Might ain't right

I rang myself up the other day.


"Yeah, it's me. People have been talking about you" I said to myself.


"What people," I replied, 'What are they saying?"


"They're calling you a pussy man. They says you couldn't fight to defend the honour of a drunken sailor at a Hong Kong Opium Den."


"That's a strange thing for them to be saying," I said to myself.


"Yeah well, what you gonna do about it mon?"

At this point I wondered how I had all of a sudden developed a Jamaican accent, but I shrugged it off.


"I don't know, you're me, so...what do I suggest?"


"I think we should show them man, show them not to mess with the K-Man, you hear what I'm saying?"

I heard alright. But I wasn't sure I liked where this was going. I was confused. How did I get my phone number? Was I having an episode? Would fighting make me look a little like


this?

Or a whole lotta


this?

Why was I all of a sudden calling myself the K-Man?

The K-Man.

Speaking it out loud I suddenly felt a rush of blood to my head. That's when I realised I was actually hanging upside down. What a strange day this was. Righting myself I began to jump up and down on the spot shouting, "I'm the K-Man Fool, I AM THE K-MAN. YOU WANT SOME OF THIS? WELL? DO YA? OH, YOU WANT SOME TOO? YEAH, THERE'S A PIECE OF K-MAN FOR YOUR OLE MAN."

I was punching the air, which felt good because the air can't punch back. Unless you stick your head out of the window of a jet plane, in which case it can slam your face like a two tonne truck. But the air in my kitchen is generally peaceful and zen-like, so all it did was hang there whilst I used my Krank-fu on it's ass.

Fight hey?

I began to picture in my mind fights that I had witnessed previously.



Okay, that doesn't look too bad.



Oh Alexis, when will you learn Blake doesn't love you anymore!




You know what? I'm starting to like this whole fight bizness.


I was feeling pumped. It all added up.



The more I got into fights, the more my testosterone level would begin to resememble some sort of mathematical phallus and the more respect I would get from my LA Holmies which of course would in turn lead to more Dynasty-esque love making with nude mud wrestling lesbians.

I called myself back.


"Hello?"


"Yeah it's me"


"Oh hey, how are you?"


"Yeah, you know, can't complain..I mean no-one listens anyway right?"


"Yeah, I hear ya. Hey you don't know where I put my keys do you?"


"Try next to the bed."


"Oh yeah! Anyway look, about this fight business..."


"Yeah mon, holmies been dissin' yo all over town."


"Yeah well, tell them the K-Man is in town and he wants to talk."


"You sure man?"


"Just tell them okay?"


"Okay man, I will. Hey..."


"Yeah?"


"I love you man. I'm really sorry about that whole slash the wrist thing back in High School, I was feeling confused man, you know?"


"It's okay. I'm past it now. Just call me once in a while ok?"


"Ok"



I hung up.


I had to prepare myself, get fit, get training. Who could I call?



No. I was in no mood for maintenance work.



No. I was in no mood for kiddie fiddling.



No. I was in no mood for kiddie fiddling.

The K-Man was to go it alone.
The K-Man was tough.
The K-Man was fast as lightning.
The K-Man...The K-Man...The K-MAN!



I don't remember much about the next few hours. Just snippets.

I remember the warmth of the sun on my face as I stepped through the front door of my Compton Holiday House. I remember the laughter that greeted me as I approached a group of local Hoods asking to be taken to their leader. I remember being blindfolded and put in the back of their Van. I remember distinctly the smell of old leather and what could have been cheap aftershave or stale urine. I remember being led into a warehouse where I came face to face with the notorious Gang Leader.

After that, my mind is a blank.


*ring ring*



"Hello?"


"........."


"Hellooooo?"


"........"


"Look, who is this? I'm going to hang up soon."


".......It's me"


"Oh hey! Did you find the keys?"


"Yeah, right where you said. Geez I'm a real blockhead sometimes!"


"Hey, it happens to the best of us...hehehehe"


"Look man, about what happened at the warehouse..."


"What do you mean? You were there? I can't remember a goddamn thing!"


