Have you tried explaining what a blog is to somebody's mom or dad? Try explaining to people that you met ALL your friends in Australia because you started reading their blogs and then sent them some emails. You often get stared at like a purple baby with dick growing out of your head. I might as well say that I first met my friend when I tried to stuff my finger up their ass without permission one late night outside a seedy bar. Or maybe, I liked the way their underpants smelled so I followed them around for a few weeks learning where they liked to spend their free time.
It's incredibly difficult to feel remotely cool when you have to use the word "Blog." It's not a sexy word and I am going to officially suggest that from now on we replace the word blog with the word fuck.
Doesn't it sound better to use the word "fuck" in place of "blog"? Here's an example, you be the judge.
Ignorant person: So, how'd you and Firetart meet?
ME: How did I meet my friend Firetart? Well, Firetart and I are both avid fuckers and we met each other through some mutual fuck friends who are hardcore fuckers. My stomach still hurts me after Firetart's fuck from the other day. It almost killed me. We like fucking so much that a bunch of us are thinking of doing some group fucking. It's very liberating to be able to fuck whatever you want.
Or, perhaps Blog is the sexier way to go.
I don't know I'm just another ignorant fucker.
Happy Holiday Fucking my beloved Fuck lovers.
Monday, December 26, 2005
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
I ain't afraid of no bat
I got to watch Ghostbusters under the moonlight at an outdoor cinema. Nice big cushion tons of snack food, some bitch pop aka peeler for drinks. My panties stayed on sadly. While watching Ghostbusters there were enormous actual bats flying overhead. I know it's supposed to be "good luck" when a bird s on you, but what does it mean when a bat drops a load of guano on your arm? I considered keeping it, but in the end it's just poop really. High protein insect poop.
Rejected topics that I didn't post about.
- King Kong was spectacular.
- Don't buy batteries at a discount store.
- The Sydney Aquarium Gift Shop has inadequate security for the likes of an artful dodger like myself. Let's just say that a few stuffed platypuses... platipusi? Plata ? Whatever, oh... and a wombat were set free from the gift shop.
Got word that my friend just got into Melbourne and is going to be leaving town soon. I also want to meet his niece who has been scientifically calculated to be adorable. I promised him we'd meet up so I'm cutting my Sydney trip short and headed back to my home away from home. I just booked a flight. I hope the Fits hasn't given my room away yet.
I hope it's not so -boilingly hot down in Melbs. So it will be a kranki kristmas in Melbourne after all.
Let me know if you want to buy a scrawny American boy breakfast or a beer. Sydney has used up lots of those pretty colored pictures that they pretend are money here.
Rejected topics that I didn't post about.
- King Kong was spectacular.
- Don't buy batteries at a discount store.
- The Sydney Aquarium Gift Shop has inadequate security for the likes of an artful dodger like myself. Let's just say that a few stuffed platypuses... platipusi? Plata ? Whatever, oh... and a wombat were set free from the gift shop.
Got word that my friend just got into Melbourne and is going to be leaving town soon. I also want to meet his niece who has been scientifically calculated to be adorable. I promised him we'd meet up so I'm cutting my Sydney trip short and headed back to my home away from home. I just booked a flight. I hope the Fits hasn't given my room away yet.
I hope it's not so -boilingly hot down in Melbs. So it will be a kranki kristmas in Melbourne after all.
Let me know if you want to buy a scrawny American boy breakfast or a beer. Sydney has used up lots of those pretty colored pictures that they pretend are money here.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Sexy Text Torture
I have a large backlog of events and pictures to post about as La Nadine has gone out of her way to expose me to the full spectrum of Australian culture ranging from fine dining to Lawn Bowling to gambling at the Dog Track. I'd just like to call all you Aussie Lawnbowlers out because I smoked everybody and won 3 out of the 6 lawn bowl matches I played against my "competition". For the record do not fib and tell La Nadine that she won a game because you think it will inspire her. It only leads to trash talking. Oh and it got her confidence up and then she did win two games. Not that I'm keeping track of the score. Trash talking has no place on the bowling green as it can distract one from the goal of Lawn bowling which is to consume enormous amounts of beer while barefoot in the sun.
I must say that I am impressed with how much the Aussies can and do drink.
I was exposed to some mild texting torture when I found out that some of my Aussie gal friends had picked up the Christmas spirit and skulled (chugged) it.
This was the text message I received from my torturers.
Everyone very very drunk. girls pashing, truth games being played. OUT OF CONTROL.
Woah! This then lead to a massive girl-on-girl pash (make-out) party. I felt that had I been there in Melbourne rather than Sydney I could have provided some kind of guidance and international encouragement to the festivities.
Then I received a second message from another one of the pash participants minutes later which read:
We are all massivly gone, discussing oral sex, and Snaz has been kissing girls. Repeatedly. You wish you were here.
I happened to be sitting in my guest room reading an old issue of Lucky magazine and waiting for the washer to finish my laundry. Wild night. I tried to text back but experienced some premature texting due to my level of excitement.
Snaz informs me that there is a pill I can take for that.
I must say that I am impressed with how much the Aussies can and do drink.
I was exposed to some mild texting torture when I found out that some of my Aussie gal friends had picked up the Christmas spirit and skulled (chugged) it.
This was the text message I received from my torturers.
Everyone very very drunk. girls pashing, truth games being played. OUT OF CONTROL.
Woah! This then lead to a massive girl-on-girl pash (make-out) party. I felt that had I been there in Melbourne rather than Sydney I could have provided some kind of guidance and international encouragement to the festivities.
Then I received a second message from another one of the pash participants minutes later which read:
We are all massivly gone, discussing oral sex, and Snaz has been kissing girls. Repeatedly. You wish you were here.
I happened to be sitting in my guest room reading an old issue of Lucky magazine and waiting for the washer to finish my laundry. Wild night. I tried to text back but experienced some premature texting due to my level of excitement.
Snaz informs me that there is a pill I can take for that.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
The Sages
The Boy Wonder was kind enough to drive me to the home of Mrs. Abbas to retrieve my bag. When I got to the apartment I was met by her incredibly sketchy teenage boys. The youngest kid was about 11 and invited me into the house. The middle brother was about 15 and asked why I was there. I began to explain that their mother had found my bag on the train and was kind enough to call me. She found Ms. Fits' number scrawled on the back of a boarding pass. If she hadn't looked so closely and been so thorough she'd have had no way of reaching me. Bless her kind heart. The oldest kid looked about 17 and picked up on my accent.
Big Bro: Where you from then?
Me: California. Los Angeles.
Big Bro: Wow, no way, that's where I'm going to go.
Little Bro: He wants to be an actor.
Me: (nodding and smiling) Okay then.
Mid Bro: Is California near Hollywood?
Me: Yeah, Hollywood is part of Los Angeles.
Big Bro: So Los Angeles is in Hollywood?
Me: Hollywood is a part of the city of Los Angeles.
Mid Bro: Which part?
Me: Hollywood. Hollywood is an area inside Los Angeles.
Lil Bro: You idiot, Los Angeles is big.
Mid Bro: Bigger than California?
Me: Is you mom coming back with my bag soon?
Big Bro: Yeah, she's getting it from up the room.
Lil Bro: What was in it?
Me: My camera, a t-shirt, some papers, and my ipod.
Mid Bro: Oh shit you have an ipod!
By this time Mrs. Abbas has returned with my bag and I am anxious to make the scrawny stooges a memory as soon as possible. I'm hoping that the Boy Wonder has kept the car's engine running.
Big Bro: You are lucky. How'd you get an ipod?
Me: I bought it. Actually it was a gift.
Lil Bro: You soo lucky. Mom, why'd you call this guy?
The Lil Bro is unable to control himself and reaches over for my ipod and "pretends" to steal it and then smiles. They are not making me comfortable but I want to give Mrs. Abbas the bottle of red wine I brought to thank her. I saw that Mrs. Abbas was wearing a berka and headpiece. Oops. I offer it and suggest that she could give it to some friends.
Mrs. Abbas: No, no. No wine. Muslim. All friends Muslim.
The next thing I remember was getting my bag and thanking her for her kindness. Were I religious I would have said a little prayer to smite the children and spare Mrs. Abbas from their unique brand of mental retardation. As I excused myself to leave the oldest son leaned over to me and took the bottle of wine from my hands. Mrs. Abbas was not happy, but I was almost out the door when I saw the youngest boy turn to his brother with the wine and announce. "We are going to get so pissed tonight."
And i do believe they will. Thank goodness for Mrs. Abbas. I can't imagine what would have happened if the little cretins had gotten their hands on the bag. All praise onto Allah.
Big Bro: Where you from then?
Me: California. Los Angeles.
Big Bro: Wow, no way, that's where I'm going to go.
Little Bro: He wants to be an actor.
Me: (nodding and smiling) Okay then.
Mid Bro: Is California near Hollywood?
Me: Yeah, Hollywood is part of Los Angeles.
Big Bro: So Los Angeles is in Hollywood?
Me: Hollywood is a part of the city of Los Angeles.
Mid Bro: Which part?
Me: Hollywood. Hollywood is an area inside Los Angeles.
Lil Bro: You idiot, Los Angeles is big.
Mid Bro: Bigger than California?
Me: Is you mom coming back with my bag soon?
Big Bro: Yeah, she's getting it from up the room.
Lil Bro: What was in it?
Me: My camera, a t-shirt, some papers, and my ipod.
Mid Bro: Oh shit you have an ipod!
By this time Mrs. Abbas has returned with my bag and I am anxious to make the scrawny stooges a memory as soon as possible. I'm hoping that the Boy Wonder has kept the car's engine running.
Big Bro: You are lucky. How'd you get an ipod?
Me: I bought it. Actually it was a gift.
Lil Bro: You soo lucky. Mom, why'd you call this guy?
The Lil Bro is unable to control himself and reaches over for my ipod and "pretends" to steal it and then smiles. They are not making me comfortable but I want to give Mrs. Abbas the bottle of red wine I brought to thank her. I saw that Mrs. Abbas was wearing a berka and headpiece. Oops. I offer it and suggest that she could give it to some friends.
Mrs. Abbas: No, no. No wine. Muslim. All friends Muslim.
The next thing I remember was getting my bag and thanking her for her kindness. Were I religious I would have said a little prayer to smite the children and spare Mrs. Abbas from their unique brand of mental retardation. As I excused myself to leave the oldest son leaned over to me and took the bottle of wine from my hands. Mrs. Abbas was not happy, but I was almost out the door when I saw the youngest boy turn to his brother with the wine and announce. "We are going to get so pissed tonight."
And i do believe they will. Thank goodness for Mrs. Abbas. I can't imagine what would have happened if the little cretins had gotten their hands on the bag. All praise onto Allah.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Hello Sanity
Hello sweet sanity. It's so good to be nestled in your comforting embrace once again. I have enjoyed my strange trip down sex, drugs and rock and roll lane, but I am very happy to see you again. How have you been?
So Meredith was freckle-dickin' awesome experience with a capital AWE. I think this is the longest that I've been away from my email/blog in quite some time. I am shocked at the fact that I have had no ill effects from my late night rocking and "rollin'" and frantic speedy dancing. It was nice to get a break from being on vacation. Enjoying yourself can be so demanding.
Some other highlights that I was too tired to mention.
- Some guy told me that I was a demi-god because I had some battery powered white lights on a string wrapped around my head. I told him that I was just a figment of his imagination but I was still happy that he was happy.
- This very sexed up hot girl started talking to be out of the blue and then suggested that I go back to her tent and "get fucked up with her and her friends." On the return to the tent it became quite clear that she was a raging lesbian. Plus she passed out on her chair seconds after we got back to camp.
- The Aussie band called You Am I put on a blisteringly good high energy show that reminded me of the Rolling Stones in their prime.
- My lovely hostess got a bit too fucked up on a combination of several drugs, and much to her surprise, began to see little wooden people climbing about on our picnic table.
