Diseased Dogs of Christmas, and other Stories

So, this is how it is....as soon as I finished making my desk, my laptop felt it was time to quit on me. Nice. Seems that it decided it was done having working memory. Ok, no problem, I still had my desktop to set up....just a minor setback.
But I wasn't aware that both my systems were in a suicide pack together. After setting up the desktop, it felt fit to stab itself in the videocard. Sweet! Two dead computers sitting on a beautiful new desk.

I'm writing this from work, of course. Bah!

This is just a quick blog to let you all know why I've been missing in action for a while now, and to wish everyone a late "Merry Christmas" and a special late "Happy Birthday" to Shoobeedoobeedoo.

For the record, I have finally purchased a new video card as of last night, and plan to instal it tonight, along with a complete reinstal of windows and all my apps. If all goes well, I'll be ordering internet for home this week.

I hope al is well with everyone, and Happy New year and all that jazz.

Ignoring the Attention Stone....

Ok, it seems that my ability (or honesty) in making a new work table has come into question by several of you.....specifically, Rachael, who has seen fit to post her own blog about it and about me as well. So, fine. I will document the damn thing's construction here for all you naysayers, and sayers of nay, which are one in the same regardless of what your shirt says.

First came the donated dresser of questionable condition. This dresser was given to me by my friend Kristen who joined the army and therefore would never need clothes again that didn't blend with her surroundings. I decided that it would make a good base to one side of the desk after moving into my new place which has enough closet space to make all donated dressers of questionable conditions obsolete. But, seeing as it's condition was questionable (at best), I took it upon myself to give it a work over that included repairs as well as several coats of enamel.

You might notice the drawers in the background, lining the hallway. At that moment they had been freed from their terrible handles and plugged with a wood putty, left to dry.

Here they are after several coats of enamel as well.....keep in mind, every coat of enamel added took 24 hours to properly dry.....then a light sanding before the next coat could be added. This is to ensure that the carpenter (in this case, me) remains high for several days, considering that this was all done in the small room in which I sleep.

Above is yet another pic of the donated dresser of questionable condition in it's last stage of repair and refinishing. This was after the last coat was added....at this point, I was able to talk to the walls.....and they would answer back.

The finished dresser, without the drawers added yet.

At this stage I was still debating on what to do for the other side of the desk. I was considering propping that side up on shelves and making support legs for it, but I still hadn't made up my mind....I was still high from the enamel fumes.
I did have the good fortune to come across the best possible solution when visiting the GoodWill that just opened on South Broadway. It turned out that a nearby Chase Bank branch decided to aquire all new furniture, and donated all of there old desks and whatnots to the new thrift store. I purchased a desk (that also came with a side table that I'm able to use for a new drawing table top to replace my Mayline that was destroyed) and a credenza. Both were in fair enough condition, that is, I could easily make them look better. Dark cherry stained. The drawback was, I didn't have a truck. So I had to disassemble them in the parking lot with a philips head screwdriver in order to load them into my car, haul them home, and then reassemble them in my new place. Then I passed out.

Above is the new desk somewhat assembled. You can see the Chase Bank desk during it's stage of drawer repair (which I'm happy to say was a success). I left the original desktop off because it was only 20 inches deep, and not big enough for what I needed. I bought two unfinished doors to use as new desktops. After putting them on top I then had to spend an hour or two adjusting both sides (the dresser and the desk) so that they were both level as well as the same hight.

The desk's original table top is seen above as the new top to my shelves. The credenza had, at this point, yet to be reassembled, because I passed out.

Here's the shelves with the new credenza reassembled and used as their base. You can also see here that I finally received my shipment from PA consisting of my books and my antique bedside tables.
And then I passed out.

Next came the tedious task of staining the door-desktops. I chose a cherry stain...and as I am writing this, I have already done four coats. This is just slightly easier than painting the donated dresser, in that this stain only takes six hours to dry in between coats. I wanted to document one of these steps for you here, so before I stumbled into the coffee house to write this I added the fourth coat.

First, we start with some cocaine:

Then I have to sand the now dry layer of stain with a fine sandpaper:

Followed by going over it again with an even finer steel wool:

Then, more cocaine!

Next comes the task of wiping it down with a t-shirt that I will never use again, which makes me think that I should have just bought some rags:

And finally, the fourth coat of stain is added. The stain is actually a cherry stain and clear coat mix, which not only helps with a better protected and glossy finish, but makes the room I'm working in so volatile with poisonous vapors that I usually pass out:

The vomitting usually begins shortly after I come to with my face stuck to the recently stained section of table:

Next, we do more cocaine!

....and then more vomitting, usually:

I realize that I have said that I am near finished with this damn desk many times in the past, and the truth is that with every step shown above, I am THAT much closer to getting it done. But the truth is also that this has been a fairly time consuming task, kept slower by the fact that I have to work everyday, the trip taken to KC around Thanksgiving, and obscene cocaine abuse!
This is where it stands right now: the desktop needs one (maybe two) more coats of the stain...and it's drying a coat right now. The next coat will be added tomorrow morning before I go to work. After the staining is completed, I still plan to give it a few coats of polyurethane, at least two, but more than likely anywhere up to three or four. That will be a slightly longer process due to longer drying times, more vomitting than before (the vapors are far worse)....and I'm out of cocaine.......
I have held off getting an internet connection until this project is done, not only due to the fact that I'm poor and don't want to start paying for the service until this is all said and done, but I honestly have nowhere else to work until the desk is completed...so having the online capability there right now IS a moot point.

And for those of you who have stayed patiently with me during this time (and this blog post in particular), I present you with a little added bonus.....a pic of my brother and his fiance', Corrine:

Pubic Hairs in the Butter Dish.....

I am a terrible person. I have an odor that is close to that of cheese that has been sitting in the side of your sink, slowly becoming rubbery and refusing day after day to be flushed down with the tidal of hot water. I have been known to think about scratching children's eyes out with claws that nature never seemed fit to gift me with. I sneeze at unattended sandwiches. Sometimes I laugh maniacally when I make a poop.

I am a terrible person. I refuse to shower every single day. I agreed with a girlfriend over and over that Yes, that outfit made her look fat, mainly because I was tired of hearing the question.....and because that outfit DID make her look fat. I hate squirrels. Sometimes I do things for no other reasons than I was told NOT to do them.

In this blog post, I am a terrible person due to the fact that I have remained absent for so long. Yes, I keep threatening to return to my postings about pubic hair in the butter dishes, or whatever mindless things it is I write about after my fifteenth cup of coffee (I'm only on my 4th right now, and still somewhat lucid), but as of yet I have obviously not come through with such threats. I am a terrible person.

I am a terrible person, also, for the added bonus of being awful at keeping in touch with people. Not only have I avoided blogging, but I have put off responding to those who have contacted me with wellwishes as well as threats. In all honesty, the original excuse still holds, that being the one where I say that I have no internet access of my own yet and am at the mercy of walking my gear down to the coffee house to make outside contact.....but in all honesty, even I am growing sick of that one. I have half a mind to write myself an angry letter asking myself what the hell my problem is and why don't I speed the process up and was it me who sneezed on my sandwich making me sick last week?! But I know better than to write such a letter....I know I won't respond to it. I am a terrible person.

So, I will take this opportunity to extend yet again the same promise, that I will soon get my office up and running here in the near future and update you all on why I love Denver, why I hate squirrels, and what I've been working on........ect.

I hope everyone is well, and by well I mean 'not dead' and not Canadian'.

I am Not Quite Killed in the Face Just Yet......and the Regional Vagina

"Have you gotten any of that Colorado pussy yet?"
I've heard this question far more than I would like to admit, seeing as just once is already way too much. Have I gotten any of that Colorado pussy? Honestly, I wasn't even aware that the female anatomy was prone to geography (barring Asian Vagina, which everyone knows is sideways) and find myself wondering what makes Colorado pussy, Colorado pussy.
"Have you gotten any of that Colorado pussy yet?"
This question usually comes from either my uncle or my uncle's close male friends (and one lesbian friend). No, I have to admit.
"Well, what the hell is the matter? If I was your age I'd be knee deep in it!" (or some variation on the same point)....which has led me to the realization that as you age you slowly become delusional! The thought that being my age would mean that I should be beating the women away with a hatchet or something, or that I could find myself in the mood and just open my door and point, "You and you, now!"
Or that as I get older I might be more prone to seriously give up on being somewhat human and just objectify women entirely. "I used to like good company, but now I just like the 'box'"......
"Have you gotten any of that Colorado pussy yet?"
No, sorry....I'm still hung up on that Nebraska Cock.


