My New Hero

So I was out at the skate park near my house on Sunday when my new hero rolled onto the scene. He was a diaper-clad little fellow with just two years of life under his belt.









He was there with his dad getting some skateboarding lessons.
His father would give him a good push to get him going and he was off.

It's pretty impressive considering I'd fall on a curve like that.

He's going to have some good innate balance. Maybe he's the next Tiger Woods of skateboarding.


Mostly he was just incredibly cute. The skateboard looked almost as large as a surfboard in his arms.

He and his dad, Jonathan, were at it for over an hour and he was totally into it the entire time. The best was watching him stand between his dad's legs so he could go for a full speed ride whipping up and around the curves.

I wish I'd had a dad growing up. Especially one that took me skateboarding. It was still a very life-affirming sight to see this young father taking such care and showing patience with his little boy.

Maybe I need to marry a black woman just so I can have a son with a cool fro.

Happy Last Days on Earth Day

As morbid as it sounds I've taken to thinking of Earth Day not as a day to care for and celebrate the Earth but as a day to remember that before there were so many careless, money-hungry, selfish, apathetic fucks a.k.a. "people" on the planet it was probably a very nice place to live.


Essentially the Earth has a huge problem. Humans. We get this amazing home and for tens of thousands of years we manage to coexist with nature and not pervert it. Then right around the time of the Industrial Revolution that all changed. We started burning loads of coal to smelt metals and sending C02 and other lovely chemicals into the air. Good old strip mining came around then, too. Get a big pressurized water cannon to blast a hole in the planet using it's own water. Genius. It's about as smart as giving yourself a golden shower.

People are crying over the economy right now and we're throwing trillions of dollars and trying to lap dance all over it to put on a convincing show as we furiously grind on the financial crisis like a stripper giving her first lap dance. The best that the much bigger crisis of the environment can get is a bit of tit sweat. It seems people are certain that even if we have no livable planet to exist on we'll need to have a healthy stock portfolio.

I'm not some guy who makes his own clothes but I do try and do my part not to be an asshole, lazy consumer too. I teach kids about how to care for the planet but it's not with the idea that we can save it. I'm just hoping they can buy themselves a bit of extra time. This fucker has been totaled. We done and crashed it real good. We did such a bang up job banging it up that I sincerely hope we don't find a nice new planet to colonize because I'm sure that humans will simply take a big toxic shit on Earth 2.

Today I took 20 little five and six-year-olds to pick up all the trash and cigarette butts (toxic trash that goes into the ocean) on two blocks near our school. We found 236 of them. We wore rubber gloves so the poisons and chemicals that they pack into those non-biodegradable crack sticks didn't get on our fingers. I could still smell the stench in my mind hours after we had cleaned out hands. They kept asking me "Why do people put cigarettes out on the ground if there are so many kinds of chemicals and poisons on them?" I told them that people didn't really think about how damagaging a small cigarette can be to the health of the Earth and the oceans.

As this Krankiboy sees it the biggest problem (even now) in the Yes, We Can Obama days is environmental apathy. Aside from a few hundred thousand green-minded people who really do care what kind of planet their kids and future generations will live on nobody else gives a wet fart about what happens when they're gone. If trees couldn't grow in their yard they'd just buy some pretty plastic ones and the problem would be solved. Green is the latest buzz word. So, okay douche bag auto-executive, go right ahead and make people think they are doing something to help slow the death of the planet by saying you make your tires from recycled poker chips if you want to. You're still selling a big piece of fossil fuel burning crap. The irony is that he'll probably use the bonus he gets from his brilliant advertising sales gimmick to take his fake-titted mistress on a fancy Vegas trip in his brand new, foreign, luxury car to fuck her brains out in the new Circus Circus penthouse suite. As a result of placing a pretty green band-aids on a bleeding chest cavity we'll all be dead and gone in 500 years but the cockroaches will be able to congregate under her fake implants for hundreds of generations.