- While wandering about looking for our camping area I met a bearded man. He seemed friendly so I brought him back to our campsite. He was very soft spoken when I met him and we discussed capitalism and international politics on the walk back to our camp area, but once there he put on my "magic lights" like some sort of techno crown of thorns and began to get drunk on power when we recognized that he was clearly Jesus. My kranki-sense began to tingle and I left before anything unpleasant happened but I found out later that he got a bit aggravated, began yelling and swearing at the "mortals." He was teased with mocking song parody and in a distraught state he ended up hugging my friend Nance while she had wandered off to have a quiet woodland pee. I imagine that it would be a bit disconcerting to get a surprise embrace from Jesus while answering the call of nature.
Why no pictures you may be asking. Well, I was in a great mood as I returned from my friend Jelly's place and I left my little green backpack with my camera and my ipod on the mother-fucking train. I gave it up for long gone after trying to track it down through the train stations. Then at dinner this evening I got a call from some guy whose mother in law had found my bag and turned it in. I was delighted and I'll be picking it up tomorrow at 10 am.
It makes me feel good that shortly before I left LA I found a wallet full of money and credit cards and went out of my way to return it to its owner. Karma seems to actually work here in Australia. Have I escaped the Karma-free zone?
At any rate, I'll slap some pictures up on the blog once I get my camera back and share more tales of Rex, Sugs and Drock and Roll.
It's been a good week to be krankiboy. Thank you to all the amazing people I got to spend time with at Meredith. It was a quintessential Australian experience that I won't soon forget despite taking two showers to wash the Grit and Grime off my body. God bless Mrs. Abbas who found my bag, with my camera, ipod, Slinky shirt and a few other important items. I'm going to get a ride to her place tomorrow to retrieve my things. I think I'd also like to get her a nice gift to thank her for tracking me down to return my bag. She sounds quite old so maybe a simple wet and frisky pash will suffice.
So Meredith was freckle-dickin' awesome experience with a capital AWE. I think this is the longest that I've been away from my email/blog in quite some time. I am shocked at the fact that I have had no ill effects from my late night rocking and "rollin'" and frantic speedy dancing. It was nice to get a break from being on vacation. Enjoying yourself can be so demanding.
Some other highlights that I was too tired to mention.
- Some guy told me that I was a demi-god because I had some battery powered white lights on a string wrapped around my head. I told him that I was just a figment of his imagination but I was still happy that he was happy.
- This very sexed up hot girl started talking to be out of the blue and then suggested that I go back to her tent and "get fucked up with her and her friends." On the return to the tent it became quite clear that she was a raging lesbian. Plus she passed out on her chair seconds after we got back to camp.
- The Aussie band called You Am I put on a blisteringly good high energy show that reminded me of the Rolling Stones in their prime.
- My lovely hostess got a bit too fucked up on a combination of several drugs, and much to her surprise, began to see little wooden people climbing about on our picnic table.
- While wandering about looking for our camping area I met a bearded man. He seemed friendly so I brought him back to our campsite. He was very soft spoken when I met him and we discussed capitalism and international politics on the walk back to our camp area, but once there he put on my "magic lights" like some sort of techno crown of thorns and began to get drunk on power when we recognized that he was clearly Jesus. My kranki-sense began to tingle and I left before anything unpleasant happened but I found out later that he got a bit aggravated, began yelling and swearing at the "mortals." He was teased with mocking song parody and in a distraught state he ended up hugging my friend Nance while she had wandered off to have a quiet woodland pee. I imagine that it would be a bit disconcerting to get a surprise embrace from Jesus while answering the call of nature.
Why no pictures you may be asking. Well, I was in a great mood as I returned from my friend Jelly's place and I left my little green backpack with my camera and my ipod on the mother-fucking train. I gave it up for long gone after trying to track it down through the train stations. Then at dinner this evening I got a call from some guy whose mother in law had found my bag and turned it in. I was delighted and I'll be picking it up tomorrow at 10 am.
It makes me feel good that shortly before I left LA I found a wallet full of money and credit cards and went out of my way to return it to its owner. Karma seems to actually work here in Australia. Have I escaped the Karma-free zone?
At any rate, I'll slap some pictures up on the blog once I get my camera back and share more tales of Rex, Sugs and Drock and Roll.
It's been a good week to be krankiboy. Thank you to all the amazing people I got to spend time with at Meredith. It was a quintessential Australian experience that I won't soon forget despite taking two showers to wash the Grit and Grime off my body. God bless Mrs. Abbas who found my bag, with my camera, ipod, Slinky shirt and a few other important items. I'm going to get a ride to her place tomorrow to retrieve my things. I think I'd also like to get her a nice gift to thank her for tracking me down to return my bag. She sounds quite old so maybe a simple wet and frisky pash will suffice.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
I made it back. Some fun observations in no particular order because my brain is still unable to do that type of mental heavy lifting at the moment.
Stuff that happened:
People all asked if I was Canadian when they heard my accent. I discovered that it was because Canadians get angry if you mistake them for Americans and Americans get mad when they find out that Canadians don't like them.
I rode on a band's roving bus as the very messy both mental and physically people
Saw a woman climb a tree no thicker than my arm, perch herself there and then manage to light a igrac -- cigarette..
More later so tired... Eyes are actually closing as I try to type this.
It might have been those last five beers. Or perhaps the five I had after that.
just woke up after dozing off at the computer. Time for bed.
Stuff that happened:
People all asked if I was Canadian when they heard my accent. I discovered that it was because Canadians get angry if you mistake them for Americans and Americans get mad when they find out that Canadians don't like them.
I rode on a band's roving bus as the very messy both mental and physically people
Saw a woman climb a tree no thicker than my arm, perch herself there and then manage to light a igrac -- cigarette..
More later so tired... Eyes are actually closing as I try to type this.
It might have been those last five beers. Or perhaps the five I had after that.
just woke up after dozing off at the computer. Time for bed.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Meredith is Calling
I would like to thank you for being the kind of people who read the strange, useless, mildly amusing, narcissistic flavor of retardation that I type onto this blog.
I will miss you while I am gone for three days tearing it up at Meredith. And if you are that person I spoke with in person today, I would like to apologize for spinning your head around, making you blush and imploding your brain all at once.
What can I say, I'm mysterious.
The Award-winning Ausculture.com has asked me to conduct an interview with 5 Australians. So if anybody would like to avail themselves for an in-person interview that would be Cool and the Gang with me.
My editor is a raging fucking lunatic who likes to jab her employees in the eyes with lit cigarettes. Other times she's not in such a jovial mood. Like the time I turned in my article 45 minutes late and she tore out my left kidney and stuffed it down my throat. It's cool though because she sometimes apologizes afterwards.
Now I must get my party energy sleep for Meredith. Pray to the heathen spirits that I return smiling and unscathed. Actually mildly scathed would be even better.
hippie hugs,
Krankiboy
I will miss you while I am gone for three days tearing it up at Meredith. And if you are that person I spoke with in person today, I would like to apologize for spinning your head around, making you blush and imploding your brain all at once.
What can I say, I'm mysterious.
The Award-winning Ausculture.com has asked me to conduct an interview with 5 Australians. So if anybody would like to avail themselves for an in-person interview that would be Cool and the Gang with me.
My editor is a raging fucking lunatic who likes to jab her employees in the eyes with lit cigarettes. Other times she's not in such a jovial mood. Like the time I turned in my article 45 minutes late and she tore out my left kidney and stuffed it down my throat. It's cool though because she sometimes apologizes afterwards.
Now I must get my party energy sleep for Meredith. Pray to the heathen spirits that I return smiling and unscathed. Actually mildly scathed would be even better.
hippie hugs,
Krankiboy
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
A Quest
So I'm a social guy who prefers to have people around me rather than being alone. When I am alone I feel much more vulnerable and when I am with others I feel I always have purpose to my life.
This is fine normally but at the moment my self-confidence has been slowly eroding. I need to prove to myself that I can do something impressive through hard work, focus and determination.
I have decided that I want to go on a solo quest. Just like the knights of old who would perform impressive deeds to prove their worth to the king. In this case the king is me and I need to prove to myself that I can accomplish a difficult task.
I'm really quite serious about this quest and I was trying to come up with what my quest should be but the thing about quests is that they are given to the knight/adventurer. Anything I can think of is too easy or too difficult.
I was also thinking of creating a permanent piece of art somewhere.
One of my favorite quotes goes something like "When you do things with confidence you are able to make a challenge fun and when you have fun you can accomplish amazing things."
Some ideas I've considered.
1) Slay a dragon. (Very difficult to find and if found it would be far too valuable to just kill it. Plus it's not very original.)
2) A Walkabout in the Australian bushland. (Sounds perhaps a bit dangerous)
3) Learn a martial art
4) Build a lasting work of art.
5) Conquer my fear of the water. Learn to swim and learn to surf.
If you feel like giving any serious suggestions I'd be happy to consider them. I'm leaning towards 3,4 or 5.
I hope to have some humorous content back here soon. I'm just not in that frame of mind at the moment.
- krankiboy
This is fine normally but at the moment my self-confidence has been slowly eroding. I need to prove to myself that I can do something impressive through hard work, focus and determination.
I have decided that I want to go on a solo quest. Just like the knights of old who would perform impressive deeds to prove their worth to the king. In this case the king is me and I need to prove to myself that I can accomplish a difficult task.
I'm really quite serious about this quest and I was trying to come up with what my quest should be but the thing about quests is that they are given to the knight/adventurer. Anything I can think of is too easy or too difficult.
I was also thinking of creating a permanent piece of art somewhere.
One of my favorite quotes goes something like "When you do things with confidence you are able to make a challenge fun and when you have fun you can accomplish amazing things."
Some ideas I've considered.
1) Slay a dragon. (Very difficult to find and if found it would be far too valuable to just kill it. Plus it's not very original.)
2) A Walkabout in the Australian bushland. (Sounds perhaps a bit dangerous)
3) Learn a martial art
4) Build a lasting work of art.
5) Conquer my fear of the water. Learn to swim and learn to surf.
If you feel like giving any serious suggestions I'd be happy to consider them. I'm leaning towards 3,4 or 5.
I hope to have some humorous content back here soon. I'm just not in that frame of mind at the moment.
- krankiboy
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Oversharing, Drizzling and Dreams.
So lately I have been on either the giving or the receiving end of a few email overshares. I have shared a bit too much with some people who probably didn't need to know what twisted and irrelevant thought popped into my head. I have also received a few emails that range from, I want you to be my new best friend (WTF?) to I want you to know that I may have been molested as a child. I would like to say that if anybody wishes to overshare with me please indicate that it is an overshare in the subject header. I will be taking extra precautions to avoid oversharing with any of you good and wholesome pagan people.
I spent the morning with some of my favorite Aussies in a light to mild drizzle of rain. We went to see some truly excellent art by um... Fred Williams and um... the other guy who does the colorful impressionist landscapes of the outback and um... it was pretty. I got to explore parts of downtown Melbourne and purchased a brand spanking new tent for the low low price of just 39 Australian Dollars. It is phat it is bright green and it is all mine. Why? Because we Americans are selfish fuckers and like big things. Nice and spacious for me to sprawl out. I swung by fluffy's place of work which counts towards Take A Seppo To Work Day and I immediately sprawled out on a bean bag chair thingie after scoping out her coworker-who, although cute, wasn't my type.
By this time I was thoroughly worn out and had to called in to cancel with my keeper (Ukulele) as my energy level went from low to no. Now its begun to rain heavily and I am going to relax and enjoy the soothing sound as it takes me off to the land of unconsciousness where penguins tend bar making frosty martinis, lizards can breakdance and every now and then I am able to fly.
So tell me about your dream and I (because I am inexplicably good at it) shall interpret your dream for you. The more details you provide the better my analysis will be.
What is that you say? You didn't have any dreams that you can remember? Well then fucking make something up and I'll tell you if it's bullshit or not. Just remember to be specific.
Has anybody here in Melbourne got any glow stuff or lanterns or light sticks or flashy lights that I can use to pimp my tent? A faux fur throw rug? Portable hot tub? Welcome mat? Comfy Pillows? Sleeping Bag? Crap, I forgot my bed roll at the store, I'll have to go back again. God only knows what else I might buy.