Ok, enough of that.
So, I sincerely had the good intentions of writing this here update yesterday, but got sidetracked by more desk building fun and errands.
Here's the quick summary. I have finally moved into my own place in what is known as the Wash Park neighborhood. I had absolutely no furniture so I've been in the process of refurnishing my life, with a combination of new and built items (one of the built items happens to be my replacement desk, which has taken upon itself to slowly kill me.....no really! I awoke to it strangling me the other night!). I have been taking pictures of the process and plan to share them soon, when I get more than a few minutes of internet and can resize and upload them and all that crap. Bah! I need to get my desk done and my own internet. Bah!

As many of you have asked, yes that was me in the zombie outfit from the last post. To unwind from the crazy schedule of work, working, moving and what not, I spent Halloween dressed as the zombie vagrant and walked around Denver looking for change or brains.....I got neither. My brother followed me to take some pics of the experience:

Coincidentally, my brother and I have decided to make this a pet project of ours. He plans to dress as Darth Vader next and pan handle......maybe we'll make a coffee table book of such things? Hmmmmm.

As for right now, I'm going to try to catch up on the month and a half of messages that I have yet to answer and then pack up and head for the new home.

I am Not Quite Killed in the Face Just Yet......or Yet.......Part 3

Alright damnit! Honestly, I had intended on writing a long blog giving you all the rundown of what's been going on since last I wrote, but I still don't have an internet connection of my own and the coffee house that I'm currently at will be closing in just a bit, so I'm forced to leave you with this small image:

I will try to write a real post tomorrow at some point, seeing as I finally have a day off....Weeeeeeeeeee!
Until then, I hope this blog finds you all well, unless you are Billy Donald......suck it Billy!! You bitch!

I am Not Quite Killed in the Face Just Yet......or Yet.......Part 2

Alright, so I'll try to write a little more.............there, I did.

I am Not Quite Killed in the Face Just Yet......or Yet.......

First of all, let me take this opportunity to apologize to everyone other than Billy Donald for being away for so long. I have so many emails to respond to, blogs to catch up reading, showers to take....that I don't even know where to start..........so I won't! Ha! Goodbye!

Updates on Serious Blood Loss...

Forging Bronze Dog Innards

So, needless to say, I am back in Denver.....so let's pretend that I never said it. All in all, the trip went better than expected, and I have to say that I am actually surprised at the amount of stuff I still possess. When you put everything that you own into storage, you tend to forget about the big picture of your possessions and create a summarized version of things in your head. Granted, all my furniture is still gone, as is all my artwork done over the past 15 years.....but I knew that. But going through the mess of boxes turned up a treasure chest of things that I forgot that I owned. All the little odds and ends, kitchen stuffs, and what nots. If it wasn't for this nice surprise I do believe that I would have gone through with the plan of stabbing a complete stranger....but instead, I had to just let said stranger go.
So, needless to say, I am back in Denver.....with my car (which is amazing, I just have to say, not only for the amount that it could carry, but how well it carried it all all the way back here) and a full car-load of stuffs.
I actually have enough surviving possessions that I was unable to get everything here in just one trip.....I'm willing to say that I made it here with just about HALF....which means that I now need to formulate another plan to get the rest sometime in the near future.....


Screaming at Little Things on the Ground

So, needless to say, I am back in Denver.....
Today marks yet another day in the Great Apartment Hunt. There are so many places available in the neighborhoods that I'm looking at that it's only a matter of finding the place that stands out to me.....plus it makes me wonder if there are actually more apartments than there are renters in Denver.


Plight of a Four-Legged Squid

I am still absolutely in love with this city! I have decided to pretend that I moved here a long time ago (when I was originally planning to move from Louisville, in the dark age before myspace and blogs) and pretend that the past four or so years never actually happened......besides the friendships forged with Clint Allen and Lizzay Nelson. I figure that if historians can mold the past to meet their conveinient needs, than so can I.
Subsequentally, my NEW past contains stories of my saving the world twice, many rendevous with beautiful and easy women, a new arch enemy (not Clint, in case you were wondering) and encountering a science experiment gone wrong which resulted in the animation of cheese that learned to play the saxophone and now exists solely on appearances on a variety of talk shows............I obviously need more coffee.......be right back.


When Balloons Attack other Balloons

I finally got access to a scanner so I am able to share the drawing I did for the Monkey Themed group show I was fortunate enough to be a part of:

Plus, here is the drawing that I did for Clint's band BLACK ACID CANDY BOX, in case you didn't get a chance to see the flyer:

Pending a Skull Transplant

....and that pretty much sums it up for this day.....I am hoping to find a place (wish me the luck that you can spare), and hoping that after moving into whatever place I can find that I'll start to feel more grounded and can update this here thing more often......and catch up with emails and such.

Floating Above the Coffee......

Parasites in the Soggy Pillow

The plane ticket has been purchased, and time off work secured....so I am hoping that it's official this time. The aquiring and moving of my car and possessions, that is. I hold my breath as I write this due to the fact that every time this has been planned before, some event would prevent it....like being evicted from our condo, a water explosion in the storage room.....or a qiant squid attack. I also hold my breath because of the light headed feeling that follows and the chance that me head will fall flat on my keyboard resulting in a iufbhgkidjldjiidjffdjkgnbfkjgnbfjgnbf............ow.
So, I will be on route to PA starting on the 15th, and hopefully to return here with whatever survived by the 22nd.

"Never" Can Only Be Measured in Kentucky Apparently

Ten reasons why Clint Allen should move to Denver:

10) A whole new area to explore on foot, and evenings cool enough to do so, even in the heart of summer.
9) A music scene that is alive and varied, and doesn't just cater to itself and it's friends in the local Alt Mag.
8) All day Bleach Sale at Target!!! (I'm going to hell)
7) Nobody here yells "Fag" at you when you walk down the street....instead they yell "Joto", which I'm taking to mean, "You look cool, here's twenty dollars!"
6) A whole new chance to alienate himself from a new population of waitresses...
5) A chance to reinstate the long Brainstorming walks, in which we will come up with great ideas, wet ourselves laughing, and never be able to recall any of what we thought of later....
4) His brother is a dick, and should be shunned! YOU HERE ME BILLY?! SHUNNED!!!
3) Because I am working on making his band mates move here....Black Acid Candy Box, Denver Addition!
2) The Iced Tea here is actually drinkable....
1) Because I told him to!!!

Masked Worms holding Balloons in the Corner

I really don't have anything else to write about, but I have a half a cup of my Mocha to finish and then some drawings to work on before packing up and heading back to the apartment.

That is all......

Please pull up to the second window.

Invertebrates in the Sock Pile......

Well fellow travelers, and by 'travelers' I mean 'people who read this here little corner of my mind'.....and by 'fellow' I meant 'that guy who keeps coughing in the corner of this here coffee house', and by 'this here coffee house' I mean.......uh......pretty much what I said. I am in one of my new favorite coffee bars called Cafe Europa, supposed to be writing a list of things to pack up from my surviving storage items.....but I couldn't help but blog a little, seeing as it's been a while since I've had the opportunity to do so.

My keyboard is covered with dust.......it's amazing how easy it is not to notice that until the sun actually hits it just right........of course this has nothing to do with anything, but man! Really! I could collect all of it and make one hell of a bunny......an undead bunny of keyboard dust to walk aimlessly around the plains looking for it's purpose......latching onto people it encounters and absorbing their ideas and traits as it's own for short periods of time until spotting another victim and hopping onto them..........
.......actually, this now sounds like someone I dated before which is creeping me out. I will leave the dust where it is.