"You...what? Really?"


"Yeah man, my minds gone blank...What the hell were you doing there anyway? What the hell is going on?"


"........."


"Dude..."


"Oh hey man, there's someone at the door...I gotta go. I'll speak to you soon yeah? Great! And get the arm tended to, it might go gangrenous."


*click*


Confused, tired and sore and realising that I should take my own advice and see to my arm, I ran a hot bath. This whole testosterone thing was over rated, where were the lesbians? Had I even fought anyone? K-Man was sleepy. K-Man wanted nigh nighs.

*ring ring*


"Hello?"



"Yes. Miyagi here. Miyagi very impressed by Krank-Fu style. Miyagi want to learn."


"Oh hey Miyagi, listen I'm real tired ok? Maybe Saturday we can get together?"



"Oh. Saturday is acceptable to Miyagi. And Kranki-San?"


"Yes Miyagi?"



"Bring Paintbrush"



*click*



I fell asleep and dreamed of kittens.

Are You Stoned?

Are you stoned? If so Then click here, dude!

Oh, you're not stoned? Then click here my friend.

Kartoons are Kute

Cartoons by Ivan Brunetti

I love the contrast between the happyville world that it appears to be and the horrible reality of what the people are doing. Fine and dandy Americans doing horrible horrible things. These three are the ones that I thought were among the least disturbing. If you want to see some truly wrongity wrongness you have to go here, but I go on record to advise against it if you care about babies, have a strong sense of morality or think babies are nice. I'd love to see somebody replace a co-worker's lame Dilbert cartoons with these darling cartoons.

When Korean Girls Speak

On an less disturbing and unrelated note I had a little kindergarten girl in my class who was from Korea. She spoke very, very little English. We were watching a movie and she came over and sat down next to me. She leans in very close to my neck and she takes a big sniff and smiles at me. I ignore her so as not to encourage her strange behavior. She then sticks her nose right into my chest and takes a few sniffs. I turn and as her what she's doing? Do I have a strange smell? She shakes her head. Then she spoke her first sentence in English.

"No. You smell cute!"

Still the best compliment I've ever received. For the rest of the month the other teacher who was there with the class would look me over when I'd arrive at work and ask:

"Did you get a haircut Mr. Kranki? No? Are those new jeans? Well, it must be something 'cause you certainly smell cute."

It must be my adorable shampoo.

SUPERBOWL SUNDAY

It was raining around noon when saw the poster up at a coffee shop by my friend Dr. Chops' house. Now the poster wasn't clear on the details but it was just down the street and we had to investigate. Okay it wasn't that close, but c'mon, we had to go. It was a purely mycological decision. So already I feel my mind expanding with having learned a new word for the study of mushrooms. Here I was all this time saying "that dude is totally into 'Schrooming! - while I should have been saying. That fellow certainly enjoys the study of mycology.

I used my student ID to save a dollar off admission. SCORE! We stepped into a strange world. There were mushrooms of every shape and size imaginable and old people were wandering about. Plus take a look below. It's written clearly in Black and Pink. Children's Story Readings. But the spelled it wrong as Children is plural you don't put the apostrophe after the s. But I'm obsessing over tiny tiny details. Back to the Shroomfest... Ahem. Sorry I meant the Mycological Society Enthusiast Fair. It's wall to wall old folks inside. So Dr. Chops and I survey the scene looking for somebody who is more "Grateful Dead-looking and less "Grateful not to be dead yet." We find this youngish guy and he has samples of some very alien looking mushrooms. He has SAMPLES out for people to try. So we have a sample and then because we don't want to be rude we wait another... three seconds and have another "sample." I was still not feeling as if I had done a proper sample so I put a few more into my mouth and chew them up while the guy is talking about the unusual stem shaping. I ask him if these are the kind of samples that will make colors brighter. Wink wink. He doesn't know what I'm talking about. Or pretends not to. The Good Dr. is over at another stand talking to an old guy in a fishing hat and wearing a cloth gardening pouch thingie. I'm sure they'll be on the catwalks of Milan any day now. I eavesdrop on the conversation and have a few more samples, while I'm waiting.