I spent the morning with some of my favorite Aussies in a light to mild drizzle of rain. We went to see some truly excellent art by um... Fred Williams and um... the other guy who does the colorful impressionist landscapes of the outback and um... it was pretty. I got to explore parts of downtown Melbourne and purchased a brand spanking new tent for the low low price of just 39 Australian Dollars. It is phat it is bright green and it is all mine. Why? Because we Americans are selfish fuckers and like big things. Nice and spacious for me to sprawl out. I swung by fluffy's place of work which counts towards Take A Seppo To Work Day and I immediately sprawled out on a bean bag chair thingie after scoping out her coworker-who, although cute, wasn't my type.
By this time I was thoroughly worn out and had to called in to cancel with my keeper (Ukulele) as my energy level went from low to no. Now its begun to rain heavily and I am going to relax and enjoy the soothing sound as it takes me off to the land of unconsciousness where penguins tend bar making frosty martinis, lizards can breakdance and every now and then I am able to fly.
So tell me about your dream and I (because I am inexplicably good at it) shall interpret your dream for you. The more details you provide the better my analysis will be.
What is that you say? You didn't have any dreams that you can remember? Well then fucking make something up and I'll tell you if it's bullshit or not. Just remember to be specific.
Has anybody here in Melbourne got any glow stuff or lanterns or light sticks or flashy lights that I can use to pimp my tent? A faux fur throw rug? Portable hot tub? Welcome mat? Comfy Pillows? Sleeping Bag? Crap, I forgot my bed roll at the store, I'll have to go back again. God only knows what else I might buy.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Take your Kranki to Work Day
So I'm all excited that I get to be taken to work like some strange foreign mascot. Fits worked it out so that folks would be whisking me around doing their jobs and I could entertain myself and others in the process.
Of course I woke up on Friday feeling terribly sick. Sore throat, then became a head cold and then a cough.
I was going stir crazy after two days of being house bound and I decided to take B.E. for a walk. Then I was whisked away to the RRR Barbecue Benefit. I love crowd watching so I found a seat in the shade of somebody's umbrella off to the side and began to listen to the music as I scanned the crowd.
I don't know what it is about people watching that is so entertaining but since I was a little kid it has fascinated me to see the huge variety of people that wander across this planet of ours.
Some of my Favorite People Watching Spots are the LAX airport, Melrose Avenue also in L.A., the Lower East side of Manhattan, La Rambala in Barcelona, Amsterdam Open Market area and Haight Ashbury street in San Francisco. After today I would have to add Melbourne to that list.
I must be off to bed to get back all my strength for Meredith. I hope I get to sleep in the krankivan unless of course a large and friendly tent makes itself available.
I hope I'm 100% so I can get back to Take Kranki to Work Day. That could make for some interesting blogging.
Of course I woke up on Friday feeling terribly sick. Sore throat, then became a head cold and then a cough.
I was going stir crazy after two days of being house bound and I decided to take B.E. for a walk. Then I was whisked away to the RRR Barbecue Benefit. I love crowd watching so I found a seat in the shade of somebody's umbrella off to the side and began to listen to the music as I scanned the crowd.
I don't know what it is about people watching that is so entertaining but since I was a little kid it has fascinated me to see the huge variety of people that wander across this planet of ours.
Some of my Favorite People Watching Spots are the LAX airport, Melrose Avenue also in L.A., the Lower East side of Manhattan, La Rambala in Barcelona, Amsterdam Open Market area and Haight Ashbury street in San Francisco. After today I would have to add Melbourne to that list.
I must be off to bed to get back all my strength for Meredith. I hope I get to sleep in the krankivan unless of course a large and friendly tent makes itself available.
I hope I'm 100% so I can get back to Take Kranki to Work Day. That could make for some interesting blogging.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Kranki needs...
This game that came to us from Quirkie is lovely fun.
You type "(your name) needs" into Google and post the first 10 results.
I also want to thank Fluffy for pimping my blog. There are a few more things to add on but golly gee she did a kick arse job with those picture links.
Oh what fun and oh how amazingly accurate this google is. I had to do Kranki with the traditional spelling to get results but they are remarkable accurate.
1) Kranki needs... to get laid.
Amen brother, Amen! It's the gospel truth. I am 90% sure I remember how it's done.
2) Kranki needs... to take a flame thrower to this forum! Kill them newbie cooties!
But I like this forum and I encourage newbies. And as my voting record shows I am pro cooties.
3) Kranki needs... another haircut.
Again this is stunningly correct. I am in danger of sprouting a semi mullet if I let a few more weeks pass.
4) Kranki needs... to be BANNED FOREVER.
That seems a tad harsh. How about half of forever instead?
5) Kranki needs... about 7 and ½ hours of sleep to ...
To what? To do what?? Pretty much to do anything properly I suppose.
6) Kranki needs... an Alka-Seltzer. Plop, plop. Fizz, fizz.
7) Kranki needs... to change his diapers. His whiny review stinks! ...
8) Kranki needs to step off a bit and keep his comments to himself. Anyway, it's
time for me to hit the trail. But before I go, I want to know if you're ...
What? "if you're..." what?
9) Kranki needs... some warm milk to settle his nerves.
And if I could wake up in 2008 with a sizeable bank account that would be nice too.
10) Kranki needs... to find some blog inspiration so he doesn't have to steal post ideas from other bloggers.
Okay, I wrote that last one myself.
You type "(your name) needs" into Google and post the first 10 results.
I also want to thank Fluffy for pimping my blog. There are a few more things to add on but golly gee she did a kick arse job with those picture links.
Oh what fun and oh how amazingly accurate this google is. I had to do Kranki with the traditional spelling to get results but they are remarkable accurate.
1) Kranki needs... to get laid.
Amen brother, Amen! It's the gospel truth. I am 90% sure I remember how it's done.
2) Kranki needs... to take a flame thrower to this forum! Kill them newbie cooties!
But I like this forum and I encourage newbies. And as my voting record shows I am pro cooties.
3) Kranki needs... another haircut.
Again this is stunningly correct. I am in danger of sprouting a semi mullet if I let a few more weeks pass.
4) Kranki needs... to be BANNED FOREVER.
That seems a tad harsh. How about half of forever instead?
5) Kranki needs... about 7 and ½ hours of sleep to ...
To what? To do what?? Pretty much to do anything properly I suppose.
6) Kranki needs... an Alka-Seltzer. Plop, plop. Fizz, fizz.
7) Kranki needs... to change his diapers. His whiny review stinks! ...
8) Kranki needs to step off a bit and keep his comments to himself. Anyway, it's
time for me to hit the trail. But before I go, I want to know if you're ...
What? "if you're..." what?
9) Kranki needs... some warm milk to settle his nerves.
And if I could wake up in 2008 with a sizeable bank account that would be nice too.
10) Kranki needs... to find some blog inspiration so he doesn't have to steal post ideas from other bloggers.
Okay, I wrote that last one myself.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
DEAR BODY,
DEAR BODY...
Dear Body,
I am writing to you to take responsibility for the actions that took place last night that affected you and those that you hold close to you.
First, I want to say I try to be a good Brain to you and do what's best for everybody's health and happiness. With that said please accept my apologies for the state that you find yourself in this morning. I feel somewhat responsible.
I am sorry I put soo much beer in you. In hindsight it seems like an excessive amount to give you, but I just wanted you to be able to relax and enjoy yourself. You did seem to have a nice time lying down in the grass after you finished off that jug.
I want to specifically apologize to throat for putting him around all that nasty cigarette smoke. I wasn't thinking of your best interests when I did that.
I hold Mouth partly responsible for what happened throughout the rest of the evening. He quickly opened himself up and sucked on that little piece of paper before I even noticed.
It wasn't all bad, was it? I think everybody was impressed when you performed that amazing, unprompted one-man Christina Aguilera dance celebration. Despite the hair Legs looked sultry sexy in that snake-skin skirt.
I am especially sorry to heart for putting him in close proximity to that very rude random girl from Brisbane. I totally led you astray and dropped the ball on that one. Nobody told me that Brisbane girls could me so unfriendly, negative, uptight and also unfriendly. We didn't deserve to be so charming and effervescent only to be treated like a leper with a bugar in his nose.
Sorry you had the ego-bruising misfortune of ending up spending time with somebody who had absolutely zero interest in you as a human being other than when she needed you to get her a lighter or a glass of water or entertain her like a trained monkey-tard. For the record I think that you actually looked quite lovely in that red lingerie top that they made you put on.
I shouldn't have let Fingers send out that real downer of a text message to a few of our lovely friends. To be honest, I wasn't thinking as clearly as I normally do at that point in the night.
I was flat-out 100% wrong to tell you to climb out onto that thin, rusted, crumbly, metal roof where somebody could have easily fallen through and been severely hurt. Not unlike the story I was told about that guy last year who fell from that exact roof, partially fractured his neck, and required six months of rehabilitation. That story should have been a valuable clue that I was putting us all in danger. That was my bad completely.
All in all it was foolish and not what I was hoping for when the night was young. I only hope that you'll forgive me if I acted irresponsibly. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Please give yourself a long, warm hug from me. I promise to try and make it up to you this weekend.
Hazily yours,
Brain
P.S. Mouth says he's "way, totally soo, sooo sorry."
Dear Body,
I am writing to you to take responsibility for the actions that took place last night that affected you and those that you hold close to you.
First, I want to say I try to be a good Brain to you and do what's best for everybody's health and happiness. With that said please accept my apologies for the state that you find yourself in this morning. I feel somewhat responsible.
I am sorry I put soo much beer in you. In hindsight it seems like an excessive amount to give you, but I just wanted you to be able to relax and enjoy yourself. You did seem to have a nice time lying down in the grass after you finished off that jug.
I want to specifically apologize to throat for putting him around all that nasty cigarette smoke. I wasn't thinking of your best interests when I did that.
I hold Mouth partly responsible for what happened throughout the rest of the evening. He quickly opened himself up and sucked on that little piece of paper before I even noticed.
It wasn't all bad, was it? I think everybody was impressed when you performed that amazing, unprompted one-man Christina Aguilera dance celebration. Despite the hair Legs looked sultry sexy in that snake-skin skirt.
I am especially sorry to heart for putting him in close proximity to that very rude random girl from Brisbane. I totally led you astray and dropped the ball on that one. Nobody told me that Brisbane girls could me so unfriendly, negative, uptight and also unfriendly. We didn't deserve to be so charming and effervescent only to be treated like a leper with a bugar in his nose.
Sorry you had the ego-bruising misfortune of ending up spending time with somebody who had absolutely zero interest in you as a human being other than when she needed you to get her a lighter or a glass of water or entertain her like a trained monkey-tard. For the record I think that you actually looked quite lovely in that red lingerie top that they made you put on.
I shouldn't have let Fingers send out that real downer of a text message to a few of our lovely friends. To be honest, I wasn't thinking as clearly as I normally do at that point in the night.
I was flat-out 100% wrong to tell you to climb out onto that thin, rusted, crumbly, metal roof where somebody could have easily fallen through and been severely hurt. Not unlike the story I was told about that guy last year who fell from that exact roof, partially fractured his neck, and required six months of rehabilitation. That story should have been a valuable clue that I was putting us all in danger. That was my bad completely.
All in all it was foolish and not what I was hoping for when the night was young. I only hope that you'll forgive me if I acted irresponsibly. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Please give yourself a long, warm hug from me. I promise to try and make it up to you this weekend.
Hazily yours,
Brain
P.S. Mouth says he's "way, totally soo, sooo sorry."
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Meredith???
The details of Meredith have been hazy at best. What should I expect to find there? I want to make sure I pack properly.
Monday, November 28, 2005
So far...
So far I haven't had much urge to blog now that I'm in Australia. I know some people like to document their travels and I'm sure I will at some point but I've been far too busy meeting oodles of new friends here in Melbourne.
I feel like it's hard to blog about my experiences here without sounding overly glib or potentially hurting somebody's feelings if I don't mention them. I can't talk about some friends without including everybody.
I haven't been able to use the ATM here and trying to call my bank in the US was hugely frustrating. My hosts have been incredibly kind and generous and make me feel incredibly welcome. They're everything I could have hoped for and life here at the commune is smoothe and simple.