Like I mentioned above, I should be making a list of things of my surviving possessions. The reason for this is that I am FINALLY making my way back to Pennsylvania to get it all and bring it here. I am both giddy with anticipation and soiled with my own filth of apprehension over this. The giddiness comes from the obvious, just the fact of acquiring my car and possessions again and completing this here move once and for all. As much as I hate moving, I have to admit that I love the act of actually being moved, or the unpacking. I am so looking forward to finally getting my own corner in Denver and making it my own. I've always loved getting a new place and going through the process of making it my own....rethinking how things should go and where. I've always been amazed by the people that I've known who take weeks (or longer) to actually unpack after moving, because it usually takes me anywhere from a matter of hours to at most a matter of days considering on the circumstances. And in this case I anticipate the reward to be compounded by a wave of relief of actually finally being moved fully to Denver and shedding the feeling of being 'in between' places, or rather, being 'in the process' of moving like I've felt for near the whole year.
Now, the soiled feeling comes from two sources, neither of which have anything to do with actually soiling myself, which I haven't done for at least twenty minutes. The first comes from actually seeing my stored possessions. I've only been told of the damage and the losses, I have yet to see this for myself, which I'm not sure I'm ready for. The list of damage has near doubled since the initial claim. It seems like every time I talk to the Insurance or to my folks I get a few more items added to the list, usually with a precursor of "Where you terribly attached to "blank"?" With this fact in mind, I'm certain to personally discover even more loss when finally reuniting with my stuff. And even though I've resigned myself with this fact, that doesn't mean I can be fully prepared.
The second half of this soiled feeling has to do with the actual move itself. I have given myself only one full week to accomplish everything.....which, in short, consists of flying into Pittsburg, meeting with the Insurance Rep and stabbing him in the throat, hiding the body, going through my stuff and salvaging what can be while discarding the rest, repacking what I'm keeping, lying to authorities that come looking for missing Rep, driving from Central Pennsylvania to Denver.
I plan on drinking a lot of coffee.....moreso than what I consume on a daily basis now.

But, in all honesty, the anticipation does far outway the dread. I have felt in between places for FAR too long, and I'm looking forward to starting the process of growing some roots again.....or at least getting to the point where I feel less compelled to write blogs about where I'm at mentally and physically and get back to writing the nonsence I used to write about........like being cut from a Jib and whatnot.

Stop Stabbing the Sponge....

Just a quick update to let everyone know that I'm alive (barely) and that I have been promised that it's not as infected as it looks or feels. A quick update due to the fact that I'm writing this right now from a coffee house here in the wonderful world of Denver, because I don't have internet access in the new temporary place. The good news is that, unlike Brooklyn which charged me near $12 an hour for internet and then laughed at me and punched me til I wet my pants, internet access is free here!!! There are coffee houses and bars and restaraunts and what nots that all offer free wifi! Praise the dead baby god in the barrel in the sky, with a mouthful of noodles! I'll stop that now.....sorry.

So, here comes the update:

Wait for it.......wait for it.......

First, the move from the pit of Westminster to Denver is finally over.....at least somewhat. I am sharing a spot with my drunk brother for a few months, taking my time and looking for a place of my own, where I can strip naked and make as many muffins as I see fit. I look forward to those days, as I'm sure you don't care. I say 'somewhat' above because of the fact that my brother still has items to move into the new place, and I still have a mass moving of my soggy and ruined stuff from Pennsylvania to look forward to.
But I am OUT of Westminster! And finally in Denver, which I have to say is my new favorite place. More on that later.........wait for it.......

Second, I think that I really dig my new job, all but the fact that it doesn't pay as much as I would like. Everyone that I work with is cool and refrain from throwing stuff at me when I'm not looking which is always a plus. One of the best things about working at an art supply store is that you work with other artists and creative types.....and you get to deal with artists as customers.....you also have to deal with 70 year old craft experts who come in to show you the hundreds of watercolor paintings they've done of thier cats, but I can live with that.

Third.....there is no third.

Fourth, I was lucky enough to be a part of my first group show here in Denver last night. A few of the people that I work with put on an art/music/poetry slam at a bar called Three Kings, in the basement gallery space. They have been organizing this event for a while, but I didn't hear about it until the beginning of the week. They were really cool to let me be a part of it, and tolerant enough to still put my piece up at the very last second (it took me all week to finish the drawing, matt and frame it).
The show was monkey themed....that is, monkey themed. Do I really need to go into more explaination?
I wish that I could share some images with you all here, but I haven't had the chance to get any of them onto this here computing machine.....so I'll have to share later.
The show was a blast and I seemed to get a really good response from everyone for the drawing. There were some amazing work on the walls. The whole experience has finally inspired me to start building a new body of work again after losing all of it to the storage disaster, so hopefully I'll have some drawing updates to share in the near future.

Fifth, please send me all your money. I is the poor right now.

Sixth, yes, I realize that my profile is looking pretty fucked lately. It seems that my web host has a problem with proper billing. I have been offline for a few days, and it seems that my bill for the next two years became due. Unlike most companies who will inform you weeks in advance that a bill is coming up, my host works like this: "Dear Fisher, you hosting fee is due....riiiiiight......NOW! Oooo late."
Fuckers.
So, I paid the fees today and await the suspension to be lifted in the next few days.
Fuckers.

Seventh, I haven't had the chance to work on the new zombiespoon ideas that many of you have given me. The moving has made that difficult.

.....and that's about it in a nut pouch. I leave you all now to talk amongst yourselves, as I need to update all kinds of accounts with my new address and phone number and what not.

While Dawning a Circumstance-Skin Coat.....

Recently I learned the "Pull my Finger" gambit that everyone has been talking about. For those of you who have yet to experience this exciting flavor of Pop Culture, allow me to ruin the surprise for you....it makes the "pullee", or the initiator, fart. Hot damn! That is funny! "Pull my finger!" - "Uh, ok? Oh! That's great.....you farted. Wow. You farted right when I pulled. Good for you. You're like a machine. Just like a white trash robot with a switch that makes you seem to shit in your pants. I'm going to walk away now and never speak to you again."
I realize that many of you probably already know this trick, and are wondering how it might be that I didn't. Well, in truth, I have heard of it before, it just meant something completely different in my family. It's not that I didn't grow up with the one family member who got drunk at family gatherings and asked all the kids to pull his finger....it's just that when the finger in question was actually tugged upon, the free hand was used to put a shiv in the belly of the unfortunate puller. Needless to say, we all fell for this trick only once, either because we were clever enough to associate "Pull my Finger" with terrible pain and emergency room visits, or because we died. That uncle was the most feared person in my family.

I suppose that today is the official moving day into Denver....Part 1, that is. The actual apartment that my brother is willing to share with me for a few months (until Corinne, his wife to be, is out of her lease and switches places with me) won't actually be available until this Tuesday the 13th. But, due to circumstances beyond our control --which, if one were to think about it, is the very nature of circumstances...for those who actually do have control over them refer to them as 'events' or sometimes 'occurrences', though occurrences are rare to see in the wild these days, having been hunted to near extinction for their valuable pelts and medicinal horns-- we feel it best to leave this condo a few days early.
So, today is the official moving day into Denver....Part 1; into the living room of Corinne and her roommate, Allie's, apartment in Capital Hill. Part 2 will be moving everything again into the new apartment come Tuesday. Part 3, which is mine and mine alone, will come a month or two later into my own studio, hopefully staying within Capital Hill. I'm tired already....if only I had some Occurrence Horn Powder to add to my coffee.

In other newses: I started working full time at a place called Meiningers in Denver, pushing all sorts of art supplies and art supply related materials....hoping to eventually be promoted to the "upstairs" in the admin portion of the company....still trying to figure out who to sleep with for that.
I enjoy the job, though it's retail, mainly due to the people I work with, and the people who come in. Plus, I'll be getting a great discount on items that I'll be slowly replacing from the storage disaster.

Speaking of which....still fighting the insurance company over the amount of what my lost art and supplies are/were worth. Example: they offered an amount of $15 an hour towards the hours worked on the very large drawings that I had lost. Fine, I thought. Then I explained that one drawing in particular took near 90 hours (this was a 24" x 36" pen and ink drawing), they responded that there was no way it could have taken more than 2 hours.....to which I said "Pull my finger."

I should be finally getting the remaining possessions from Pennsylvania by the end of August....I suppose that that would count as moving Part 3a....moving Part 3b being the move into my own studio in a few months....in case any of you need to make a note of it, which, in all honesty, would frighten me if you did.

