New York Juice

I'm finishing up a trip to New York City and I have to say that the city is an inspiring place. Seeing all the people out and about on the streets creates an energy that you can feel. It charges me up with ideas and gets my gears moving. I've been in a non-writing, non blogging funk for quite a while now and I hope that the visit will give me a creative burst.

For me the most astounding thing about being in Manhattan is the fact that they have everything here. Almsot anything you could possibly good or service that you can think of that exists is available. Any type of cuisine is at most a short subway or cab ride away. The sheer number of options for how to spend your time is probably what makes New Yorkers run about like headless chickens. Stylish headless chickens. New York may be the only city where on the same block you can get a gourmet a French roast cup of Kenyan coffee, a sumptuous Italian meal, and a happy-ending Swedish massage from a Vietnamese woman who speaks Spanish. Mei-Ling is a talented woman.

I need to get cracking on some more writing so I can reclaim my status as a struggling writer instead of just being somebody struggling to write.

More About T-Shirts

Last week I wrote about the difficulty of wearing certain kinds of T-shirts with words on them such as this one.
But the idea of wearing a picture of somebody else wearing that shirt opens up an entire new set of possibilities. It changes it from being a statement shirt to a commentary on somebody else's statement.

I don't think I would personally wear a shirt that said "GIANT CUM" but I would probably be up for wearing the shirt above. I don't know that the words on the shirt have any relation to the picture.

Right now I'd like a shirt with a picture of Dubya that says "It's not too late to kill me and my puppet master for shoving that giant piece of rusty metal into your ass." Maybe something a bit more catchy.

Fickle are Friendships

Holy Cow, I got some comments. I must say I was delighted to find that there are brave men and women out there willing to forgo doing something constructive to not only read my blog but to take the time to comment. You are all beautiful people in my eyes. I should also say that I am running a high fever and am on two different kinds of cold medicine so it will be interesting to see what my fuzzy and borderline delirious mind decides to tell my fingers to do.

I think I want to write about friendship because I've had a great many over the years and very few have lasted. I wonder sometimes if perhaps I become tedious to people after a while. I think I can be charming when people first meet me but perhaps the novelty wears off in time. Maybe I'm not a happy enough person so people don't want to put up with my dark episodes. I'm not rich, or successful and I can only rarely score you free tickets to see a cool band. I try to be a good listener and give helpful advice.

Maybe friends are just like shoes where you try on different kinds and different styles to see what fits you and some go out of style or just get worn down from years of use.

It would be so much better if the good friends we had were always there to be good friends and ports in the storm. But the reality is that many times we choose our friends based on what they can do to help us and we give just enough to keep getting what we want from them.

To me friends are especially important because I don't have any brothers or sisters or a very large family so it's hard for me when good friendships come to a bitter ending or as is more often the case just drift away. Sometimes it's because somebody moves or gets absorbed into a Borg-like relationship but other times I can't even tell how or when it happened.

Since I moved to a new city just over a year ago I've worked very hard to try and carve out some friendships and it's been work at times. I've also been trying to reconnect with some old friends through email but even in the few cases where there has been an inital response that is tremendously positive the emails just stop coming.

Some people are too busy to have friends that aren't going to move them up the social ladder or help their career. That's unfortunate because for me having true friends is what makes it all worthwhile.

FBI

So I'm sitting at my local cafe having a turkey, avocado, bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich on a lovely baguette with a fresh lemonade to drink just thinking that maybe, maybe, things are okay in the world. Just at that moment, as if to pimp slap that notion from my head, this Hispanic guy walks into the place wearing his brand new shirt. This shirt.

He had no ironic sense about him. On many people it could have a 'so crap it's brilliant' style to it. Slap it on a geeky keyboardist or a... hmmm... put it on a hip lesbian construction worker and... no... wait. Okay, okay, I have it. Put it on a happily married accountant and... damn, the shirt just sucks no matter who wears it. It was especially horrible on this guy who wore it because it...

a) is original and clever

b) makes him feel better advertising his heterosexuality in San Francisco to avoid any gay men with a thing for aspiring, pseudo-gang banger douche bags who would be all over his action.

c) complimented his ample neck bling.

d) flat out impresses the ladies.

e) ALL OF THE ABOVE

I can't even think of a celebrity that the shirt would seem cool on. That's how shit the thing is. Have any other horrible T-shirts you'd like to share?