I can tell you that I got to hear a local "poet" share his "brilliance" with a very special poem entitled Itty Bitty Titties and I ate a huge portion of marinated kangaroo steak. Oh and my friend presented me with a masterfully crafted plastic aboriginal hunter. I know it's a good one because it was manufactured in China. How much fucking plastic do they have in China to make all the utterly useless crap they produce? And why in the name of Sweet Lucifer's bean bag do we buy them?
I miss Freckle Dick and Ass Breath. Every time I see a friend's dog or even a dog on the street I wish they were here. It's nice to be pack leader. It's also odd because no matter how much I seem to drink I haven't gotten that buzzed feeling. Perhaps that's for the best as my head should be getting screwed on tighter.
I'll do my best to find the funny in the next few days. I think it's best if I get away from all this boring personal drivel anyway.
Perhaps you could send me some inspiration or idea to help me jumpstart my brain. Something in my head is just completely off and I've gotten into this very serious state of mind. I'll joke around as usual but my heart isn't into it. I hope I can find a way to have fun when my future is so wide open. I want to be able to enjoy the moment instead of worrying about my murky future.
Any and all suggestions for achieving this are sincerely welcome. My life has no creative focus or structure. I'm in dire need of both.
Blogitty blog blog blah blah. Tired - bed calls.
I feel like it's hard to blog about my experiences here without sounding overly glib or potentially hurting somebody's feelings if I don't mention them. I can't talk about some friends without including everybody.
I haven't been able to use the ATM here and trying to call my bank in the US was hugely frustrating. My hosts have been incredibly kind and generous and make me feel incredibly welcome. They're everything I could have hoped for and life here at the commune is smoothe and simple.
I can tell you that I got to hear a local "poet" share his "brilliance" with a very special poem entitled Itty Bitty Titties and I ate a huge portion of marinated kangaroo steak. Oh and my friend presented me with a masterfully crafted plastic aboriginal hunter. I know it's a good one because it was manufactured in China. How much fucking plastic do they have in China to make all the utterly useless crap they produce? And why in the name of Sweet Lucifer's bean bag do we buy them?
I miss Freckle Dick and Ass Breath. Every time I see a friend's dog or even a dog on the street I wish they were here. It's nice to be pack leader. It's also odd because no matter how much I seem to drink I haven't gotten that buzzed feeling. Perhaps that's for the best as my head should be getting screwed on tighter.
I'll do my best to find the funny in the next few days. I think it's best if I get away from all this boring personal drivel anyway.
Perhaps you could send me some inspiration or idea to help me jumpstart my brain. Something in my head is just completely off and I've gotten into this very serious state of mind. I'll joke around as usual but my heart isn't into it. I hope I can find a way to have fun when my future is so wide open. I want to be able to enjoy the moment instead of worrying about my murky future.
Any and all suggestions for achieving this are sincerely welcome. My life has no creative focus or structure. I'm in dire need of both.
Blogitty blog blog blah blah. Tired - bed calls.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Hey Australia, let's spoon!
I only pray that the Australians enjoy me half as much as the Germans love their Beloved Hasselhoff.
I'm on my way out the door.
kranki
xoxo
I am on my way to the airport.
Resistance is Futile
If there is a hole to be filled somewhere, anywhere, Capitalism will be there to try and stuff it full of greed. It doesn't matter what their age. Just like a dishonest mechanic who tampers with your car, if there isn't a problem then for the love of Money hurry up and create one so somebody will pay you to solve it.
Personally, I think that anybody who would design such a product should be charged with Statutory Rape. Or perhaps legally it would be considered Pre-Rape. Almost... I can only assume that they will soon launch a series of Starter Pre-Menstrual Tampons for the 4 to 8 year olds. Maybe they can get the Power Puff Girls to be the spokes-toons for this essential item.
Then there will be the Sponge Bob birth-control sponges for youngling gals. It opens up a whole new market. Embrace the future people. This is the greatest invention since bubble gum cigarettes or toxic waste. It's as good as both of those ideas put together!
Bottom line, it's simply going to make your vagina more fun.
They should make some for the 4th of July and New Years Eve that explode sparkles and confetti when you tug on the string. How patriotic is your vagina? Weeeeeeeee! The Colors!
Still skeptical? This is progress! Be open to it. Yeah, I know the concept seems strange and icky and almost violating, but you have to relax and not fight it. Sure, you may find that you are feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the idea at first and it yes, it might even hurt a bit. But if you resist the notion it's only going to make you feel worse. Now be a good little consumer. Just lay back, stay perfectly still, and let the Greed Machine do what it wants. Remember it's all going to be okay, because Capitalism loves you.
Personally, I think that anybody who would design such a product should be charged with Statutory Rape. Or perhaps legally it would be considered Pre-Rape. Almost... I can only assume that they will soon launch a series of Starter Pre-Menstrual Tampons for the 4 to 8 year olds. Maybe they can get the Power Puff Girls to be the spokes-toons for this essential item.
Then there will be the Sponge Bob birth-control sponges for youngling gals. It opens up a whole new market. Embrace the future people. This is the greatest invention since bubble gum cigarettes or toxic waste. It's as good as both of those ideas put together!
Bottom line, it's simply going to make your vagina more fun.
They should make some for the 4th of July and New Years Eve that explode sparkles and confetti when you tug on the string. How patriotic is your vagina? Weeeeeeeee! The Colors!
Still skeptical? This is progress! Be open to it. Yeah, I know the concept seems strange and icky and almost violating, but you have to relax and not fight it. Sure, you may find that you are feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the idea at first and it yes, it might even hurt a bit. But if you resist the notion it's only going to make you feel worse. Now be a good little consumer. Just lay back, stay perfectly still, and let the Greed Machine do what it wants. Remember it's all going to be okay, because Capitalism loves you.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
It's Hard Being a Girl
It's hard being a girl.
Everyday they are put under intense social pressure. Pressure to wear exactly the right clothes, to make precisely the right friends, to put out just enough to keep the guys on the Varsity Basketball team happy. Somebody decided that Pre-teen girls don't have enough crap to deal. So now they've come up with this.
Did that say they come in "fun flavors?" Red Menace? It's either biting satire or a sign that the end of the world is near.
"Put this in your vagina!"
"Wait... But... why?! You're scaring me."
"It does exactly what its told, it puts the pre-pon in the hole."
Sorry, fo the outburst. It's just stress. I've been feeling a bit pre-pre-menstrual today.
*Thanks go out to Carson for sharing.
Everyday they are put under intense social pressure. Pressure to wear exactly the right clothes, to make precisely the right friends, to put out just enough to keep the guys on the Varsity Basketball team happy. Somebody decided that Pre-teen girls don't have enough crap to deal. So now they've come up with this.
Did that say they come in "fun flavors?" Red Menace? It's either biting satire or a sign that the end of the world is near.
"Put this in your vagina!"
"Wait... But... why?! You're scaring me."
"It does exactly what its told, it puts the pre-pon in the hole."
Sorry, fo the outburst. It's just stress. I've been feeling a bit pre-pre-menstrual today.
*Thanks go out to Carson for sharing.
It got me out of the house. I think that's good.
Ungh. I just got back from a party at my the former residence of my friend Blake and his roommate... um, it's a pseudonym so let's just call him Snagglepuss. They were throwing one last bash at a pad that has seen it's share of parties. Some good, some bad and, on this particular night, 86% ugly. It was what I have heard described as a sausage party. My friend Blake seemed vexed by the fact that all the attractive single women apparently had to stay home and wash their hair tonight.
Fortunately for me I had the sense to invite my friends Giggles, Hammer and his delightful g.f. Carlie to the party so I was assured to have some people to talk to. Although I thank Hammer for graciously putting his mouth in park after inadvertently rambling on for 25 minutes. Oh and don't eat anything called a Margarita cookie.
Perhaps I should have been wary since this apartment is the same place that the infamous and horrible bachelor party experience took place. To be fair there were a hanful of cool chicks in attendance but they were either friends of mine or girlfriends of friends or already spoken for. I promise not to use the word "friends" again in this post. It was as if somebody opened a can of dog food and these are the "women" who caught the scent of the beefy goodness.
It's actually impressive to be able to throw a party in L.A. and not have at least a handful of attractive single women a.k.a. crazy, anorexic actress/waitress types show up by sheer accident.
Their new apartment is supposed to be a nice step up in neighborhood and style. Perhaps that will provide the sexual catnip recipe that these two bachelor boys need to dissuade the woofers and attract the sex kittens.
I stuck around with my friends just having a good chat and drinking the free drinks. My recipe is 1 part ice to 3 parts hard alcohol. As things quickly wound down, there were about 8 people still at the party when Snagglepuss singled me out and said somewhat playfully "Okay, there Kranki, I'm kicking you out." What? Dude, excuse me for sticking it out at your lame ass neurotic 34 year old virgin man convention. I thought I was doing a good dead. It's always nice when you get playfully but seriously thrown out by your "friend" in front of your other friends. It was nearly enough to make me want to take a shit in the crisper*.
Two men in their thirties with good incomes should not be sharing an apartment unless they are gay, junkies, heterosexually co-dependent or man children. I love you Blake, I do. However, you might as well be sharing an apartment with your uptight aunt Erma. This viscous cycle of sterile, bachelor living is just further proof that I should never again share an apartment with any male ever. All my best roommates have been women. Even in a post-apocalyptic future in which I lived with my mom, I'd at least get to enjoy gourmet meals every day. Right up until the moment I finished my curried chicken salad, wiped the sauce from my mouth and slit my wrists** in the bathtub.
* The vegetable bin of a refrigerator. I don't know what you foreigners call things yet.
**Although for the serious suicide-minded individual, it's far more effective to slice into your artery just above the elbow. But don't even consider that until you've maxed out every credit card you could own and visited at least 6 of the seven wonders of the world.
Fortunately for me I had the sense to invite my friends Giggles, Hammer and his delightful g.f. Carlie to the party so I was assured to have some people to talk to. Although I thank Hammer for graciously putting his mouth in park after inadvertently rambling on for 25 minutes. Oh and don't eat anything called a Margarita cookie.
Perhaps I should have been wary since this apartment is the same place that the infamous and horrible bachelor party experience took place. To be fair there were a hanful of cool chicks in attendance but they were either friends of mine or girlfriends of friends or already spoken for. I promise not to use the word "friends" again in this post. It was as if somebody opened a can of dog food and these are the "women" who caught the scent of the beefy goodness.
It's actually impressive to be able to throw a party in L.A. and not have at least a handful of attractive single women a.k.a. crazy, anorexic actress/waitress types show up by sheer accident.
Their new apartment is supposed to be a nice step up in neighborhood and style. Perhaps that will provide the sexual catnip recipe that these two bachelor boys need to dissuade the woofers and attract the sex kittens.
I stuck around with my friends just having a good chat and drinking the free drinks. My recipe is 1 part ice to 3 parts hard alcohol. As things quickly wound down, there were about 8 people still at the party when Snagglepuss singled me out and said somewhat playfully "Okay, there Kranki, I'm kicking you out." What? Dude, excuse me for sticking it out at your lame ass neurotic 34 year old virgin man convention. I thought I was doing a good dead. It's always nice when you get playfully but seriously thrown out by your "friend" in front of your other friends. It was nearly enough to make me want to take a shit in the crisper*.
Two men in their thirties with good incomes should not be sharing an apartment unless they are gay, junkies, heterosexually co-dependent or man children. I love you Blake, I do. However, you might as well be sharing an apartment with your uptight aunt Erma. This viscous cycle of sterile, bachelor living is just further proof that I should never again share an apartment with any male ever. All my best roommates have been women. Even in a post-apocalyptic future in which I lived with my mom, I'd at least get to enjoy gourmet meals every day. Right up until the moment I finished my curried chicken salad, wiped the sauce from my mouth and slit my wrists** in the bathtub.
* The vegetable bin of a refrigerator. I don't know what you foreigners call things yet.