And finally, there's a good chance that I'll be minus internet access for a while due to the combinations of moving.....I'm already getting the shakes.....but that could also be due to the loss of blood from my sucking chest wound.......fucking uncle!

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Ten

Part Ten: the Mummified Sex Toy in the Coffee Grounds

Taxidermy has always been a strange and guilty fascination of mine. I have always found myself drawn to those beasts that I've encountered in stores and homes, mesmerized by their perfectly preserved and posed existence. I have even, on many occasions, given serious thought to taking the practice up and learning the art; and while I don't condone or even understand hunting, especially as a 'sport' or more so as using the kill for nothing more than a trophy for bragging rights, I have to admit being in awe and captivated by the said trophies.
The closest I've really ever come to this work or art form is digitally, with Photoshop. For years I've had a love of finding as many usable animal pics as I can and then digitally altering them, usually combining two or more animals together to create something new.

I've called this process my Taxidermy mainly due to the fact that it would be exactly what I'd be doing with real preserved animals, had I ever learned the technique. This is also my favorite practice in Photoshop, which is, combining images together and trying to make it appear seamless and plausible. I use it almost daily for a variety of reasons, not just for my Taxidermy projects: I've done it for my recent book cover designs like the cover of Tonic (the winged bottle) in my last post; I've used it professionally in some of the commercial work that I've done in the past; and it's even the technique behind my online avatar.

This has been a post that I have been intending to do for a long time. Actually, this is a post that I should have done a while back, that is, the story behind my thumbnail picture. I can't even count the number of times I've been asked what it is, if it's real and why it got the name 'zombiespoon'. I have seriously lost track. Will this post stop the influx of those queries? No, probably not at all. But, after posting this I'll add the link to my collection of quick-links in order to quickly point the askers here, seeing as my responses to the questions have gone from detailed answers in the beginning to one word responses as of late.

First there is the name 'zombiespoon'. Basically, this came from a day of frustration, many years ago, when trying to come up with an online moniker that hadn't already been chosen by a few hundred, if not few thousand, people before. I'm sure most of you remember originally typing in your name somewhere online only to have it returned to you followed by a large number indicating how many of you already exist out there. It's a frustrating process.
So, rather than settle with being the 389^th of anything, I started plugging in whatever different ideas came to mind. This took more time than I could have possibly expected (are you aware that at that time there were already over a hundred "eggfuckers" out there?). Finally after much frustration, I typed in zombiespoon....and it came back clean.
Exciting so far, isn't it? Just wait, it only gets better.....well, no....actually it doesn't.

Next, the doll.
The doll itself is real, and was a gift to me by a friend. I have a great fondness for strange, old and weathered dolls and collect them.

As you can see, the actual doll is completely faceless. This picture is a still from a short movie I did when testing out my new webcam.
I had been using the name zombiespoon for a good while before the thumbnail that you see today was ever actually conceived. Mostly on another social networking website known as LouisvilleMojo, which was much like myspace, only for people residing in Louisville, and where the lonely, large and socially inept could meet online and anonymously hate on one another. Great fun!
I changed my thumbnail picture regularly, until the day I was goofing off and quickly added a cat's mouth to that still.

Almost at once, the people that I conversed with, or made fun of, started referring to the doll image itself as zombiespoon. The image and the name became one on their own, which was fine to me.
That image remained unchanged until around the time that I discovered myspace. I just felt that the zombiespoon doll needed a bit of refining, an upgrade. The zombiespoon that you see today is the combination of the same doll pic merged with the distorted mouth of a piranha that I found online.

From here, I went a little insane. Starting slowly, by making holiday versions of the zombiespoon to post on their respectful days, to a period of mass creation of different zombiespoon personas....most of which haven't even been showed until now:

One would think that with this group I might have finally gotten it all out of my system, but no. I'm still looking for any excuse to alter the image into something else.....any suggestions for which will be appreciated and considered, altering this little guy has become one of my new favorite things to do....alongside drinking coffee and talking to inanimate objects.

Coming back to the art of taxidermy (true taxidermy, not my digital version of it), I have wanted to add the toothy mouth to the real doll for some time. I feel fairly confident in the fact that I could most likely sculpt one myself, using polymer clays and enamels with air brushes, but I have no idea what the best way to attach it to the doll would be, which is why I've been so hesitant. The last thing I'd want to do is to destroy the little guy (this is, of course, assuming that the doll survived the storage disaster....I'm still waiting to see and keeping my fingers crossed).
Several months ago I watched a program about the history and art of taxidermy. The show followed the timeline from the early techniques of the practice to the styles and skills of today. The part that intrigued me the most was near the end of the program, when they covered one of the newest techniques. There are taxidermists now out there that can create animals for you from a photograph, or even just from description. Using any of their hundreds of models and sheer artistry they can create almost any animal in any wanted pose using no part of a real critter. I watched in awe as one of these artists finished the detail work on the mouth of a carnivore in mid growl....no teeth, no bone....just pure sculpture.
Of course I thought of my zombiespoon guy.
At the time I was still in Pennsylvania, which seems like it would be a prime area for taxidermists, seeing as deer season seems to be a weekly occurrence and hunters will actually walk, armed, through neighborhoods and take down game in full view of nearby swing sets. But this was right before leaving to come to Denver, so I never got the opportunity to search.
I still plan to at least follow up on this idea, once I get settled here. I actually look forward to explaining what I want done to the unsuspecting taxidermist and studying his expression....and if he says no, I plan to follow up with asking him if he would instead be willing to create a monkey reading a Bible while a family of snakes escape from it's butt. Hell, this could be a new past time, asking taxidermists to create the most ridiculous of items.
"I was writing to inquire whether it would be possible for your company to recreate a three headed mouse fucking a door knob. Time is critical as this is to be an anniversary gift to my wife."


Finally, this was the last of my ten part directionless series, which was supposed to land on my 100^th MySpace blog post (LiveJournal readers....I have NO idea what post we're at), and it would have too, had I not witness the motorcycle accident that just recently stopped haunting me while I slept. So now, please join me in celebrating my 101^st post!
(blows into a party horn and throws dry ramen noodles in the air, not having confetti)

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Nine

Part Nine: Curious Sounds from the Box

I have recently been thinking a lot about the different voices I have when writing. I imagine that this will be understandable to you other writers out there (in which I mean both professional as well as those who enjoy just to write a lot), I have been thinking about the different styles I write in, or voices, depending on what it is that I'm writing at the time. For example, this post right now. This is about as close to my regular voice (if we were to be speaking to one another) as I believe that I get in written form. Clint might argue against this, due to the fact that I'm apt to spontaneously make up voices or characters on a whim when speaking, most of which are lost when later trying to recall them, but Clint likes Bleach....which has nothing to do with what I'm writing about now.....so let's move on.
There is my "professional" writing voice, which is what I use when writing to figures of authority. Such as: "I don't believe this restraining order is just" letters, or when writing cover letters for my resume.
There is the voice in which I write my stories in, that is, the books that I'm working on or if only for the captions used under my drawings.
And there is my "street lunatic" voice....also known as Asher Willis Fim...my pseudonym I use when writing complaint letters to companies for no particular reason what so ever....or lately, for writing letters to the "Ask a Mexican" column that I find so entertaining in Denver's Westword weekly alt paper (none of which have been answered yet).

For those of you who are unaware, I currently have two blogs....that is, I post blogs from my MySpace profile as well as to my LiveJournal account. Originally, I had intended for the two to be separate from one another. My MySpace Blog was to be my regular voice of ramblings, thoughts and complaints....while my LiveJournal posts were to be more of the "works in progress" variety, somewhere between my regular voice and professional voice, and linked to my website (which, yes, is as of yet still unfinished goddamnit!). But the two have basically become one for the past year or so, due to the fact that my pursued profession (writing and illustrating) had basically been put on hold due to moving and the general feeling of being "ungrounded". So, instead of just leaving LiveJournal idle all of this time, I started just posting the same material in both. If you are reading this right now in LiveJournal, you can be sure that the same exact words are also lying in wait over in my MySpace Blog, and vice a versa.