The correct answer is e) ALL OF THE ABOVE

Feel The Juice: A Cabventure

I was riding in a cab with my friend Seth and we were talking about the idea of get rich quick schemes and how most get rich schemes actually prey upon people who are looking to get rick quickly themselves. That's when my friend told me he was going another route and was now making peace with poverty. He elaborated for me and it started to make a great deal of sense. Instead of killing yourself or (god forbid) working hard to attain material comforts, possessions, a large and fancy home and the opportunity to dine on fine food in exotic locations you simply go the other way and accept that you don't have very much, don't have to work very hard and decide to be okay with it. It's kind of Zen in a way. Eschuing the material wants and extraneous tidbits that we are forever chasing for the simplicity of the bare minimum.

Seth and I were into a pretty deep conversation so I was quite startled when the cab driver-- loudly exclaimed. "Poverty is the devil!" Then he began a manic monologue that I can only attempt to recreate. I wish we had him on audio or video. He jumped all over the place but some of the things I remember him ranting about were money and sex. "You got to have a good car and money in your pocket to take your nice lady out for dinner -- but I would never have sex with a condom because I GOTTA FEEEEL DA JUICE!... ya know?"

We goaded him hoping he'd share more of his blue collar brilliance with us.
"So, you seem to be saying that you don't like having intercourse while wearing a condom."

CABBIE: "Yeah, man. Dat's for shit. A condom on your cock is for shit shit! Dat's like sucking on a candy with the wrapper still on. When you're in the poosie YOU GOTTA FEEEEL DA JUICE! Mmmhh."

I think he then began espousing on the secret to happiness having something to do with being able to afford a nice car, a cute girl and someplace good to go for dinner. Then he quickly switched topics. I got the sense that he just wanted to talk so Seth and I just let him go.

I had this one girl in my cab and she says to take her to the Saint Francis Hotel and can I come get her in one hour, right?! So you know she's selling her trim trim. I mean I drove her to a few places and she was telling me how much she charges these guys like thousands of bucks right because some of these rich guys they will pay whatever for good trim. For her it's like popping a champagne cork but instead of a big gooey load coming out it's money for her. She's sucking up the money. She got a mouth full of money.

We got out of the cab and I told Seth that Taxi Cab Confessions had it all wrong. The real show would be putting a camera on the cab driver and just letting them rant.

I'd like to think that there was a deep philosophy behind the notion of "feeling da juice." A philosophy that embraces the world as it truly is, and the importance of not shielding oneself with a protective or insulating layer. How it is crucial to truly and fully experience all that life has to offer. That's really giving our cabbie too much credit. He just has very strong feelings about how he likes his "poosie."

Sometimes people I meet ask me why I left LA and "the biz" It's always been hard to articulate but this video resonated with me.

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&VideoID=1577240

Tatyana

A few days ago this email showed up in my mailbox. Sometimes I receive mail from blog readers and readers of http://www.thescene.com.au/ where I write some semi-purile ramblings and a Celery and Cube cartoon with the help of my good friend and collaborator Joe Shiggybuns. This wasn't one of those.

Greetings... It is written to you Tatyana by me have written to you onyour structure on site Yahoo. I ask the application that I have notwritten to you yesterday but I waited from you the letter yesterdayvery for a long time both you have not written also I already thoughtthat you do not write to me and I left from the Internet of cafe infact write to you from the Internet of cafe. And in the Internet ofcafe of service of the Internet cost dearly and I did not begin towait too much. And I would write to you a little about me that youknew I live in Russia in city Cheboksari it is not so big city to benear to river Volga. And I work as the operator on cooking a broth ona farm on cultivation of pigs. And it is very difficult at us in Russia to find work by a trade. And by a trade I the cook. And on mywork pay very few money but to month would suffice what to live andsupport. And I have decided to try the happiness on the Internet bothI have written to you and I so is strongly glad that you have writtento me. And as I send you my image of me. And if I have interested youthat write to me I with the big impatience tomorrow I would shall cometo the Internet of cafe what to read yours the letter of you. And onit I finish the letter with the best regards your new familiar ofRussia Tatyana.