**Although for the serious suicide-minded individual, it's far more effective to slice into your artery just above the elbow. But don't even consider that until you've maxed out every credit card you could own and visited at least 6 of the seven wonders of the world.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Booty Snafu?
There is something electric in the air that says, blog young man, blog like your life depends on it. I am a big fan of words such as blog that can be used as both nouns or verbs.
Like the word "Fuck."
Since we're on the topic of fucking and sex. Must you always have to drag this blog right down into the gutter and duct tape its mouth shut?
So here is my interesting question that I pose to you. Under what unusual circumstances did you or (if you're a shy pussy) somebody you know, lose your virginity or have a horribly awkward dating experience.
I don't have to share mine because A) It's boring and B) I already posted this traumatic moment. for your entertainment.
So let's make with the sexy embarrassy tell-all mcstories people. I showed you mine now show us yours. I'm throwing down on all y'all mutha-fuckas. Top my titillatingly twisted true tale. Bring it, bitch!
Like the word "Fuck."
Since we're on the topic of fucking and sex. Must you always have to drag this blog right down into the gutter and duct tape its mouth shut?
So here is my interesting question that I pose to you. Under what unusual circumstances did you or (if you're a shy pussy) somebody you know, lose your virginity or have a horribly awkward dating experience.
I don't have to share mine because A) It's boring and B) I already posted this traumatic moment. for your entertainment.
So let's make with the sexy embarrassy tell-all mcstories people. I showed you mine now show us yours. I'm throwing down on all y'all mutha-fuckas. Top my titillatingly twisted true tale. Bring it, bitch!
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
A Tattoo Tutorial
As somebody who has no tattoos, I am the perfect person to pass judgment on them and provide expert advice to those seeking tattoo advice.
Here are some tips to avoid getting a tattoo that you might someday regret.
First of all do not get a tattoo that is going to last longer than your relationship.
No amount of club drugs you can take will make it disappear off your arm.
"I'm rollin' pretty hard. Dude get me a water, I'm gonna call and leave another message on Shaina's answering machine."
Don't have your tattoo inked by the new intern at the head shop.
Remember that your body is being displayed as well as the tattoo. It's sad when a once menacing wolf on top of a mountain looks like he's standing on a wobbly hunk of Jello.
If you are a sappy idiot with no writing ability, stick to a nice flaming skull or butterfly. Or perhaps a lovely greeting card.
Consider getting something you might still enjoy after you stop playing Dungeons & Dragons or decide to end your Professional Wrestling career.
"Hey, Ramone, can you ink me a real bad-ass tat? Like um... a skull with a bomb smashin' through his head and, like, the number 13 below that and wait-- also I love my dog, like a lot, and I want to tell the world. So maybe also a awesome-looking fire hydrant that says, like, Dogs Rule or sumthin tight!
"Yo! Dude, it's perfect, thanks man!"
Also, avoid going for something a bit too cute.
"How about something with frogs and flowers?"
Rule of thumb: If it's too adorable to go on a baby bib...
Remember that Tattoos can become addictive.
"Yes, that's right. I was considering getting my doctorate in psychology but then I realized I needed that money to put towards my Hello Kitty tattoo."
Yes, I understand you might like wild animals. I hear that they can actually put images on T-Shirts nowadays.
"Check out that ferret killing a rat. The tattoo guy gave me a discount so that one only cost me 400 dollars. Plus he did the snake's tongue for free."
That's obviously not a tattoo, just a very unique looking birth mark.
"It's not going to bruise my skin at all, is it?"
Ummmm. Why??
Don't use your body to advertise for big business. "Next I'm gonna get me a big Budweiser logo on my thigh."
Don't get tattooed just to impress the ladies.
Darth Vader looks like he's got a lazy eye.
"Shusshh, stay perfectly still, there's a huge spider right above your knee. Oh, fuck, that scares me every time."
Honestly, I think it's great to be passionate about a cause. Something you really believe in that... what was I saying? Anyway, I'll be right back I just got this weird sudden craving for a Wendy's Hamburger.
Great, now all the animals who can read are glad to have your support.
"You remember that long boring scene in Lord of the Rings with the Treant and the Hobbits? Well guess what!?"
I think anybody who sees this next tattoo has probably already got sex on their mind. It just makes your next visit to the gynecologist all the more awkward.
"I was just noticing your tattoo and was wondering if you'd like to accompany me for dinner. Then maybe we could hold hands and split a milkshake afterwards."
"Excuse me? What do you mean you're not attracted to me?
"Well how about now?"
What the fuck is that? Some kind of hairy, eyeless, ant-eater goat-boar penis?!
Look a cute little Mogwai Puffer fish.
"Yeah, I saw the movie Braveheart. It was pretty good."
When you tell the tattoo inker that you want him to draw a huge cock on your left arm it's important to be specific.
Remember it's best to display your tattoo with pride and quiet dignity.
Here are some tattoos that I actually liked.
Here are some tips to avoid getting a tattoo that you might someday regret.
First of all do not get a tattoo that is going to last longer than your relationship.
No amount of club drugs you can take will make it disappear off your arm.
"I'm rollin' pretty hard. Dude get me a water, I'm gonna call and leave another message on Shaina's answering machine."
Don't have your tattoo inked by the new intern at the head shop.
Remember that your body is being displayed as well as the tattoo. It's sad when a once menacing wolf on top of a mountain looks like he's standing on a wobbly hunk of Jello.
If you are a sappy idiot with no writing ability, stick to a nice flaming skull or butterfly. Or perhaps a lovely greeting card.
Consider getting something you might still enjoy after you stop playing Dungeons & Dragons or decide to end your Professional Wrestling career.
"Hey, Ramone, can you ink me a real bad-ass tat? Like um... a skull with a bomb smashin' through his head and, like, the number 13 below that and wait-- also I love my dog, like a lot, and I want to tell the world. So maybe also a awesome-looking fire hydrant that says, like, Dogs Rule or sumthin tight!
"Yo! Dude, it's perfect, thanks man!"
Also, avoid going for something a bit too cute.
"How about something with frogs and flowers?"
Rule of thumb: If it's too adorable to go on a baby bib...
Remember that Tattoos can become addictive.
"Yes, that's right. I was considering getting my doctorate in psychology but then I realized I needed that money to put towards my Hello Kitty tattoo."
Yes, I understand you might like wild animals. I hear that they can actually put images on T-Shirts nowadays.
"Check out that ferret killing a rat. The tattoo guy gave me a discount so that one only cost me 400 dollars. Plus he did the snake's tongue for free."
That's obviously not a tattoo, just a very unique looking birth mark.
"It's not going to bruise my skin at all, is it?"
Ummmm. Why??
Don't use your body to advertise for big business. "Next I'm gonna get me a big Budweiser logo on my thigh."
Don't get tattooed just to impress the ladies.
Darth Vader looks like he's got a lazy eye.
"Shusshh, stay perfectly still, there's a huge spider right above your knee. Oh, fuck, that scares me every time."
Honestly, I think it's great to be passionate about a cause. Something you really believe in that... what was I saying? Anyway, I'll be right back I just got this weird sudden craving for a Wendy's Hamburger.
Great, now all the animals who can read are glad to have your support.
"You remember that long boring scene in Lord of the Rings with the Treant and the Hobbits? Well guess what!?"
I think anybody who sees this next tattoo has probably already got sex on their mind. It just makes your next visit to the gynecologist all the more awkward.
"I was just noticing your tattoo and was wondering if you'd like to accompany me for dinner. Then maybe we could hold hands and split a milkshake afterwards."
"Excuse me? What do you mean you're not attracted to me?
"Well how about now?"
What the fuck is that? Some kind of hairy, eyeless, ant-eater goat-boar penis?!
Look a cute little Mogwai Puffer fish.
"Yeah, I saw the movie Braveheart. It was pretty good."
When you tell the tattoo inker that you want him to draw a huge cock on your left arm it's important to be specific.
Remember it's best to display your tattoo with pride and quiet dignity.
Here are some tattoos that I actually liked.
Kranki Vacation
In just over a week I will be leaving for my Australian excursion to see some of the funniest, dearest, most clever and kind group of friends that I have.
It's hard to imagine that I would never have had a chance of meeting any of these people if I hadn't started writing a blog. I had intended it to be just a nice way to record my absurd thoughts, stories and musings without having to actually organize it in any way.
Then you find out that people, actual people, are reading your writing and getting your warped version of reality and often coming back to read more. So what was just supposed to be some pseudo-literary masturbation on my part became a link to this weird new world.
Shit, I haven't written anything funny or remotely kranki in this post. I've disappointed you just as I anxiously look forward to disappointing some of you in person. You'll be able to spot me as I will be the scrawny guy who looks as if he's been trapped on a plane for over 15 hours straight. I intend to keep myself unconscious, sedated, intoxicated, tranquilized and generally detatched from the conscious world for the duration.
My god! Who will be sitting next to me for all that time? I abhor standing in an elevator with people for anything more than 3 floors. I pray to the unholy spirits of chaos to be merciful on me. Nobody with a pungent perspiration problem, not some woman with 700 pictures of her grandchildren or her cats. Nobody who wants to make it their mission to be my new best friend or to share the story of their life. Not some person with one of those persistent, hacking coughs. Nobody who is wearing far too much perfume or cologne. No droolers, tweakers or talkers and above all please, please no body odor issues. How about a nice well-mannered, young Asian girl who doesn't take up much space, gets up once to use the bathroom the entire flight and is far too shy to engage in anything that remotely resembles a conversation. Hear my humble pagan prayers for me. Come on Fate, I'm counting on you. If you help me out I'll bring you back a fuzzy koala keychain.
P.S. Also No couples into P.D.A and no children under 14.
It's hard to imagine that I would never have had a chance of meeting any of these people if I hadn't started writing a blog. I had intended it to be just a nice way to record my absurd thoughts, stories and musings without having to actually organize it in any way.
Then you find out that people, actual people, are reading your writing and getting your warped version of reality and often coming back to read more. So what was just supposed to be some pseudo-literary masturbation on my part became a link to this weird new world.
Shit, I haven't written anything funny or remotely kranki in this post. I've disappointed you just as I anxiously look forward to disappointing some of you in person. You'll be able to spot me as I will be the scrawny guy who looks as if he's been trapped on a plane for over 15 hours straight. I intend to keep myself unconscious, sedated, intoxicated, tranquilized and generally detatched from the conscious world for the duration.
My god! Who will be sitting next to me for all that time? I abhor standing in an elevator with people for anything more than 3 floors. I pray to the unholy spirits of chaos to be merciful on me. Nobody with a pungent perspiration problem, not some woman with 700 pictures of her grandchildren or her cats. Nobody who wants to make it their mission to be my new best friend or to share the story of their life. Not some person with one of those persistent, hacking coughs. Nobody who is wearing far too much perfume or cologne. No droolers, tweakers or talkers and above all please, please no body odor issues. How about a nice well-mannered, young Asian girl who doesn't take up much space, gets up once to use the bathroom the entire flight and is far too shy to engage in anything that remotely resembles a conversation. Hear my humble pagan prayers for me. Come on Fate, I'm counting on you. If you help me out I'll bring you back a fuzzy koala keychain.
P.S. Also No couples into P.D.A and no children under 14.
Monday, November 14, 2005
"Dude, sweet tattoo."
This photo was taken by my Boudist friend.
No sexuality judgment here. I simply can not believe that anybody would pay money and endure pain to have this put on their back for the rest of their lives. It's going to make it really difficult to get that life guard job down at the Boys and Girls Club. I am racking my brain to think of a worse tattoo. Hm... possibly a tattoo of George Bush skull-fucking my mom. Maybe. Damn, now I'm going to start have those merman rape nightmares again.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Hard Apology to Swallow
This is courtesy of Giggles. It cheered me up on an otherwise cruddy day.