That being said, I think it's due time to write an update on the work I've been doing, considering the fact that lately I've finally been doing a lot of writing and illustrating, feeling more grounded....or at least that I'm slowly finally landing on my feet. Granted, I'm landing on my feet now after stepping off of a twenty plus story building near two years ago, but landing on the feet nonetheless. I will refrain from writing this works in progress update in my newly acquired "landing" voice which would sound like:

"DEAR GOD THE PAIN!!!! FOR THE LOVE OF RELIGIOUS THINGS AND WHATNOT!!! I THINK MY FEMUR IS PROTRUDING FROM MY SKULL!!!!"

...because I doubt it would make for a good voice for such....that, and I plan to use it instead as my new "professional" voice from now on:

"OH DEAR SIRS FOR CHRIST'S SAKE....OR TO WHOM IT HURTS SO FUCKING BAD IT MIGHT CONCERN, I REGRET TO INFORM YOU AAAAAAAAA THAT I WILL NOT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THE PAIN BE ABLE TO ATTEND THE FUNCTION BECAUSE I'M LEAKING TOO MANY VITAL FLUIDS!!!!!"

Like I said, I have been working again now that the inspiration has returned, which, albeit, is kind of strange to me seeing as my regular mode seems to be to work during the Fall and Winter months and to become lethargic in the Spring and Summer. But whatever....use the Muse when she arrives. I recently decided to put aside the two novels that I've been working on for the past two years, the Sinking Stones as well as Angel Soup, due to the fact that they have become much more involved than I originally anticipated as well as the fact that after working sporadically on them during this transient period, my thoughts regarding them have become muddled and disjointed. Better to put them away for awhile and return to them fresh later.
Instead, I started working a few weeks ago on a book titled Tonic, which is actually a complete rethinking of a previously self published work titled Meresin's Brew. I printed Meresin's Brew back in '98, and it has been a work that has always kind of bothered me, partly because I always felt that I didn't put enough time into it. I did, I admit, rush the story and drawings for it, mainly because I wanted to get it out there...and even though I got good responses over it (mostly, I think, because it actually made more sense than the book I published right before it), it's always been a thorn in my spleen.

Above is the cover in progress for the book, still to be worked on, but this is the main idea for it. The first draft is near completion. Basically, the theme is the same: the main character finds an unlabled bottle at home, and the strange events that take place afterwards and as he drinks it....but I have reworked it to include a few other characters as well as more of a reason behind the events.
I hope to start the illustrations for it in the next few months, after I move the rest of the surviving possessions to Denver. I have been toying with the thought of making the individual chapters available to download for under a dollar each, or something....mainly because it might help me to illustrate it faster. I don't know, still mulling that thought over. Hopefully after publishing it, it will cease to haunt me.

I've also been working on cover ideas for the Crying Attic...

The above is the (as of yet) winning illustrated idea for the cover, in a rough mode. I have to admit, envisioning the cover for this book has been difficult, and I'm still struggling with ideas and concepts.
The actual story is finished, after having gone through a dozen or more rewrites, as well as 90% of the illustrations (I have been promised that these things have survived the storage disaster...and I REALLY hope that is true!). I have written about this story before, so to sum up, it is basically a ghost story told in three related acts that form a written Moebius Strip.
I'm looking forward to getting it here finally so that I can finish the work on it, hopefully having the cover design figured out in that time, and start working towards finally publishing it.

Bread is a fairy tale that has been in the back of my mind for years, taking many different shapes, but staying somewhat formless. About a week or so ago, I had some fun with some leftover bread ends, a few of which as shown below:

...and for some reason that I have no explanation for, the story suddenly came together. That, for me, is one of the more exciting aspects about writing fiction, when the story works itself out. I have had this happen with several of my projects (part of why I feel ok with the idea of putting work aside for a length of time when the writing gets stale or I find that I'm stuck on a part of the narration, sometimes the blurry parts become focused when I'm not looking at them) and it's always the same feeling I get when discovering a new author or just a new book that speaks to me. In a lot of ways being a writer of your own fiction makes you also the work's first audience.
The notes and ideas that I've had for Bread have been scattered all over the place, and I'm currently in the process of reorganizing them and outlining the story. I should start writing the first draft in the coming weeks.
Due to their part in the congealing of the book, I plan to use one of the bread guys for the cover photo....a new one with a handmade mask stitched into the bread; I've also been thinking of incorporating them into the drawings for the story, like little Easter Eggs.
The story itself can best be described with it's moral (as many fairy tales are apt to have): Be Careful What You Dream. It also will be written within the rule of threes, which any of you who have read and/or studied fairy tales will know, is one of the unwritten practices when writing them. Three little Pigs...the Three Bears in Goldylocks...the Three Questions Little Red Riding Hood asks....ect.

Other than working on these books, I have been crying in the shower a lot, but I promised myself that I wouldn't write about that in my blog....so you should probably forget I said anything.

Actually, I have been toying with the idea (which has now become more of a plan) to do away with my Etsy account, due to lack of use on my part, and just starting an Ebay storefront where I'll post drawings and handmade items for sale. This won't be happening until I get my possessions from Pennsylvania and see who the survivors are. When built, the store will contain original drawings, handmade dolls and puppets I've been doing.....and preserved bread wearing masks (you THINK that I'm kidding!)

I'm also working on a post about doing what has been dubbed as the Portraits Project on an on order basis....

...but again, this is on hold for the moment until after relocating to Denver and getting a little more situated. I'll definitely explain more about this in the near future.

Lastly, I have been goofing off with photoshop....that is, I've always wanted to alter photos of people into versions of what they'd look like as my drawings. Here is an example I did quickly:

....Unfortunately, finding the right photos to do this with is a LOT harder than I thought it would be. I no longer have an account with Photos.com, which would have been great for images. So, if anyone has any leads to good free photo sites that contain head shots of people (preferably with no backgrounds), let me know.

Only one blog post to go!

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Eight...Addendum

Part Eight Addendum: the Purple Shriveled Pickle

I felt that it would be important to add this little tidbit, if for no better reason than getting to use the word "tidbit", and also due to the fact that it's not entirely true that everything in the past few weeks has been of the mixed blessing variety. There is a really good thing to share as well:

My brother and his girlfriend, Corinne, recently announced their engagement! This is awesome because they, in my opinion, are really good together and because I already have come to view her as a sister.....a purple-haired sister that listens to shitty pseudo punk music....but a sister nonetheless. And I'm NOT about to publicly chastise her right now due to the fact that she's going to go see Hank Williams 3 tonight with the other retards.

Please feel free to use the above links to give congrats to the happy couple if you feel the need.....add them to your friend's list, send them angry letters about things that they have nothing to do with or send them money to help get started drinking early tonight.

In other news, the internet connection seems to be up again finally, after being down for the past several days; I have the entire day off and plan to finish up the last two posts of this directionless ten part series that I originally intended to have all posted within two or three days after starting....then I will start a series of One part series posts, because that makes more sense. My feet itch, just thought you all should know.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Eight

Part Eight: the Mixed Blessing Blood Trail

So, yeah. I haven't kept up with this here bloggy machine thing that well as of late, nor have I been very good at keeping in touch with many friends, acquaintances or those that I don't even really like but scare me enough into pretending that I do lest I find myself forced into race dialing 911 while they swing a rusty nail-studded bat around my room while screaming unintelligible phrases about the "little piggies"! (You know who you are!)

So, I suppose a little list of current events is in order:

A plan was finally formulated to acquire my possessions from storage (including my car). This would have taken place the first week of August. The key-word here is "would".

My brother and I were recently asked to leave the condo we are/were living in in Westminster by our landlords, who I suspect made this decision while on one of their many coke-addled benders. At first we were given 30 days and the story that they planned to sell the condo....that turned into 12 days and a story that they needed the time to fix the place up for other potential renters. After much protesting and threatening of legal recourse, it turned back into 30 days...and so on. At this point I really have lost track of how much time we have and what the new reason behind the decision is, and I couldn't really give a fuck. This is what put the "would" in the previous event.