Okay so Tatyana tries "the happiness on the internet." Maybe Krankiboy means something different in Russian. Most likely she just wants to get the hell out of her situation of cooking some kind of pig broth. Who can blame her?

Here is my response:

Hello Tatyana: I am not sure why you have chosen to write to me and send me your pictures. I am sure you are a very nice person, but I am not interested in a relationship.

I wish you good luck in your search.

Krankiboy

Today I received this. I think something may have been lost in the translation.



Greetings my new friend . And I am very glad that you have answeredme again. And I know that between us with you a difference in timeapproximately 8-10 hours and at you probably now even night. And Ihope that all of you understand that I write to you in fact mine theletter I I write to you earlier at school studied the English languageand I so is strongly glad that I studied it in fact now I can wellcommunicate with you. And as if you again will write me that we withyou we can talk tomorrow in this it is high time. And it is a littleabout me to me 29 years and my birthday in August of 13 numbers. I inRussia live together with my grandmother in fact at me anybody was notpresent from my native my parents were lost when I was absolutelysmall in accident. And as I was the only child in family I have nobrothers sisters. And since the smallest years of me my grandmotherbrought up and I am very strong to it for it is grateful. I have notenough friends but I am glad that at me the new friend has appearedand I think you my new friend. At me very difficult and heavy work. Ibefore have been never married also I have no children. We with mygrandmother live in an apartment together and we still have cat hisname is Murka. And you as write all about you and ask to me anyquestions of you to me it will be very pleasant to answer all yourquestions. Also write more about you and your life. And on it I finishthe letter I wish you to lead this week-end perfectly. Your new friendTatyana.

One Russian pig farm year must be equal to three normal years. Is she lying about her age or is it just a hard life that has aged her more quickly?

That's actually rather stylish wallpaper and some awesome looking hardwood flooring. Maybe I should have her fly me out and I can get a job chasing the pigs into the stew.

I'm at a loss. Can you help me out? Is so very lonely that I should correspond with her from time to time OR would that be somehow misleading to her and mean. OR should I just tell her to send me some skanky topless photos and promise to fly her out to be my bride. I'm kidding about the last part so don't any of you pervs ask. You know who you are.

Your thoughts?

And if I should write her please, please give me some ideas of what you'd like me to ask her.

Notable Quote

Notable Quote

"Sixty-eight percent of Republicans don't believe in evolution.
On the other hand, only 5 percent of monkeys believe in Republicans."

-- Stephen Colbert on The Colbert Report

Found on Craig's List

I didn't invent this. It's from Craig's List. As a friend remarked "Is this what dating in Los Angeles has been reduced to?"

My baby mama's beautiful nurse - m4w - 32

Reply to: pers-498176543@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-12-04, 1:18AM PST

My baby mama was giving birth and you walked in as her nurse and I couldn't believe my eyes! You had such a sexy little Southern accent and were very outgoing. I couldn't help but be so turned on by your black beauty. I secretly wished it was you on the bed giving birth to my baby. I ended things with my girl and I'll be waiting for you on the morning of December 5th. I truly believe you are my soulmate and I am not going to let you get away. I think I love you, Mandingo


I think it's going to get a really positive response for Mandingo. What the fuck kind of name or even pseudonym is "MANDINGO?!"

Even IF this sexy southern black beauty were interested in starting an affair with a wandering baby maker who only sticks around long enough to check on his handiwork I think once she reads that he goes by the name Mandigo she'd decide to pass on the enticing offer.

I'm not into you.

Many people find it difficult to tell somebody that they are no longer interested in seeing them. Personally I'm ashamed to admit that I've broken up with women in some cowardly ways. Please note that some of these I did when I was just a stupid teenager. Also, two methods in this list are blatant lies.