Dr. Chops: "I understand that if you eat some kinds of mushrooms you can have like a trance or have visions."

Old Dude: " Well, I don't know, I've never eaten these here, but I understand that they have toxins in them that can cause altered vision or nausea. I don't go in for that myself."

I wander over to the "YEAST WING" do mushrooms have yeast, is that a pun on the West Wing TV show? Other than the gigantic piles of assorted mushrooms on display there isn't a whole lot to see at the WILD Mushroom Fair. There are no kids stories for another half an hour and nothing is happening. Old people and Fungus not the most fascinating subjects. So I think it's probably time to leave so I turn to look for my friend when I... start to feel... floaty. Nice and flooo-teee. I don't know where Chops has gone off to and more importantly I don't know where I'm going off to. The colors start to really pop and I'm just so happy to be inside with all these wonderful people. I feel something rubbing my shoulder and I turn around to find the Doctor there except he looks different, he looks more colorful and I notice all the cool patterns and color flecks in his eyes just amazing patterns. He's talking to me and I realize he's been talking to me for a while but I don't understand a word that he's saying and he's looking at me. I finally make out what he's saying because he slows his speech down for me. "How many did you have?" I don't know what he's talking about. Have? Have what? Oh, the mushroom samples, I had like eight, why? And then I have to go because the patterns on the wall behind him look like they're breathing and I can see what look like modern hieroglyphics moving on the wall and I sit down to really really look at them. I start to glide away from the wall and I realize that I've walked out into the rain, but it's really comforting and cool on my skin. There is a big tree that has this bulbous knot on it and I go off to see if there are any tree people by the tree. These are the little people who you can only see when you're tripping hard and communing with nature. That's the only time they'll let people see them. They're sort of like elf ghost squirrels. I touch the tree and it's so alive feeling and it's happy that I'm touching it and that makes me happy too. So there I am in the rain making a tree happy. But there aren't any tree people around, but wait the bark has a pattern and oh wait, look it's an earth worm on the ground and he's in a puddle and he's going to drown if I don't save him and he's a good worm because he's helps make holes in the soil which is good for my friend the tree so I have got to help this little pink guy out. I pick him up and he gives me a nod of appreciation as worms sometimes will do to express gratitude. I put him down on some grass that isn't sopping and I sit with him and watch as he slowly slowly makes his way back into the earth. He's got an entire ocean of dirt that he can swim through but it's an ocean on land and that's pretty amazing if you think about it. I don't know if I'll get all of this out before I need to sleep. Yeah, I need to sleep. I have to be in bed now. So to cut an already long story short. Sundays are nice and bed bed-night.





As my partner in curiosity Dr. Chops commented. "The smell of wet dirt is palpable." I didn't have a camera and I will now be sure to travel with a photo taking device in my car at all times. Mushrooms as big as a fucking toddler.

60 Kids, 2 Dogs and 1 Drug -- A Happy Friday

Randomness on Friday at midnight. Penny is passed out on the couch with two dogs and a blanket while I am sitting here looking through something called Project Wet. No, that's the strange part, it's not porn or about sex. It's a science activity book about water. I went back to visit the kindergarteners this afternoon and they cheered me like I was a conquering Caesar. Then I got my pups out of the car and snuck Freckle Dick and Ass Breath through the fence to play with the kids. I did the trick where Ass Breath leaps from the ground up to my shoulders and I catch him in mid air! They were unimpressed. But man-alive, when Freckle Dick sat down on command, that was truly something to behold and there was much applause from the tiny-handed ones. It was a glorious warm and sunny day and yet I was feeling stressed. Valium can be a very good thing when taken responsibly.* * with red wine on an empty stomach while driving






I highly recommend having 60 friends who are all 5 and six years old. It does wonders for the ego. They're all invited to my next birthday party. I wonder if they give kids a discount on lap dances? I even got a an early Spiderman Valentine Card.



Then I got my pups, out of my car and sneakily snuck Freckle Dick and Ass Breath through the fence to play with the kids. And there was much rejoicing.