Before I left Pennsylvania I took everything I still owned out of the storage place that I was renting and put it into the corner of the small unfinished room of the basement in my folk's house. Now, due to an error on the plumber's part when the house was being constructed, the drain in that room had to be plugged because it was a slightly higher elevation than the others and caused slight problems with the toilets and what not. This would only ever be a problem if, let's say, one of the two water-heaters not five feet from where my stuff was, exploded and then proceeded to spray unchecked for 12 or so hours. I don't know the full extent of the loss, and probably won't for the next few days, but I do know that so far the casualties include my bed, the desk, the drawing table, my matte-cutter, framed artwork (mine as well as others that were bought or given to me), all my crescent board, my case of Arches Paper, an undetermined (as of yet) number of books and the entire contents of my portfolio. The lone water heater also took out my parent's basement basically....including their bar, bathroom, some furniture and all the carpet. What a soldier!

I was described, many years ago by the parents of one of my close friends, as insouciant, which has become one of my favorite words. For the most part I'd like to believe that that is true, but that's not to mean that I don't suffer from the same moods as others, just that I usually do a good job of either hiding it from everybody or knowing when to avoid people altogether, usually only my close friends or those that have known me for years being able to see through the façade.
Luckily, this fact still held true during all of this, for I honestly believe that had I somehow found myself as coke-addled as my landlords, I would have been picked up by the police in Denver for publicly punting babies!
As fun as that would have been, I have also learned in all my years that the downsides to things usually come with upsides in the same package. Luckily this holds true with all of the events listed above.

My folks apparently have great Homeowner's Insurance, and even though we don't know the full extent of the damage as of yet, we have been assured that everything will be covered....I just wish I could see the representative's face when he learns exactly HOW MUCH some of this lost stuff was worth.
This promised sum affords me the ability to not only stay in Colorado (which I really thought I'd have to leave after the many conflicting announcements of when and why we were being expelled from the condo) but to move into Denver far earlier than I originally had planned to, which is good due to the fact that I really can't stand Westminster!
This also puts acquiring my stuff and car back into motion, just slated for the end of August now instead of the beginning. And let's face it....it's looking like I'll have less to move now! Ha!

I think I just shit blood in my pants......

Not Part of the Soggy Toast Saga.....

About two or so years ago, my girlfriend at the time and I were witnesses to a horrible scene on Bardstown Road while trying to enjoy our chai teas outdoors, that is, we saw a medium sized dog get struck by a car. The car must have only swiped him for he was very much still alive, yelping and circling in the middle of the busy street, before laying down out of fear or shock. We both were trying to get out into the road, waving down traffic in order to do so, when a second car ran completely over this dog! It didn't even seem like the car made any attempt to swerve or slow down even....it just let both tires roll this poor dog like a rag doll. Nor did it even stop afterwards. I will maybe give them the benefit of doubt that they didn't have time to see the dog before striking it, but there is no possible way they couldn't have known that they ran it over.

I'm bringing this up tonight because I remember the wave of anger and awe I felt then thinking about how people could be so fucking heartless and uncaring.

Tonight, I was driving home from work in Denver on 25 North. There is a long curved ramp from this Interstate to get onto 36 West, which I was in the process of navigating when I witnessed a van, maybe two car lengths in front of me, change lanes directly infront of two motorcycles. Actually, more like changing lanes INTO the two motorcycles, to be more precise. One of the bikers managed to control his braking fishtale and swerved into the left lane (luckily unoccupied at that time), but the other biker started sliding sideways. The car infront of me quickly changed lanes to avoid what was about to happen, and I got the front row seat of watching this biker finally roll once, still with his bike, then roll face first into the concrete barrier at the side of the ramp (no, he was not wearing a helmet, of course).....went limp as a doll, rolling along side the gutter, and his bike then running him over. I came to a stop in the shoulder not ten feet from where he laid on his back. Amazingly, he was not only still alive, but conscious, and I ran to him while dailing 911. I did my best trying to tell him to just lie still and that an ambulance would be on it's way soon, but he was in a great deal of pain, and his head was split wide open on the right side and partly caved in.
His partner ran to us and helped in trying to keep him calm, and luckily a passing off duty nurse and EMT stopped to help as much as they could. The ambulance and police finally arrived and took over, and it was then that I finally realized that the van that caused this accident never stopped....NOR did the people directly in front of me who witnessed the whole event as well!

I don't really know what I'm trying to say with this blog. I feel sick! Not only for what I witnessed, of course, but for the fact that these people could drive away like that! What could possibly be in thier heads to make them that way? Are we who stopped to help THAT different in make up?
This poor guy's friend kept thanking me for calling 911 as if it was an unheard of thing to do, the police as well thanked me in that same way for the very same act!

The dog that got run over twice, over two years ago, did survive, and seemed like it would do well. I doubt I will be able to say that about the biker.

I'm going to drink myself to sleep now.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Seven

Part Seven: Being Windy like a Peanut

It has come to my attention recently that many cities across the states now take part in what can best be described as a Zombie Mob Day. A day where hundreds of people dress as zombies and wander the streets as if the rapture were happening now.
There is a part of me that really wants to support and possibly participate in such events, seeing as how the idea of the living dead has always been one of my favorite horror/creature subjects, and the wave of excitement that comes over me thinking about how finally the idea of zombies are becoming more widely accepted as a genre all it's own, thanks to such films as 28 Day Later (not entirely zombies, I know) and the, in my opinion, brilliant rethinking of Romero's Dawn of the Dead, as well as from Max Brook's books The Zombie Survival Guide and World War Z. But, at the same time, I almost feel as if I might be the only one who sees the dangers in such acceptance and with such events as the Zombie Mobs taking place.

One of the main reasons, in my opinion, to document and study the history of mankind and societies in general, is to learn from it. In other words, to learn from past mistakes. As individuals we are able to do this almost unfailingly. Hit a baby with a taser gun every time it tries to pet the salivating dog and eventually it'll stop trying, and most likely grow up with an unbelievable fear and hatred of dogs....but that's just a funny side effect.
As a collective we seem almost unable to do this. Hit a group of babies with a taser gun every time one tries to pet the dog and they'll blame one another, try to ban heavy metal and video games, but they'll keep trying to pet that damn dog! And will someone stop ringing that fucking bell?!!

Now, to bring this back to the subject of Zombie Mobs I'll give you all a few examples of where we should have learned better. First, Halloween....which gave people born with the condition known as "Rubber Face Syndrome", or as I like to call it, "Soup Face", a day that they could come out and mingle relatively free from blatant stares and persecution. The second, Mardi Gras....which introduced topless dancers into polite society.
And while both of these examples are relatively free of serious society altering side effects, they should at least give people pause to think about what could possibly happen when the undead feel free to join the masses of the living. I mean, just think about the number of people, in Florida especially but in other states as well, that had already been dead for sometime but still managed to vote for Bush in the past two elections!

Next I plan to combat the Tooth Fairy, who's very concept introduces children to prostitution by teaching them that it's not only ok but easy to sell your body for money.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Six

Part Six: the Sounds from Behind the Toilet

...In which we find our hero duct taped to a wall of the room filled with flesh eating eels. Will he survive? Stay tuned and find out.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Five

Part Five: Closed on Account of being Soiled

I have received many messages from readers on the fact that I should make more lists of things like I did in the earlier stages of blogging. As you can tell from previous blogs, I'm trying to do just that. So get the fuck off my back about it!!

I also have received several requests to bring back the "Guess what Clint's Listening to Now?!" topic. Seeing as I have not been living in an apartment below Clint for a year now, this subject seemed moot. But still, I suppose I enjoy the idea of still trying to guess.
So, here are my guesses as to what Clint is listening to right now:

- A nice piece of progressive rock, circa 1977 or thereabouts.

- Dogs barking at nothing, and barking, and barking, and barking.

- The sounds of Bleach, as only his ears can detect.

- His redneck neighbors plot his demise.