Message From: pers-107081114@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-10-27, 3:27PM CDT-----Original Message-----
Subject: ugh
Brad, It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now, I feel like the worst person ever. First, let me start by saying that I am truly truly sorry, and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I would ever want to wrong in any way. There is no excuse at all for anything that happened, so I won't even try other than to say all of us had WAY too much to drink, and I did a stupid thing. I can handle you being pissed at me, I absolutely deserve it, I can even handle the ugly words that were exchanged between us, what I can't handle is thinking that you see me as a different person. It is weird, I feel like I just went through a horrible break up or something. The world looked funny yesterday, I couldn't crack a smile if you paid me, there are songs I can't listen to, and I just ! feel beyond crushed. I don't know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am hoping that you didn't. I know that I was wrong on many levels, but I am also hoping that this is something that we can deal with. I know it sounds totally crazy and stupid, but you have come to play such a significant role in my life, I can't imagine my days without you. It is totally strange and weird to say that, and you could say that my behavior didn't reflect that, and you would be correct. I hate feeling like you hate me, and I hate feeling like all of your friends think I am a terrible person, because I am not. I know there is nothing I can say or do to take back what happened, but I just want you to know that fighting with you was just about the worst thing I could have ever imagined. It was right up there with one of the ugliest nights of my life, and I would give anything in the world to rewind and fix it. I am not sure if you will respond to this, part of me thinks that you won't. If not today, then maybe some other time. Also, thanks for getting my stuff together, although I think my sunglasses are still at your house, if you could keep your eyes peeled for them that would be great. I can't even focus or work today, I can't eat, I seriously feel like it was an ugly break up, and I am hoping against hopes that it was not that and you are not done with me. Please don't cut me off, I really don't think I can handle that. I am so sorry.
Elizabeth
The Reply: -----Original Message----- Sent:
Monday, October 24, 2005 12:02 PM
Subject: Re: Ugh....enjoy.
Dear Elizabeth, Thank you for your concern. I'll be sure to file it away under "L" for "Long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn't care less about". You did a stupid thing huh? No...doing long division and forgetting to carry the one is "a stupid thing"; Mixing in a red sock with a load of whites is "a stupid thing"; Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45 minutes while I sit at the bar wondering if you're taking so long because you ate too much bran that morning isn't as much a "Stupid thing" as it is grounds for permanent removal from my social calendar. To be honest, I'm not sure if it was more amusing that you went and degraded yourself in a public toilet not once but twice in a 2 hour span, or that you seemed to think that by saying "Well, I didn't Fuck him" somehow gave you a clean slate. So forgive me if I couldn't care less if the world "looked funny" to you yesterday. Since your world revolves around blow dryers, golden retrievers, Prada Bags and Jelly Beans, I'm sure it must have been most unsettling to actually have to consider someone else's feelings for 24 hours straight. The good news for you is that my friends don't think you're a terrible person, they just think you're the average run of the mill cum-guzzling blond who commands about as much respect as your average child porn collector. I could be wrong but, it's pretty hard to respect some B&T chick who comes out to spend the night at my place even though she's seeing someone else in New jersey and winds up tongue-bathing the taint of anyone who decides 30 minutes of droning commentary on Colin Farrell's new haircut is worth putting up with for a hand job in the men's room. The good thing about being a guy is that when I eventually bump into the young lad who finger-blasted you on top of a towel dispenser last saturday, we'll have a shot and laugh our heads off about the time it happened. By the way, for the amount of time you claim to spend in spin class you really must be doing something wrong to sport the thunder thighs you do. Watching you parade around my bedroom in a thong was a little like watching sea lions mate. Thought you might like to know.
PS. I BCC'd about 100 people on this email.
Talk to you never, Brad
At least nothing harsh was said and no feelings were hurt. I see a bright future for Brad and Elizabitch.
Message From: pers-107081114@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-10-27, 3:27PM CDT-----Original Message-----
Subject: ugh
Brad, It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now, I feel like the worst person ever. First, let me start by saying that I am truly truly sorry, and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I would ever want to wrong in any way. There is no excuse at all for anything that happened, so I won't even try other than to say all of us had WAY too much to drink, and I did a stupid thing. I can handle you being pissed at me, I absolutely deserve it, I can even handle the ugly words that were exchanged between us, what I can't handle is thinking that you see me as a different person. It is weird, I feel like I just went through a horrible break up or something. The world looked funny yesterday, I couldn't crack a smile if you paid me, there are songs I can't listen to, and I just ! feel beyond crushed. I don't know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am hoping that you didn't. I know that I was wrong on many levels, but I am also hoping that this is something that we can deal with. I know it sounds totally crazy and stupid, but you have come to play such a significant role in my life, I can't imagine my days without you. It is totally strange and weird to say that, and you could say that my behavior didn't reflect that, and you would be correct. I hate feeling like you hate me, and I hate feeling like all of your friends think I am a terrible person, because I am not. I know there is nothing I can say or do to take back what happened, but I just want you to know that fighting with you was just about the worst thing I could have ever imagined. It was right up there with one of the ugliest nights of my life, and I would give anything in the world to rewind and fix it. I am not sure if you will respond to this, part of me thinks that you won't. If not today, then maybe some other time. Also, thanks for getting my stuff together, although I think my sunglasses are still at your house, if you could keep your eyes peeled for them that would be great. I can't even focus or work today, I can't eat, I seriously feel like it was an ugly break up, and I am hoping against hopes that it was not that and you are not done with me. Please don't cut me off, I really don't think I can handle that. I am so sorry.
Elizabeth
The Reply: -----Original Message----- Sent:
Monday, October 24, 2005 12:02 PM
Subject: Re: Ugh....enjoy.
Dear Elizabeth, Thank you for your concern. I'll be sure to file it away under "L" for "Long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn't care less about". You did a stupid thing huh? No...doing long division and forgetting to carry the one is "a stupid thing"; Mixing in a red sock with a load of whites is "a stupid thing"; Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45 minutes while I sit at the bar wondering if you're taking so long because you ate too much bran that morning isn't as much a "Stupid thing" as it is grounds for permanent removal from my social calendar. To be honest, I'm not sure if it was more amusing that you went and degraded yourself in a public toilet not once but twice in a 2 hour span, or that you seemed to think that by saying "Well, I didn't Fuck him" somehow gave you a clean slate. So forgive me if I couldn't care less if the world "looked funny" to you yesterday. Since your world revolves around blow dryers, golden retrievers, Prada Bags and Jelly Beans, I'm sure it must have been most unsettling to actually have to consider someone else's feelings for 24 hours straight. The good news for you is that my friends don't think you're a terrible person, they just think you're the average run of the mill cum-guzzling blond who commands about as much respect as your average child porn collector. I could be wrong but, it's pretty hard to respect some B&T chick who comes out to spend the night at my place even though she's seeing someone else in New jersey and winds up tongue-bathing the taint of anyone who decides 30 minutes of droning commentary on Colin Farrell's new haircut is worth putting up with for a hand job in the men's room. The good thing about being a guy is that when I eventually bump into the young lad who finger-blasted you on top of a towel dispenser last saturday, we'll have a shot and laugh our heads off about the time it happened. By the way, for the amount of time you claim to spend in spin class you really must be doing something wrong to sport the thunder thighs you do. Watching you parade around my bedroom in a thong was a little like watching sea lions mate. Thought you might like to know.
PS. I BCC'd about 100 people on this email.
Talk to you never, Brad
At least nothing harsh was said and no feelings were hurt. I see a bright future for Brad and Elizabitch.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Secret Agent Dog
His codename is 8ball.
He moves with pitter-patter stealth, virtually invisible at night.
He uses his puppy dog eyes as a deadly weapon.
In my previous post I told you about a Randsom note that I received.
I have mused about my puzzling situation and have come to only one logical conclusion. Clearly the villians want this dog. I assume that perhaps his previous master was eliminated by enemy agents but he was clever enough to feed the micro chip with the vital and secret information to this little dog. How the dog knew to find me I don't know. Perhaps it was just luck. All I know, is that now, after I foolishly sent out an email with the dog's picture (to get him adopted) the enemy agents know I have the pooch and they need him back. It would also explain why our secret agent dog sets off metal detectors. At great personal expense I had the dog fitted with the red explosive collar. I truly hope I am not forced to detonate the collar. But the little dog knew the risks when he signed on to be a secret agent. Currently both the dog and I are expertly disguised with large blonde mustaches and aviator glasses so nobody will be able to recognize us.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
This time EVIL runs in a pack.
Fluffy put it best when she wrote 'Puppies for sale... Oh, the humanity!'
Sweet Lucifer's Flaming Banjo! What horror hath man unleashed?
If I wanted a porcelain paperweight of a dachshund puppy dressed as a prostitute I'd.... well, if I did, I hope some friend would have the decency to kill me. It should be a quick yet brutal murder to help serve as an example for others. It took a second glance to see that these things are supposed to be actual living pets, not refrigerator magnets.
I especially love that they show the puppies in natural poses, such as standing atop a leather bound book and wearing a referee outfit. Why didn't they have one with a puppy snorkeling or perhaps two puppies ballroom dancing? They could name them Fred and Ginger and the charming duo could dance their way into their new owner's heart right after making a quick stop to tap dance all the money out of her "World's Greatest Grandma" embroidered purse.
Does it cost extra to have them glazed so they will never get dirty or smudged?
I'm going to ask if mine can come wearing a sailor suit with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
And We All Float On...
Yeah, that score looks about right. I'll retake the Life Quiz in a Month and see how I'm doing.
I wonder if they make Ecstacy in a long-lasting, continuous IV drip form.
Go ahead, rate your life. If it's lower than mine I will buy you a drink.
And we can make a toast. "To alcohol! The cause of, and solution to all of life's problems."*
* That was either Socrates or Homer Simpson.
I wonder if they make Ecstacy in a long-lasting, continuous IV drip form.
| This Is My Life, Rated | |
| Life: |  5.2 |
| Mind: | 5.4 |
| Body: |  7.1 |
| Spirit: | 5 |
| Friends/Family: |  4.6 |
| Love: |  1.4 |
| Finance: |  3.5 |
| Take the Rate My Life Quiz | |
Go ahead, rate your life. If it's lower than mine I will buy you a drink.
And we can make a toast. "To alcohol! The cause of, and solution to all of life's problems."*
* That was either Socrates or Homer Simpson.
Monday, November 07, 2005
2-4-6-8 - Bathroom time is really great!
Women alaways go off to the bathroom together, so what's the big deal?
They were just trying to keep morale up. I believe that's their job.
As both a sports fan, and a supporter of womens rights, I find the actions against these women to be excessive and positively un-European.
Cheerleaders promoting sex. What is this world coming to?
They were just trying to keep morale up. I believe that's their job.
As both a sports fan, and a supporter of womens rights, I find the actions against these women to be excessive and positively un-European.
Cheerleaders promoting sex. What is this world coming to?
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Triple-Tagged
I have been Tagged. Not once, but thrice. Bevis, Surlyboy and now Gun street girl. It's like a loving pinch of attention. I'm getting more action than a short-skirted tourist in Italy.
My new adoptive Australian big sister was kind enough to put my name on the tag.
Well I'm not sure what you're expecting to get from an emotionally wounded Krankiboy but here you are.
I have been Tagged. This means I must share 20 things about myself and then tag five other people. I'm a team player.
1) The other day while talking to a friend on my cell phone I panicked that I had misplaced my cell phone and told my friend to "hold on a sec I think I lost my cell phone. I have had a lot a lot of shit on my mind but that's still pretty brain dead under any circumstances.
2) I was the kid who was told not to trip because my shoelaces were untied and ignored the advice and then tripped on my laces and broke my nose on a flight of marble steps.
3) I have written a kids book about animals that may actually get published.
4) I went on my very first date at age 9 and my second date at age 17.
5) In elementary school I was known as the bully-killer due to my ability to fight with hyper-active ferocity.
6) Despite my "quirks" I am a very nurturing person who loves animals, kids and plants.
7) I have no patience to learn how to play an instrument but I truly wish that I could learn to play guitar.
8) Nearly every woman I have broken up with has almost immediately put on 15-20 lbs. Be warned you strumpets.
9) I can't swim. Will you please teach me?
10) My parents were never married which makes me a genuine "bastard"
11) I get cravings for healthy food like some people crave junk food.
12) I think that 20 things are too many things to list and that people will surely grow bored of reading somewhere in the teens unless there is something sexy or disturbing made up and thrown in to hold their interest.
