Perhaps, but not really. More likely, I'm not thinking at all. Or trying not to...

I will preface my next insightful comments by saying this picture of Frank was taken without his permission. Can't a dirty freak take a shit in peace? So anyhoo...
What I'm trying to say is that no matter how hard I might try to look like the first picture of Mr. Thinker, I end up looking like crap taking crap.
Of course, I'm not saying Frank is crap. You know what I'm saying...
I want an island, or somewhere deep in Montana, where I can raise me a crop o' dental floss.
I will only communicate with the masses via Skype, or whatever tickles my fantasy.
Until I am no longer at odds with the rest of the world...
Then would I return to claim my throne.
The Prince of Lies...
King of Nothing...
Fool.

I often wonder if I am just that. Then delusions of grandeur kick in. That's what they feel like after awhile, but are they?
I find it hard to believe it is ME all the time.

I saw Total Recall this weekend. It was surprisingly good, just minus the awesome cheese of Arnold Schwartzenblahblah. Also surprising is that I'd recommend it, very actiony...
Also saw The Possession, which sucked balls. If you suck balls metaphorically, then this is for you.

Other than that, just hanging in there. Fighting the demons in my head; sometimes winning, sometimes not so much. All you can do is keep punching. Right now, for some reason, everything I type just isn't working for me. You ever get that feeling? Just...
Nothing. Nothing to share, nothing of worth anyway.
Writer's block!!!
Wish it was contagious, and I had a sweet DeLorean that time traveled, I'd go back in time and give Stephen King a deadly dose of it.
Sorry, I'm rereading It. I find myself skimming the silly drivel he lays on pretty thick. I bet he was a complete doof. Nobody probably liked him, and he probably talked to himself, wishing bad things on them. Maybe Carrie is a wishful autobiography, and he'd love to be the Prom Queen, or was it homecoming? I don't remember...
I'm just saying he's not even 1% of all the praise heaped on him. He just wrote alot of dirty words, threw in some wishful sex, and BOOM...
Young teens hanging on his every word. Genius, I'll admit, but in the end kind of dumbs down a few generations in the process. Clive Barker blows him away. I love Cabal.
Anyway, enough rambling. I'm watching Scrubs with my kid and we are on episode 14 of season 1, a very long way to go. I will keep up the tally as I post later. We might even eventually get all the way through them.
It's an ok show, I'm not enthralled by it, but it's decently watchable so far...