Please feel free to add your own guesses to the list. The closest guess will win a used wetnap and the scorn of the Allen. Clint Allen and those related to Clint Allen are not only eligible, but required to submit guesses. A sandwich is only considered a sandwich when two or more slices of bread are involved. Folding the bread in half over it's contents does not make it a sandwich, but rather a sad looking mock hotdog type thing. That has really nothing to do with this post, it's just from a drunken argument I had once.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Four

I have been asked several times over the past year when I'm going to move back to Louisville. In all honesty, I can't get mad at this question due to the fact that it's because I have attempted to move away three other times from that spider's web of a town, each time returning to it in just about a years time. Granted, two of the attempts landed me in Iowa, and the other, in State College PA.....so, I can't really be blamed for going back.
And, in truth, I loved Louisville. I wouldn't have moved back constantly or stayed for the amount of time there, had I not loved that place. The area is absolutely beautiful. The city has a great history that can still be felt in the old buildings of downtown and Old Louisville area. I have met and friended some of the most creative, unique and intelligent people there....and even though it's near, Louisville is not Indiana.
But, even that being said, I knew for a long time that I needed to move from there, but allowed myself to get stuck in what was basically an unhealthy situation. This is a hard subject to explain, but the just of it is that the bad started to outweigh the good for me there.
Anyone reading this who has moved around while growing up, or who has traveled enough I'm sure will agree that almost everywhere that you go in the U.S., things stay basically the same. The cities usually have the same problems with zoning, crime, racial tensions. There is always that group of people at the bar that says there is never anything to do in this town. The local radio station has that guy who is the morning commute madman dj, and the local weather interrupts your favorite show to let you know that it might sprinkle fifty miles from where you are. There are just as many constant good points, but listing the bad are always more fun. But, underneath all of this is what makes every place that you go in the states slightly different....even more so than geography. For lack of a better term, let's say that this is the town or city's attitude. This is the feeling that you get somewhere that differentiates it from everywhere else that you've been. It is the feeling spurred on by the people that you know, meet, interact with. It is even there with you when you are watching the local television, listening to local radio, or even when you find yourself totally alone.
Let's just say that for me, the attitude that I attributed with Louisville had for years become almost unbearable.
Once that starts to happen you begin to notice the other things about an area that you consider negative. Like I said before, Louisville contains some of the most intelligent, creative people that I have ever been fortunate enough to meet. I have also said that Louisville is a spider's web. Most of those people will never actually do anything with their talent or dreams. Louisville is a very very easy place to live in, which makes it also a very hard place to leave or get beyond. In my opinion, I'd have to say that at least 90% of anyone worth a damn in that town will never accomplish anything. Hell, most of the successful artists, musicians and writer's you hear of from Louisville are people that have come from there, only being noticed after having left. It is a very rare thing for one to become successful while staying there.
It's true that every so often there is an attempt to revive the artistic culture within the town, and while these attempts are valiant, they more often than not turn into nothing more than gatherings of wine drinking squishy peoples who spend their time talking shit on those who happened not to be present at the time, only to act like their best friends upon encountering them later. Not only that, but I have watched the great music scene slowly dwindle to the point of closet dust over the years....so much so that touring bands won't hardly even consider Louisville for a resting point. Hell, even Dave Chappel vowed that he would never return to the city due to the lack of respect he was shown during his show there.
Honestly, I'm not trying to offend anyone with this post, it's more of an explanation of why I left and why my answer to the questions of when I will be moving back is, never. I do miss Louisville. I miss my close friends, the large trees and beautiful architecture. I miss the feeling of inspiration that I originally felt upon moving there. I miss the comfortable feeling of knowing my surroundings like my own skin and not being able to walk a whole block without running into a friend. I miss the Bristol (the old haunt) and their Green Chili Wantons. I miss Chai at Highland Coffee and being able to walk anywhere that I needed to get to.
But, I don't miss any of this enough to want to live there again.
Despite all of this, I am still a fan of Louisville. I lived in that city for longer than anyplace else my entire life, and for that reason I will always consider it my home town, that and also because Kansas City won't let me consider it for that due to the fact that I'm not a fan of Bar B Que.
I only hate Louisville about 10%.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Three

Part Three: the Lonely Sandbag with a Leak

Here are some random, completely untrue facts about the new state that I have decided to call home:

- Colorado is both the 38th as well as the 43rd state of the United States.....it makes sense if you accept the fact that Idaho doesn't really exist.

- The state bird is the groundhog.

- Colorado is home to the highest population of nocturnal randomly howling dogs.

- Colorado and Kansas have been at war since 1861, but the Colorado Militia hasn't led an offensive for over a hundred years due to the fact that Kansas is so unorganized, they keep attacking themselves.

- Shuffleboard is outlawed in Denver.

- Not being smug is outlawed in Boulder.

- The state bird is the Mexican.

- The Rocky Mountains were originally named the 'Lenny Mountains', until Lenny got flattened by a rock.

- Colorado has the highest percentage of stolen American Flags in the states.

- Colorado has the second highest number of hacky sack related deaths, second only to Indiana of all places.....but that's probably because Indiana's state motto is "kill the hippies".

- Colorado is home to what is known as "the Most Unsuccessful Sea-Port in the World".

- The state bird is Bob Denver.

- About 34% of all Coloradans are not in the other 66% in this poll alone.

- The rain never makes it to the ground in Colorado. EVER!

- Denver has the third highest population of Emo kids, who buy their depression from Hot Topic.

- Just like every other state, Colorado is the birthplace of the cheeseburger, which is a bragging right I've always wondered about.

- Colorado is the home and headquarters for the Society of Cannibals against Rational Thought.....or P.E.T.A. for short.

- Four out of every three Coloradans believe in unicorns, whether they admit it or not.

- Greeting someone is considered 'foreplay' in Fort Collins.

- Colorado's state motto is "at Least We're Not Montana"....which is also the same state motto for Nevada.

...and that's enough for now. I will most definitely have more fun and completely untrue facts to share with you as the future unfolds for me in my new surroundings.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Two

Part Two: I'm Only Safe when You're at Walmart

So, I am under the impression that I owe you all another list of ten facts thanks to Rachael.....but this time, ten facts about vomiting. So let's get started, shall we?

1. I really have no reason ever to set foot into a McDonalds, due in part to hating the place as well as seeing Supersize Me, but even more than that, McDonald's food has always held a slight aroma in my mind that can only be compared to the vomit and sawdust combination that traumatized many of us back in grade school whenever one of our classmates threw up all over his or her desktop.

2. I once threw up in a friend's fish tank. There were no survivors.

3. I would much rather vomit in public at any given day in any giving circumstance than shit myself ever. If you are new to this blog, my fear of poop filled pants was covered in a previous list of ten random facts.

4. While I can't think of any time vomiting is actually enjoyable, throwing up while incredibly too stoned on pot is probably the worst of times. I don't smoke the stuff any more, haven't really for a long long time (damn becoming somewhat responsible!), but if memory serves, it was a bad enough feeling getting sick while high that I just might opt to shit myself instead.

5. My mother is the absolute most sensitive person in the world when it comes to puke. If she see's someone throw up, she'll follow suit shortly after. If she even hears the sounds of gagging, she's sure to vomit! My brother and I used this knowledge to our advantage while growing up. Sorry mom!

6. I nearly wet myself during the vomiting scene of Team America. Not only because it was one of the funniest scenes of the movie, but I discovered that even puppets puking can make my mother sick.

7. A balloon just floated past my window. That has nothing to do with vomit or vomiting, but I thought I'd share.

8. I remember being sick in the middle of the night several times when I was a small zombiespoon. I remember my father placing a large pot next to my bed in case I had to throw up in the wee hours of the morning, and I remember having to use that pot to catch the half digested contents of my stomach.
Now, I also remember being sent to my room for the nights I refused to eat dinner when I saw that same fucking pot being used to cook chili in!

9. I think someone should write a book about throwing up in every state. Clint? I'd buy that coffee table book before Kevin's Church Sign book.

10. My school took the entire eighth grade class to King's Island at the end of the school year. Some of my friend's and I managed to sneak vodka in with us and proceeded to get "tore up" for lack of a better way to put it. My diet that day consisted of much popcorn and too much vodka. You probably see where this is going, but just wait, it gets even better.
I finally braved the line for the coaster dubbed 'the Beast' (I have an insane hatred of lines). I also managed to get myself placed in the very first car. Now, about a few minutes into the ride came the realization that I was going to get sick. Not the "God I hope I don't get sick" or the "Maybe I can hold off getting sick"....no. This was the "Oh, here it comes" sick.
I remember having the vision of the coaster that someone got sick on where they threw up to one side and covered the side of the car. I didn't want to be that person. In my eighth grade inebriated state I had the genius idea that when my insides made their way out, I would vomit them into the sky above me, avoiding car covering disaster and probably winning the key to the city and a date with Madonna. (Keep in mind, this was the 80's). So, when the event happened shortly after, I threw my head back triumphantly, expecting my puke to fly into the heavens. What actually happened was that the entire top of my head became saturated with vodka, popcorn and stomach acid, followed shortly by the screams of everyone who was unfortunate to be sitting in the cars behind me that day.
I did not get the key to the city that day....nor has Madonna ever called.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part One

Part One: the Butter Dish Dust

I have been terrible at keeping up not only with this here bloggish type tool, but with friends and family in general. I have been meaning to update everyone with the tale of leaving Pennsylvania for Kansas City, and then the journey onward to Colorado....but what I just typed is all that you are going to get. Sorry. Too much time has passed and what I had originally formed to write in my mind has been replaced with little dancing bunnies wielding knives and grinning at me menacingly.....so I choose not to think of it.