1) While over at her house I casually told her mother that we had decided just to be friends.

2) Went away to Europe for two months but failed to mention anything about the trip to her.

3) Break up note slipped under her door followed by me running away.

4) Made up a story about falling in love with a completely made up person.

5) The college classic: Stop being friendly when you see them and promptly start sleeping with their roommate.

6) Had my new girlfriend explain that I didn't want to see her anymore.

7) Told her I was saving myself for marriage and being around her was just too tempting.

8) Used inside information she told me to help her ex-boyfriend say the right things and "win" her back from me.

9) Changed Facebook information from 'In a relationship' to 'single.' Changed status to read 'Krankiboy is no longer dating Natasha.'

10) Wrote a message on her bathroom mirror with her lipstick then snuck out of her place during the night.

Care to comment on a crappy break-up method you have used or had used on you?

My Ride

So my car died... afuckingain.

This time I had my friend jump it which Alex had never done before. When Alex saw me hook up the batteries and it started up I believe the comment was "Aww, it's like our cars are kissing." This is a clear indication that Alex is a girl. Guys don't say that shit. That's why I don't like very many guys.

Instead of stressing out about driving it around to charge up the battery I simply left the keys in the ignition and walked off to have a leisurely dinner. This is a very freeing thing. The idea that my car was just there and running for anybody to take was quite cool. I was half hoping that somebody would steal it so I could get the insurance money and no longer have to endure parking tickets. I'm very close to selling the poor old gal and getting a scooter. Don't judge me, I live in the worst parking city on the face of the planet. Does the planet have a face or has it been covered in polar ice cap water. When the waters rise worldwide don't blame me, I'll have an aqua scooter and a pair of water wings.

What was the point of this blog again? Oh right, it's me, I'm pointless. Some say it's my charm. And my "some" I mean me.

Rejected Halloween Costumes

I ended up passing on some Halloween Costumes. I didn't think I'd have a party to go to, then I got invited to one and I have no time to get a costume. All I have are art supplies at school. I'll either find something simple and creative or have to go with nothing. Lame.

Here are some costumes you won't see me in.

Yellow doesn't go with my skin tone.

Sure this one would be hawt, but I'd bee too cold.

I don't have the person to do the body paint.

This one is just too disturbing.

In fact, it makes me want to....

Blluuurggh!

Happy Halloween y'all.

Do you know the Mushroom Man?

Some days I marvel at how fucking weird San Francisco can be. I was walking home from work on Thursday and saw this guy dressed like a cross between a Ziggy Stardust, and the Cat in the Hat. He had a long floral print shirt and some elven looking boots on. Weirder still was that he was carry a rectangular velvet pillow with two kinds of mushrooms placed in neat rows. One type of mushroom was orange with a large cap and the others were a purplish color. It seemed as if he might be on his way to sell them somewhere. I should have stopped to chat with the man but I was a bit too perplexed to think to do so.

I'll keep my eyes peeled for him next time. It totally topped the lady at the park who walks around selling ganja cakes like they were ice cream.

I hope you're all having a lovely weekend.

Funny Blood - Follow Up

This was in my email today. It made me smile and I thought I'd share as a follow up since some of you expressed some interest.


Kranki

hi.

thanks for writing to me.

your e-mail was very interesting.

i was in la when i received it.

i was on the phone with my mom (lillian) and i told her about it. then she put her mom / my yia
yia (dina) on the phone.

we spoke about it for a while.

the next time i talked to my mom she said that yia yia talked about it for the rest of the day.

i don't know that much about my family tree.

it's nice to know more.

tell everyone i said hi.

hope life is good.

demetri.

Free Wisdom

I'll give you some hard-earned wisdom at no charge.

Never ever try to outdrink a stuffed animal.

Funny Blood

My Aunt Helen sent me the following.

Hey KRANKI Martin -

Hope all is well. Let me know how its going. Just wanted to pass on this info, since this guy's been in the news lately:

I think I told you that Demetri Martin (the comedian) is your blood relative (but not through the Martin line - strange coincidence that you have the same last name). Your great-grandmothers were sisters. Your grandmothers are 1st cousins.