I did the trick where Ass Breath leaps from the ground up to my shoulders and I catch him in mid air! They were strangely unimpressed. Oh, but man-alive, when Freckle Dick sat down on command, that was truly something to behold and there was much applause from the tiny-handed ones.



"I like to sit. I sitted down."







"Ahem! Hello? Did I not just fearlessly jump five feet into the air? I even folded my ear back in the process. I think these small-sized humans must be stupid. No, no, Please. Go right ahead and clap for my brother the astonishing sitting dog!"

It was a warm and glorious day. The sun was shining, mirth was in the air and Spiderman (via card) had just expressed a sincere interest in spending some Quality Spideytime with me. But still, I was feeling strangely racked with anxiety. I think it's always important to stop and thoroughly explore one's feelings and I was feeling... like taking some drugs. Valium can be a very good thing. But only when taken responsibly.* Okay, kids now, go home and tell mommy and daddy what you learned today.



* with red wine on an empty stomach while driving

Everything Fits

I thought I'd make a little picture book that shares some of me with all of you. So you know that you have truly arrived and become a big time blogger when somebody (who you have never met) names either a sandwich or a mode of transportation after you. Today I am the proud nick-namesake of the Ms. Fit's KRANKIVAN. As in "Hey, let's pull into this alleyway so we can whip out our overheating sexmachines and fuck our drunken brains out in the back of the KRANKIVAN.
"Who the hell are you?!"
"Just shut up and get in the van!


Sure a van named after you isn't as glamorous as having your very own line of Politically themed clothing. Nor is it as impressive as being able to finger a turntable so deftly that you're capable of laying down a beat that will seductively stir a crowd into a writhing, dancing, hot, sweaty lather of bump n' grind goodness.



"How did you two meet?" Good question. Well, Fits and I were brought together like two wayward fireflies drawn to the warm glowing beacon of debaucherous, self-hating introspection that is This Guy's Blog.


Isn't it tasteful of his friend to tuck his shaft in. What a gentleman. Otherwise that would be crass. FYI Greg's blog has been quite good lately.

Yes, Ms. Fits and I found each other while posting our cleverly cleverful comments on his blog. Perhaps if you wanted to you could look up that magical exchange and melding of the minds. Then things between us quickly got mucho hot and muy heavy. Our frenzied blogaffair had us staying up to all hours of the night exchanging two, sometimes three emails a day. Scandalous. We typed voraciously. (me with both hands) Then I woke up one morning to discover that I'd become her platonic penpal and life partner. Chicks always push for a committed relationship. It was a frenzy. We explored every nook and cranky of each others bloggies until we were both utterly cyber spent. I'll admit I was partly in it for huge potential for Aussie girl on girl action anecdotes.



It was hard keeping up with the wild woman once she was loose from her marriage corral. But I held on tight, bit my lip and prayed for dear life.



I was bucked about. I was helpless to resist her as she pumped out megawatts of her...

Unleashing it on me like torrential downpour. It was around about that time that she showed up in my subconscious. I had a strange dream in which Fits and I were Interpol spies who had infiltrated a Nazi Zepplin. In the dream Fits was looking not unlike this...


Complete with tall sexy boots and a garterbelt holster. I just had a brown jumpsuit on. What kind of fucking spy was I?! She's all spandextasticly decked out and I'm wearing a brown jumpsuit? Then the dream got really weird when Jess from ausculture showed up on her jetpack and rocket boots to provide us with back up. I realized it was only a dream when neither of superspylettes got naked and made out. Just lots of FemiNazi ass whooping. Stupid violence taking the focus away from sex. I'd like to take violence and bash it right in the face. Grrr.

Back in the conscious world now. That's about the time (it was actually later on but go with me) that a certain Excellent Spelling Penis* came bursting (pun intended) into the picture. Yes, folks, there was a new Sherriff in town and there was much Sheriffy Fitsnakedness. Were I not happily married and eight jillion miles away this Johnny come lately (pun once again intended) fellow would not have been welcome. But damn him if he didn't charm me. Then they were gallivanting about and it seemed as if every time I checked in with them some hot chick or chicks had flown into Melbourne to join them and...