The big news is this: basically I am now becoming a Coloradian, or whatever the hell they call themselves here. At least for the time being, if not longer.
I am currently living in a little town just North of Denver called Westminster, in an apartment shared to me by my brother and our friend Kristen.
What started as a visit has now turned into a relocation.
My stuff, on the other hand, is still living in Pennsylvania.....I bet it hasn't found work either.

Let's Re-Arrange the Alphabet......for Some Reason...

Today, I am proud to announce, that I discovered the joys of altitude sickness! Hot damn! For those of you not familiar with this condition, let me just say that it is a lot like having a very bad flu only instead of being brought on by a microscopic virus, it is brought on by Colorado.
Yep, I have made it to the fine state of Colorado, where the air is thinner, the mountains are in full view, and blood is apparently replaced by goo. This is a very strange area; nothing over two stories tall exists, there are no such things as 24 hour convienient stores, and Kansas is right to the East of here!

I started this blog this morning actually, with the intentions of summing up my travels thus far.....but then the vomitting hit me and afterwards I spent the rest of the day in bed dreaming of Emo kids digging for potatoes that screamed when unearthed. Now it's 3 in the morning here, and although I do feel better than when I was bent over a toilet, I still feel spent.
So, hello to everyone! I'm still alive, and I'll write more later when I feel up to it.

Oh, and I have recently been "tagged" again (thanks Rachael).....so I suppose that I need to come up with ten more facts to share with the lot of you. Bah!

Tag Body Spray smells like Cat Urine, and other useless factoids...

Damn you Shoobedobedobedooooo!! I am now required by law to answer this request.

"The rules are: Once you have been tagged, you have to write a blog with 10 weird random things, facts, or habits about yourself. At the end, you choose 5 people to be tagged, list their names, and why you chose them. Don't forget to leave a comment that says 'you are tagged' on their profile and tell them to read your latest blog. ENJOY!!!"

So, here are my 10 facts in no particular order and in no real related subject or category.
May you all learn a little more about me as well as leave a dinner in the freezer for too long, causing it to suffer from severe freezer-burn and render it inedible!

#1- I fell down on the treadmill today at the gym I've been going to. I had my iPod sitting in the tray infront of me, and when I got the speed up to a good run, the iPod bounced it's way free and fell to the fast moving tread below. My first instinct was to try to catch it, which caused me to trip and land on my knee. The iPod had already been sent into the wall behind, and I followed, but not before losing the knee of my workout pants as well as most of the skin on my knee. I couldn't answer the people who were asking me if I was ok, because I was laughing too hard.
Needless to say, yes, the room was filled with very cute women today.

#2- It is unwise to touch my neck....EVER!!

#3- I have a fear of shitting myself while at a workplace. I used to work with Chad at a place called Strategic Marketing (which is a proud sponsor of Hair Club for Men) and it had one restroom for the men that was ALWAYS occupied! I am a fairly regular person, and when I have to go, I HAVE to go. But, it seemed that the restroom was always being used by someone who would be checking their hair, masturbating to the newest Financial Rag, or whatever else a man does in a bathroom for up to 40 fucking minutes at a time! I came up with the plan to create an emergency "I crapped myself" kit, that would contain a clean pair of underwear and pants, a lot of wet-naps and some garbage bags. I planned to hide this kit in the ceiling behind one of the removable panels in the restroom....but scrapped the whole idea deciding I'd rather just shit in the office of the person taking their time in the restroom, if it ever came down to that.

#4- I absolutely hate squirrels. Fuzzy tailed fucking tree rats.

#5- I suffer from the occasional night terror, which I blame my parents for. One of my earliest memories is of my room in Kansas City when I was either 2 or 3. Somehow, my parents had acquired a few dozen promotional posters for TWA which they used as wallpaper on the wall across from my bed. Thinking back on them, they were actually very cool, containing great seventies style illustrations of the different countries that TWA would go to. (I wish I had them now....they were really cool). But, the one directly in front of my bed, and in the center, was the one for India....which was an illustration of the profile of an elephant's head. It was a highly decorated elephant, with gold and tassels and what not, but the elephant's eye was proportionally small and smack in the center of the head. At night the room would be pitch black but the eye would be visible. The only visible thing in the room.....just starring at me. It terrified me, and I slept very little....I would just lay there and stare back.
I think my parents did that to me on purpose.

#6- I cannot stand soft drinks. I prefer to get my caffeine from coffee.

#7- I met Andre the Giant in Ohio when I was ten.

#8- I have a dead hand. That is, I came very close to losing my drawing hand in October of 97 when I lost my temper at work (Kinko's) and put my hand through a gumball machine (the gumball machine was an accident....I was aiming for the breakroom lockers which the manager and I had designated as the Kinko's punching bag) and got a glass shard through my wrist. The glass severed my nerves, opened my artery, severed some tendons and lodged itself in between radius and ulna bones. This was just the beginning of the story.....the longer version goes on to tell about how I was misplaced at the hospital, nearly bled to death, was told that I would never have use of that hand again, two operations by Dr. Kutz (luckily one of the best hand surgeons) and a lot of physical therapy. I have since regained all the mobility and strength in my right hand, but have absolutely no feeling in it any longer, besides the thumb. Hence....I have a dead hand, and a cool scar.

#9- I hate wind chimes....actually, I dislike the sounds of bells altogether. It's like nails on a chalkboard for me. I used to live below one of my best friends, Clint Allen....who always promised me that he's take that fucking windchime down from outside my bedroom window, but he never did. It's ok though, because I had keys to his apartment and I peed in his bleach while he was out one day.

#10- I have a strange love for old, weathered or otherwise just strange and creepy dolls. I collect them, and have actually ruined a date with a woman upon her seeing my collection after being invited in for a drink, which was code for sex. She never spoke to me after that.


Alright....and now I'm required to Tag 5 other people with this. Damn!
#1- Clint Allen....because he hasn't posted a blog for a long time.
#2- Bloomin'.....just for the fact that he's going to say that he's hot somewhere in the following comments.
#3- Elizabeth....she is probably not going to do this, even though she should.
#4- Rachael....so I can make fun of all her typos.
#5- Mungmopper (me brother)....for obvious reasons, plus, I love his blogs and he hasn't done one forever.

the Greatest Blog I have EVER Written redux

Alright....so as many of you have figured out by this point, I'm a bastard. No, it's true. That last blog post of mine was nothing more than a false title with no body and set to private in my response to the growing number of private blogs being posted recently. Annoying, isn't it?
See, if you are going to write a blog post on your public forum, then why in the name of the toast that I dropped on the floor earlier today and ate it anyways would you then make it private?! Don't they still make those things of pages bound together called diaries? Some even have cute pictures on them of Hello Kitty, and some even say PRIVATE and come with tin foil locks.

Bah! Bah I say! Bah!

Bear with me here folks, I'm exhausted right now. I only started writing this post right now to explain the last post, as well as to let everyone in on the fact that I will be leaving from Pennsylvania tomorrow, first for the family swamp of Kansas City, and later for the state of Colorado. I might return here, and I might not. There is a good chance that Colorado might be my next homeless step towards the goal of Seattle. I really can't say right now. But, regardless, I'm leaving and probably not going to be online that often for the next several weeks.
Now, just because I'm not going to be around as often for a while doesn't mean that I don't love you. The truth is, I have never loved you, and if your mother had been on birth control pills like she said she was, we wouldn't even be discussing this now......wait.....sorry, I just suffered a weird flashback.

It's been a long, long day......I need to lay down. Goodnight.