13) I used to have a drug dealer who I got stuff from but then he died. We think it was probably from taking too many drugs.
14) I know the man who holds the record for being the World's Fastest Backwards Talker. It's really freaking impressive! Ti rof drow ym ekat retteb srekcuf- rehtom.
15) The investigators on the case never found enough of the body to prove it was me that killed that pregnant Hooker in Nashville. She totally started it.
16) My favorite TV shows when I was a kid were the A-Team, The Dukes of Hazzard, The Incredible Hulk, Threes Company, Monty Python, The Fall Guy, and The Smurfs.
17) I have a nasty fear of heights and if you intentionally try to scare me with a fake push or if you get to close to the edge. I will become nervous, punch you in the arm, and it will hurt.
18) I dearly love my grandmother but I once spit on her because she did not let me put the coins into the automatic toll booth basket. 27 was a tough age for me.
19) My greatest goal in life is to be an exceptional father and raise happy kids.
20) Lastly, I think I may have died at sea in a past life.
So I reluctantly tag Sherriff, because anybody who posts a picture of their cock on their blog probably doesn't mind sharing personal info. I tag Anna A Spades, because when she turns 18 she and I are going to get married so I can get Australian citizenship. Shhhhhssh. Oh and also we're very, very, very, much in love. Quirkie gets my tag because she usually has something pithy to say. Tuppence, because of that amazing night we spent in Buenos Aries. I still have the burn from the candle wax. And I tag Magical_M. You're all it! No tag backs.
Friday, November 04, 2005
A Kranki Oasis
She's real damn it!
The Krankiboy KhroniclesRecent Visitors by Location
Detail
Country
Location
#81
Saudi Arabia Riyadh, Ar Riyad
Can I just say I think it's cool that somebody in Saudia Arabia is a regular reader of my blog. I hope it's a wealthy princess who has been taugh 625 secret sensual methods to make a man climax. Hell, I'm not demanding. I'd even settle for an heiress who knew just 408 ways. Actually just some lovely lady who could buy me dinner and then order me to massage her silken igloo would be fine. But it's probably not a Saudi princess. It's more likely to be some brawny, eunic guard with a sharp and massive scimitar. Kinda like the dude from that Bugs Bunny cartoon. Remember the one where Bugs and Daffy get lost on the way to Pismo Beach and find the Sultan's Treasure? Good times. Bugs, Daffy and I had some good times.
I am off to Australia at the end of November and I am as excited as I am poor. However I have always relied on the kindness of talented and sexy bloggers. Thanks sexy bloggers. This orphan is thankful that you will be giving me a roof. I'd have settled for just a rufie to kill the pain, but you have to keep the fans happy*. God damn world tours.
This hemisphere can kiss my grits.
*intentional pomposity for reverse self-depricating effect.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
God Bless this Mess
Sorry to be the glass-is-half-empty guy but it's really starting to look like the Apocalypse is fast approaching. Judgment Day may soon be upon us.
Now I should mention that under normal circumstances I am in no way a religious man. Here are some of my reasons:
I don’t believe in God or Allah or Buddha or Jesus, or Mortimer the stuffed Hedgehog of Supreme Divinity.
I don’t like the idea of any temple or church that grew rich on the backs of its poor followers by scaring them into obedience. It’s Afterlife Peer Pressure. “Do you want your flesh to forever burn in Hell or do you want to fly around the clouds with wings and a cool gold harp?
I am not big on following rules written thousands of years ago to make my life incredibly inconvenient. There are enough fucking rules in life already. I do however enjoy getting the occasional Jewish Holiday off. Thank you Jews.
Religion and religious conflicts are responsible for more wars and death and conflicts than anything on earth with the possible exception of disease. “What?! They have Different Ideas?! That’s evil, kill them all!”
I much prefer how Science uses observable facts to draw conclusions instead of an old fable about Adam, Eve, a snake, and an apple.
Last Weekend the Baby Jesus and I went out drinking and he got completely wasted and drunkenly admitted to me that IT was all a big scam. He then apologized, quickly paid the bill and took off with that skanky waitress.
Anytime I have put my faith in someone or something important I’ve been disappointed.
I don’t think that talking to a pedophile in a dark, little, booth should somehow wash away your sins.
Okay, now despite all these reasons I still look around at the world right now and I can’t believe what is going on. Is the End of the World approaching? Pardon the pun but Armageddon very concerned with what’s happening.
In just the past few years there has been a giant tsunami that took out well over a quarter of a million people. Terrorist attacks have occurred all over the globe. There’s been a sharp rise in the number of suicide bomber jobs. Rampant genocide continues in many parts of Africa. A record number of massive hurricanes have battered the United States. An imbecile is the Commander in Chief of the free world. The United States has started a pointless and endless war with another country and the world at large hates us for it. And most recently Earthquakes have claimed thousands of lives.
As for me personally… I’ve seen both of my promising career paths sputter into stagnant pools of dried drool and my once very happy marriage recently crumbled to dust faster than you can say selfish cunt.
People wake up! The Earth is mad at us. Mother Nature is PMS-ing and she’s riding that rag hard. If there is a God Our Father entity then he clearly has the attitude of a bratty child holding a magnifying glass over a cluster of helpless ants.
My best advice is to grab hold of the nearest religion you can find and start humping its leg like there’s no tomorrow. If that doesn’t pan out for you then please save me a good seat next to either the fiery brimstone or the pit of eternal damnation.
Now I should mention that under normal circumstances I am in no way a religious man. Here are some of my reasons:
I don’t believe in God or Allah or Buddha or Jesus, or Mortimer the stuffed Hedgehog of Supreme Divinity.
I don’t like the idea of any temple or church that grew rich on the backs of its poor followers by scaring them into obedience. It’s Afterlife Peer Pressure. “Do you want your flesh to forever burn in Hell or do you want to fly around the clouds with wings and a cool gold harp?
I am not big on following rules written thousands of years ago to make my life incredibly inconvenient. There are enough fucking rules in life already. I do however enjoy getting the occasional Jewish Holiday off. Thank you Jews.
Religion and religious conflicts are responsible for more wars and death and conflicts than anything on earth with the possible exception of disease. “What?! They have Different Ideas?! That’s evil, kill them all!”
I much prefer how Science uses observable facts to draw conclusions instead of an old fable about Adam, Eve, a snake, and an apple.
Last Weekend the Baby Jesus and I went out drinking and he got completely wasted and drunkenly admitted to me that IT was all a big scam. He then apologized, quickly paid the bill and took off with that skanky waitress.
Anytime I have put my faith in someone or something important I’ve been disappointed.
I don’t think that talking to a pedophile in a dark, little, booth should somehow wash away your sins.
Okay, now despite all these reasons I still look around at the world right now and I can’t believe what is going on. Is the End of the World approaching? Pardon the pun but Armageddon very concerned with what’s happening.
In just the past few years there has been a giant tsunami that took out well over a quarter of a million people. Terrorist attacks have occurred all over the globe. There’s been a sharp rise in the number of suicide bomber jobs. Rampant genocide continues in many parts of Africa. A record number of massive hurricanes have battered the United States. An imbecile is the Commander in Chief of the free world. The United States has started a pointless and endless war with another country and the world at large hates us for it. And most recently Earthquakes have claimed thousands of lives.
As for me personally… I’ve seen both of my promising career paths sputter into stagnant pools of dried drool and my once very happy marriage recently crumbled to dust faster than you can say selfish cunt.
People wake up! The Earth is mad at us. Mother Nature is PMS-ing and she’s riding that rag hard. If there is a God Our Father entity then he clearly has the attitude of a bratty child holding a magnifying glass over a cluster of helpless ants.
My best advice is to grab hold of the nearest religion you can find and start humping its leg like there’s no tomorrow. If that doesn’t pan out for you then please save me a good seat next to either the fiery brimstone or the pit of eternal damnation.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Whatever you do... DON'T name it.
It's starting to look less likely that I got the teaching job that I wanted very badly. I even put on my fancy suit and put product in my hair and spoke articulately and passionately and thoughtfully and I limited myself to one swear word per sentence. Perhaps I'll start a new life. Ideally it would be in a galaxy far, far away. It's all just too much to think about.
With Penny hitting me in the back of the head with a shovel it's been hard to get my mind clear enough to make any decisions.
What do I do with this little black Chihuahua pup that my dogs found hiding behind the recycle bins? He's here and he's offering me 6lbs and 2 ounces of unconditional love but 3 dogs without a yard for them to romp in is difficult and my dogs get a bit jealous and depressed if they don't get enough attention. It's easy to juggle two balls but three takes some effort. I'm leaning towards giving him away but right now I need all the friends I can find. I really want to give him away if it's a friend or somebody where I can visit him. He's a cool little dude, good personality, likes to cuddle. I think I made the crucial mistake of naming him. You'd think I would've learned my lesson about forming attachments but I still went ahead and named him 8-ball.
I know exactly just how he feels.
He's adjusting fairly well considering the recent traumatic experience of being abandoned by the people he loves and becoming lost in a big strange world.
Fortunately little 8-ball is adapting to his new situation even better than I am.
With Penny hitting me in the back of the head with a shovel it's been hard to get my mind clear enough to make any decisions.
What do I do with this little black Chihuahua pup that my dogs found hiding behind the recycle bins? He's here and he's offering me 6lbs and 2 ounces of unconditional love but 3 dogs without a yard for them to romp in is difficult and my dogs get a bit jealous and depressed if they don't get enough attention. It's easy to juggle two balls but three takes some effort. I'm leaning towards giving him away but right now I need all the friends I can find. I really want to give him away if it's a friend or somebody where I can visit him. He's a cool little dude, good personality, likes to cuddle. I think I made the crucial mistake of naming him. You'd think I would've learned my lesson about forming attachments but I still went ahead and named him 8-ball.
I know exactly just how he feels.
He's adjusting fairly well considering the recent traumatic experience of being abandoned by the people he loves and becoming lost in a big strange world.
Fortunately little 8-ball is adapting to his new situation even better than I am.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Halloween in LA 2005
Halloween had always been my favorite holiday. It's pagan, you dress up, you drink too much, you get to ride in a cab, people let their guard down, you get to see cool costumes... And best of all even the reserved young women will dress up in "naughty" costumes. Naughty Nurses, Ninjas, Cheerleaders, Devils, Angels, Construction Workers, Bankers, French Maids, Firewomen... This year I even saw a woman dressed up as Naughty Avian Bird Flu. At first she claimed she was just Avian Bird Flu, but I explained that Avian Bird flew doesn't have cleavage and black short shorts. And it seems to be getting more scandalous each year. On Halloween people here just flat out want attention and exposed flesh is a quick way to get it.
I was going to blog about how I met Penny on Halloween five years ago and I could go into more detail but who really wants to hear me get all nostalgic for happier times? I certainly don't. I think I'll look forward to happier times.
So I don't know what to do with myself tonight. I already went out and did the party hopping costume thing on Saturday night. Plus my head is clogged up with "nostalgia."
I remember now. You know those people who come in costume and get a bit too caught up playing the character or person they are dressed as? Those people need to relax. It's cool for somebody dressed as Jesus to introduce themselves in character but after a few minutes pass it's not cool to start shouting about how you are going to turn the hot tub water into wine.
I was going to blog about how I met Penny on Halloween five years ago and I could go into more detail but who really wants to hear me get all nostalgic for happier times? I certainly don't. I think I'll look forward to happier times.
So I don't know what to do with myself tonight. I already went out and did the party hopping costume thing on Saturday night. Plus my head is clogged up with "nostalgia."
I remember now. You know those people who come in costume and get a bit too caught up playing the character or person they are dressed as? Those people need to relax. It's cool for somebody dressed as Jesus to introduce themselves in character but after a few minutes pass it's not cool to start shouting about how you are going to turn the hot tub water into wine.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
When Life Hands You Lemons...