He's been on Jon Stewart, written for Conan, will have a new Comedy Central show in 2008. He's about your age. His grandmother Dina and uncle Johnny were at Aunt Mary's funeral and I sat with them at the luncheon. The uncle have me his dvd and cd (not the latest), which I can send you if you want. Demetri often uses his mother & grandmother in his comedy, talking about Yiayia, growing up Greek, has his grandmother respond to his jokes, etc.

Anyway, you said your Australian friends know of him. His humor is a bit like yours - cerebral and observational. Below are some links. Don't know if you would want to reach out to him, since you have so much in common. (I even think he was briefly married in his early 30's and is now divorced.) His website/myspace invites people to e-mail. Just a thought. To me, its almost surreal, parallel-universe-type stuff, so I just had to pass this info on.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=14653866 - recent NPR radio interview

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=7120270 - NPR radio interview

http://television.aol.com/news/story/_a/jon-stewart-backs-demitri-martin-show/20071003065809990001

http://www.comedycentral.com/shows/the_daily_show/videos/demetri_martin/index.jhtml - video spots on Jon Stewart

http://www.demetrimartin.com/main.html - his website

{BTW, here is how you are related:
Demetri's great-grandmother (Evangelitsa (Sissas)) & Matthew's great-grandmother (Anastasia (Sissas) Bendo-Poulos) were sisters.
Demetri's grandmother (Dina Agrapides) & Matthew's grandmother (Effie (Bendo) Yovanopoulos) are first cousins.
Demetri's mother (Lillian (Agrapides) Martin), married Dean Martin (Greek Orthodox priest, now deceased). Lillian and Effie are 2nd cousins.
And besides the above blood connection, Demetri & KRANKI are also connected via the Finale family through different marriage lines! It's a very small, very close, world.)

Keep in touch,
Helen

I'm not sure how I would go about communicating with somebody I am a fan of. It has a rather sycophantic, star-fucker quality to it that rubs me the wrong way. Would I even want to meet him if he were just my cousin who had some boring office job? Probably not. But if he was a funny cousin with a boring office job I think I would.

Does contacting him make me a star fucker? Did I mention I don't like star fuckers and hangers on? That's probably why I didn't ride some body's coattails to fortune back when I worked in Hollywood.

Please take a moment to weigh in with your opinion.

Say NO way to crochet!

Brother give up the needle. It's no way to live righteous!




Proof that crocheting is an addiction.

Just say NO to crochet!

Please do your part as a concerned citizen to help spread the word. Show your friends the dark side of crochet before it's too late.

I knew it!

We knew that Cheney dined on the roasted hearts of babies to feed his evil powers and sustain his ancient body. Now it seems Dubya is trying to get in on the act.

Puddle Deep

I have come to the realization that I'm in a love hate relationship with Love itself. If you're high as a kite that should sound kind of deep.

Also, if you are high, you'll enjoy this one.


What kind of bees produce milk?
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Boobies

Lame Tunes and Band Names

This is the saddest offering of new music from iTunes since... well, let's hope next week is better.

iTunes Store
New Music Tuesday: Jennifer Lopez, R. Kelly, Brooks & Dunn, and more

One hopes that "and more" really kicks some ass.

Nadine was here and we came up with some band names including...

Not a Panda
&
Save the Scones!

They both hypothetically rock so hard you just got a nosebleed simply reading this sentence.

*offers you a tissue*

The best actual band name I've seen in a while has got to be Bi Polar Bear. They're local to me so I'm going to check them out and hope they can unhypothetically make blood trickle from my nostril.

My Contribution to Culture

I've finally made my mark and can now go take a nap and rest on my wordly laurels.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=sezbian

Naps are for cats

I have a student who pretends to be a dog at nap time. It would be disturbing if it wasn't so adorable.

Tasty Beverage

It's called Chelada. I think it must be Spanish for supreme evil.