In a SPA. That was because they were constantly having Spa Sex Parties. Australians are so uptight. I'm not keen for all that sexual madness and trying to keep tabs on who's sucking who's dick and whose nipple ring is pressing into the back of my neck tom foolery. All I'm looking forward to is a good seat where I can sit back, relax and watch some...


While I sit in a comfy chair and do this....


My real pocket monkey is far bigger than that. In fact you can ask Gabi who gave me the nickname "Longpants" (and a beautiful blue-eyed baby girl**) The nickname is now simply "Long". You see Fits told me that her friend was going to be in L.A. shaking her groove wagon and party muffins all about for all the boys and girls. Clearly Gabi and I should meet up. The L.A. part of their tour got cancelled so I drove eight hours to with my friend G all the way to Tucson to see the Town Bikes. And after an evening of heavy drinking and yee-hawing and etcera-ing, my vision was precisely like this.

Matching Hotwheels dresses! Who shall be the first one introduced to the semen snake?


I have a vague memory of going to a my first Rollerderby and seeing this kid...


Cheering on the Iron Curtain in the Tucson Roller Derby Finals.

And I tried to be witty and quirky with the Town Bikes so they'd report back to mothership Fits and say I was charming and sweet as a...


Awwww.

Then I got back to my palacial office here in beautiful and stlylin' Los Angeles California...



After a short nap I decided to ascend to the top of Mt. Olympus where I found...


Zeus. The God of Thunder! (and also of waffles-- who knew?) And I asked Zeus why had I been chosen as this girl's penpal and platonic life partner. And he spoke to me in a thunderous voice and bellowed-- Okay, that part isn't true.

And both Fits and I (just her) got terribly busy doing things like creating a TV show. Yet still all I kept hearing about was how scads of this...

...was happening on the other side of the earth. Big toes were boldly going places where no toes had gone before. Nadstown!


But I told myself that my country in this dark hour of Republicanevil...

My country needed me to do my part and help push Bush out of the Oval office. And... I didn't check back to see how that election turned out, but I'm sure President Kerry is doing a great job.

Saddened that the Religiofanatics had snuffed out my candle with their Conservatism, I dearly hoped that I would see my platonic life partner before too many years had gone by and she was reduced to...




And while the Melbourne lifestyle...


Is sure to float anyone's duck...


I am looking forward to seeing my dear Fits visit me here in Los Angeles where we will frolic and do our best no to get written up in the...


But if that happens I have a secret card up my sleeve...



Plus Fits has become so huge after her multiple Aussie Blog Wins. That when she stomps into California the people will all cry out...



And all the hot bikini-clad babes will be drooling to get there soft nubile hands on the recipe for secret sauce stored deep within the denim pants of the...



Yes, so I must wait and daydream until sweet summer whilst the Fits girl and Sherriff boy continue to...


With all of their sex-crazed love slaves.

Meanwhile, I'll be right here, trying my very best to avoid being...



So, dear friends, until the Fits and the Sherriff come galloping into town, toss a rope around me or stuff $$$s in my Longpants pockets so they can kidnap me and whisk me away with them to a land down under, I shall continue to be eternally yours and forever...


xoxo
krankiboy

* Inside joke, for which you'll forgive me.
** not true... not yet.

News Flash: Hell is Only 28% Evil!

This just in Hell is only 28% Evil. What in the name of ornery horse shite is that about?

How can Hell a.k.a http://www.normallysober.blogspot.com be
28% evil, 72% good.

Are you kidding me? The Blog called Hell with all the naughtydoing and debauchery isn't even 30% evil?

This site is 39% Evil

Ms. Fits' blog is 45 % Evil.

Oh and www.cnn.com is right on her tail at 44% Evil

It's a sad day when Evil just isn't what it used to be. Good luck finding something more than 50% evil. Other than the voting in last "Presidential" Election.

GEMATRICULATRO