The last three weeks have been a complete mind fuck. My wife and I have separated which may or may not be a good thing. Neither of us really knows for sure.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "what happened?" Well, The Wizard seduced her away from me. I couldn't compete with that kind of Mo Jo. Can you really blame her? He's a spell-craftin' stud. The Wizard has it all going on. What has he got that I haven't got? Man, it is a long mother fucking list. Chicks really go for his shiny robes and the tales of mystical wonder. Plus I think he put something in her drink. But, fair or not, the better man has won and I graciously acknowledge defeat. My wife Penny is only human after all. Frankly, I think the Wizard can probably do better, but as long as they're happy together thats all that matters. I hope he treats her well and doesn't string her along and then dump her like he did to that Mermaid Princess.
You're probably wondering where my anger is? I should be furious with both of them, right? Trust shattered, marital bonds ripped apart... I just don't want dwell in that negative head space, you know?
Although it would be nice if The Wizard stopped calling and putting me on speakerphone whenever he and Penny are going at it.
That seems a bit excessive.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "what happened?" Well, The Wizard seduced her away from me. I couldn't compete with that kind of Mo Jo. Can you really blame her? He's a spell-craftin' stud. The Wizard has it all going on. What has he got that I haven't got? Man, it is a long mother fucking list. Chicks really go for his shiny robes and the tales of mystical wonder. Plus I think he put something in her drink. But, fair or not, the better man has won and I graciously acknowledge defeat. My wife Penny is only human after all. Frankly, I think the Wizard can probably do better, but as long as they're happy together thats all that matters. I hope he treats her well and doesn't string her along and then dump her like he did to that Mermaid Princess.
You're probably wondering where my anger is? I should be furious with both of them, right? Trust shattered, marital bonds ripped apart... I just don't want dwell in that negative head space, you know?
Although it would be nice if The Wizard stopped calling and putting me on speakerphone whenever he and Penny are going at it.
That seems a bit excessive.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Fun + Onions =
These are Funyuns.
They're a bit like onions except obviously their way more fun. Although you can probably play a game of catch with an actual onion.
We live on a strange planet.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Wizard in the House!
News of my death* by digestion has been greatly exaggerated. I'm totally fine. No way The Wizard would choose to eat me over a freshly heated box of frozen pizza bagels. He even let me have a few. He's a good guy. Some of you people have said some mean things. I want you to know The Wizard is a guest in my home. Granted, it's not been exactly what I hoped for... yet. But please, in the future, I hope that you can give him the respect that a Warlock of his stature deserves. I think he's earned it.
I'm still excited that The Wizard teleported into my life. He's there with wisdom and answers during this tough patch in my life. He offered me hope with a mere wave of his magic wand.**
True, The Wizard hasn't actually done any conjuring for me but I have to say it's just comforting to know that I have a powerful sorcerer and wizened scholar of the world right by my side. When is the last time a master of the dark arts appeared at your door when you needed an emotional boost in your life? Yeah, that's what I thought.
He told some fascinating (true) tales of otherworldly events and encounters that had my mind spinning with amazement. I think the second day of the Wiz's visit was basically fine except for the fact that he turned every conversation to matters of a carnal nature. I didn't know the answers to his questions. I didn't know where he could go to hook up with a "Latina honey-ho" that could "stiffen his "man-staff." I feared that I had not proven myself worthy of his enchanted intervention in my life. He started to swear and sweat even more than he normally did and he sent me out on a mini-quest to get him some "Hearty Dwarven Stout, or a Robust Mead" to calm aura."
When I came back from 7-Eleven with just a 12-pack of beer and a bottle of Absolut Vodka, he was not pleased. He starting getting verbally abusive and the skin under his chin became flushed. I apologized effusively and after some pouting and muttering The Wizard reluctantly tried the metal canister of "unworthy beverage." He seemed to like it and I was relieved.
After he had pounded down a few of the beers his voice got a bit slurry and he began hugging me a bit more than seemed necessary. He asked me if I wanted to see a taste of his magic. I got goosebumps in anticipation. The the Wizard quickly downed the rest of his beer made a quick magic gesture and extended index finger. His look of intensity made me think that perhaps a bolt of lightening might shoot out from his hand. He commanded me to tug upon his digit. Then he let out a wet fart. It wasn't what I was expecting but the volume it reached was definitely impressive. I think perhaps I am gaining The Wizard's trust. I need to go run out and get him some Oreo cookies and Funyons right now. Perhaps they're ingredients for a dazzling spell. I hope so! More later.
Oh and the Wizard just called to me from the bathtub. He says he's ready to answer any and all of your questions with his ancient and mystic wisdom.
** Sorry not "wand." I mean to say staff. The Wizard says "wand" makes him sound like "a friggin' gaylord pufter."
* News of my death has been widely reported all over the internet. And when I say "all over the internet" I mean three comments in my blog post.
I'm still excited that The Wizard teleported into my life. He's there with wisdom and answers during this tough patch in my life. He offered me hope with a mere wave of his magic wand.**
True, The Wizard hasn't actually done any conjuring for me but I have to say it's just comforting to know that I have a powerful sorcerer and wizened scholar of the world right by my side. When is the last time a master of the dark arts appeared at your door when you needed an emotional boost in your life? Yeah, that's what I thought.
He told some fascinating (true) tales of otherworldly events and encounters that had my mind spinning with amazement. I think the second day of the Wiz's visit was basically fine except for the fact that he turned every conversation to matters of a carnal nature. I didn't know the answers to his questions. I didn't know where he could go to hook up with a "Latina honey-ho" that could "stiffen his "man-staff." I feared that I had not proven myself worthy of his enchanted intervention in my life. He started to swear and sweat even more than he normally did and he sent me out on a mini-quest to get him some "Hearty Dwarven Stout, or a Robust Mead" to calm aura."
When I came back from 7-Eleven with just a 12-pack of beer and a bottle of Absolut Vodka, he was not pleased. He starting getting verbally abusive and the skin under his chin became flushed. I apologized effusively and after some pouting and muttering The Wizard reluctantly tried the metal canister of "unworthy beverage." He seemed to like it and I was relieved.
After he had pounded down a few of the beers his voice got a bit slurry and he began hugging me a bit more than seemed necessary. He asked me if I wanted to see a taste of his magic. I got goosebumps in anticipation. The the Wizard quickly downed the rest of his beer made a quick magic gesture and extended index finger. His look of intensity made me think that perhaps a bolt of lightening might shoot out from his hand. He commanded me to tug upon his digit. Then he let out a wet fart. It wasn't what I was expecting but the volume it reached was definitely impressive. I think perhaps I am gaining The Wizard's trust. I need to go run out and get him some Oreo cookies and Funyons right now. Perhaps they're ingredients for a dazzling spell. I hope so! More later.
Oh and the Wizard just called to me from the bathtub. He says he's ready to answer any and all of your questions with his ancient and mystic wisdom.
** Sorry not "wand." I mean to say staff. The Wizard says "wand" makes him sound like "a friggin' gaylord pufter."
* News of my death has been widely reported all over the internet. And when I say "all over the internet" I mean three comments in my blog post.
Monday, October 10, 2005
Let's Get Wizzy
The Wizard has just astounded me again by miraclously eating a quart of Ben and Jerry's Raw Cookie Dough ice cream and falling asleep on my couch. The man is gifted. Also the wizard has asked me several times "Where are all the fly Puerto Rican' honnies are at?" Does anybody know what he means??? I don't want him to get mad and do something to me. He's waking up! I g2g. la8!
kb
kb
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Behold! Tiz the Wizard!
Behold! For it tiz the Grand Master himself. The being know only as... "The Wizard!" He has come to make right all that is wrong in your meager and pathetic world.
Yes. Rejoice mortals! The wizard is here to solve your problems. From the very enormous to the quite small the Grand Master can fix them all.
So what troubles weigh you down? Is your problem that...
Your political approval rating is in the toilet? Show The Wizard how high the fecal waters of turmoil have risen.
Are you just just not able to meet...
skanky chicks that peel off their panties for anybody who'll buy them a drink?
Maybe you're having trouble with little lady?
Or...
Does it seem that everybody has more bling than you do?
Maybe you're looking to find a new hobby that stimulates you.
Are you being harassed by the gang at your local coffee shop?
Are you just trying way too hard to reveal your outer beauty?
Maybe you need a sexy date for the prom.
Do you just want to meet new and interesting friends?
Or maybe you're in trouble with the LAW.
Have you snagged your braces on your new friend's zipper?
Are people not taking you seriously?
Have The Forces of Darkness taken possession of your soul?
Maybe you don't know what to do with the girl you keep trapped in your bathroom.
Perhaps you're expecting a new baby?!
Or maybe the baby you already have just needs a new toupee?
Perhaps your upstairs neighbors are being too noisy?
Maybe you really need to get out of the house more.
Maybe you're feeling tired lethargic and....
*sigh*
Maybe you're embarrassed that the girls on the plane laughed when you exposed your penis.
Are you looking for just the right pet?
Are your coworkers not showing you enough respect?
Are you tired of night after night of meaningless threesomes?
Is your father's drinking becoming a problem?
Is that hit of acid you took taking you on a bad trip?
Have you been ensnared by narcotics?
Are you worried that your kid may want to try drugs?
Is there nobody who shares your passion to perform "Soul Man: the Musical!"?
Perhaps you're uncomfortable now that your nudist Uncle has moved in with you?
Or maybe you just feel robbed of your dignity.
Well friend... Have no fear. No matter what your problem may be, The Wizard is here to make it all better. Embrace his power. Tell him your troubles and let this humble blog be a portal to his powers.... A means of seeking his council and words of wisdom.
For if you believe in the Wizard, he will believe in you. With a wave of his mighty magic staff and a gaze through his mystically mystic Blue Blockers he can tell you the solution that will make all your problems melt away.
You'll feel safe, secure and contented once more.
Nestled snugly in the ample bosom of tranquility.
So, dear friend, don't fret or fear. Simply tell The Wizard what is it that troubles you.
Yes. Rejoice mortals! The wizard is here to solve your problems. From the very enormous to the quite small the Grand Master can fix them all.
So what troubles weigh you down? Is your problem that...
Your political approval rating is in the toilet? Show The Wizard how high the fecal waters of turmoil have risen.
Are you just just not able to meet...
skanky chicks that peel off their panties for anybody who'll buy them a drink?
Maybe you're having trouble with little lady?
Or...
Does it seem that everybody has more bling than you do?
Maybe you're looking to find a new hobby that stimulates you.
Are you being harassed by the gang at your local coffee shop?
Are you just trying way too hard to reveal your outer beauty?
Maybe you need a sexy date for the prom.
Do you just want to meet new and interesting friends?
Or maybe you're in trouble with the LAW.
Have you snagged your braces on your new friend's zipper?
Are people not taking you seriously?
Have The Forces of Darkness taken possession of your soul?
Maybe you don't know what to do with the girl you keep trapped in your bathroom.
Perhaps you're expecting a new baby?!
Or maybe the baby you already have just needs a new toupee?
Perhaps your upstairs neighbors are being too noisy?
Maybe you really need to get out of the house more.
Maybe you're feeling tired lethargic and....
*sigh*
Maybe you're embarrassed that the girls on the plane laughed when you exposed your penis.
Are you looking for just the right pet?
Are your coworkers not showing you enough respect?
Are you tired of night after night of meaningless threesomes?
Is your father's drinking becoming a problem?
Is that hit of acid you took taking you on a bad trip?
Have you been ensnared by narcotics?
Are you worried that your kid may want to try drugs?
Is there nobody who shares your passion to perform "Soul Man: the Musical!"?
Perhaps you're uncomfortable now that your nudist Uncle has moved in with you?
Or maybe you just feel robbed of your dignity.
Well friend... Have no fear. No matter what your problem may be, The Wizard is here to make it all better. Embrace his power. Tell him your troubles and let this humble blog be a portal to his powers.... A means of seeking his council and words of wisdom.
For if you believe in the Wizard, he will believe in you. With a wave of his mighty magic staff and a gaze through his mystically mystic Blue Blockers he can tell you the solution that will make all your problems melt away.
You'll feel safe, secure and contented once more.
Nestled snugly in the ample bosom of tranquility.
So, dear friend, don't fret or fear. Simply tell The Wizard what is it that troubles you.
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