Sadly, of the billions of dollars (that's chump change considering what is required) going into alternate energy development a good portion is going to something called "clean coal" technology. This is a joke technology. It's not magic coal. It's regular coal and they try to keep the horribly toxic gas byproducts from leaking out. But guess what they haven't mentioned. They can't get it to work. They can't even do it on a small scale but the coal lobby in the U.S. has sold us on the pipe dream that all this gas can be somehow contained. It's a huge roll of the dice when solar and wind power are proven to be clean. Even if NASA, the Keebler Elves, Harry Potter and the The Tooth Fairy all sat down and did find a means to do it, it would result in a kind of mining that reaps havoc on the Earth.

The environment needs a bit more than lip service. Imagine if you went to your doctor with a major illness and told him everything that is wrong with you and exactly how to fix it and he then nods, smiles, hands you a happy face sticker and pushes you out of his office.

Oh, and Happy Earth Day! Enjoy it while it's here and still green(ish).

Word of the Week

The Word of the Week is fuckstanance.

Definition: The minimimum amount of fucking required to sustain somebody.

Carla's friend told her that she was in danger of dying if she didn't get some fuckstanance soon.

Californication Connections

I've come to the conclusion that I have been too guarded in what I write and I need to get back to not giving a shit. Here goes.

So I was watching Californication the Showtime series with David Duchovny and was really enjoying it and aside from the fact that his character Hank Moody has a 12 year old (which I don't) and is a semi-famous novelist who smokes (I ain't) and is much better looking than I am (though I have a better nose) and hooks up with super, hot women constantly (I sometimes do if fate smiles on me) and he is having severe and ongoing writers block (mine is just becoming severe. Plus blogs don't count unless they make them into a book) he is almost living my life if I was still living in Los Angeles instead of San Francisco. So I really related to his character. He often talks about getting "pointless pussy." He also does things like punch dudes unconscious, which I have never done unless you count fourth grade when that big special ed (retarded kid with anger issues) grabbed me and I hit him with my elbow and knocked him down and bloodied his nose. I had some anger issues of my own when I was little. It all goes with not having a father anywhere in your life and being completely pissed off and not in touch with that rage. So sometimes it came out and was used for good and other times I'd go all Krankiboy baby Hulk and do some damage to a less deserving individual such as the kid I brained with a chair... okay two kids on two occasions, and the kid I hit with a rock, and that hooker I killed in Scranton a few weeks ago. Sometimes the wrong person just crosses your path in the wrong way at the wrong time and they pay the price. I don't think I would have lasted very long in the Old West. Either that or I'd have a legend. Kranki the chair swingingest, rock chuckingest, whore killer. Feared by the good working folk of Scranton. Nowadays I'm a pretty gentle, sweet-heart of a guy who nurtures plants, dogs and children on a regular basis. I like being a sweet guy but there are still times when it would be great to be able to pop a guy in the mouth for being a complete jackhole misogynist to a female friend. The unfortunate thing is that chivalry is also a good way to get shot or get the crap beaten out of you. I don't really know where I'm going with this ramble right now but I do know that I do have to catch a flight back to Scranton in less than an hour. I have to deal with a loose end of a pimp that happened to observe a bit more than he should have.

Oh right, I was supposed to stop giving a crap and get back to the inner Krankiness that catapulted me to blog mediocrity and massive fame*.



* On certain computers in Melbourne, even fewer in Sydney and for one cool dude in Africa.

Slack Hack

It's been hard to get back into being a writer again. I still have all the ideas but the desire to actually sit down and write seems to be somewhat lost. I think all the Face Booking and emailing I do with my friends and other strange acquaintances saps some of my time and energy that I once reserved for writing. I think collaboration will be my salvation. I always enjoyed being a part of a group that brainstormed up ideas together so it had an instantaneous quality to it and allowed me to get feedback and laugh. That's true but it's also a cop out because I used to blog regularly and that was all on my ownsome lonesome. Maybe it's the strange brain chemistry and how the items I ingest affect my brain chemistry. I wonder if there is a writers diet I could eat.

Trying to dig back into writing reminds me a bit of going back to the gym after slacking for months and losing your muscle tone. It's not the fun experience that releases endorphins that it once was. It's just work.