This is WRONG. It's not a matter of opinion. When you take the juice from a clam, mix it with tomato juice and add that vile combo to beer it's gone beyond bad taste.

Why not just bottle camel piss and milk? You could tell people that it's a delicacy.

Reflective Retreat

I was out at a staff retreat in the middle of nowhere east of San Francisco called San Damiano. It was a place run by Friars dressed in the traditional hooded brown robe and rope belt. After staff activities and games were done for the night I tried to get some sleep but just tossed and turned. Finally at 4am I got dressed and went for a walk outside.

I looked up at the stars. They were especially bright and visible out away from the smothering glare of the city lights. I looked into the South of the sky and was stunned to see Mars popping out like a red neon apple. It was as big as a new moon and lit so brightly that I could make out it's contours and texture. There were red, yellow and grey splotches in some spots. I could even see a hit of the giant canyon that runs three miles deep and stretches as long as all of North America etched onto it's surface. It was rather astounding.

Back on earth a few feet away I caught sight of some kind of movement nearby. There to keep me company was a smallish raccoon. He was perched in the courtyard fountain doing some late-night fishing. He would stare intently at the still water of the fountain and then quickly shoot both his nimble rodent hands/paws into the water trying to grab at the goldfish swimming below the surface. Plunk. I didn't want to disturb him so I just looked back up at Mars and wondered if my friends on the other side of the Earth in Australia would be able to see the red planet hung out so beautifully there in the cool of night.

A second raccoon came out to join his friend but was startled when he saw me. He sounded a warbly little snuffle to his fishing friend. They exchanged a few raccoon communications that seemed to be about me.

Nervous Raccoon: "Dude, there's a human right there, dude!"
Fishing Raccoon: "Yeah, he's cool. He's just been looking up at that big reddish ball in the sky."
Nervous Raccoon: "Whoa, hey, is that Jupiter?"
Fishing Raccoon: "No dumb ass, it's Mars. Now shut up, you're scaring away the fish."

I'm not really a late night walk-taker so I like to think that something was pulling me out to see Mars orbiting so close to the Earth. It won't be that close for another 220+ years. I'm glad I got to see it and make some new friends.

B-B-B-BANNED!

They threw my sorry little ass off Facebook. I think it's because I drew a weenie on my mate Dave's graffiti wall. It's art, man. Art can be impactful. Art can be a gross-looking penis. Plus, um... He total started it. *mock pout* Dave like totally started it.

Perhaps it's for the best, I was spending far too much time poking, karate-chopping, and throwing sheep at Australians. I was neglecting this already neglected blog. Time to go back to neglecting this baby full time.

Best of the Week

What's the best thing that happened to you this week? My thing was having the bartender lady at my local bar recognize me and give me a nickname. Second place was being mildly assaulted by hungry goats at the petting zoo.

Art by Fluffy

Fluffy has mad skillz. I can barely use my mouse to make a stick figure and she busts this out. I can only assume that it represents the red mist that all women are consumed by when they think of me. We don't have the term red mist here in Seppoland. It's yet another cultural tidbit I learned on my Aussie excursion.

How ya going?

How ya going?

Hello?

Hello?

The Ugliest Dog in the World!

I was at the park romping with Ass Breath and Freckle Dick yesterday and a friendly blond-haired gal walked over to say hello. She had her dog on a leash. It was one of those scary-looking things that people actually pay money for. The breed is called Chinese Crested. Why anybody would want to actually go out of their way to breed this dog into existence is beyond me. Let's give it a head of hair but only wisps of hair on it's body. It's like a big, spotted water rat had sex with Yoda and this was the baby born as a result.

I was actually repulsed by the site of this dog with a white pompadour on it's head and wisps of hair on it's liver-spotted back. It was being friendly so I bravely gave it a pet on the back. This was a mistake. It's texture was not of this world. I can only describe it as being similar to petting the wrinkly ass of an old lizard man. I think I actually looked at my hand to make sure none of it had rubbed off on me. I tried to smile at it's cute owner but I think she could tell that I was a tad nauseated and walked off. I needed a beer to steady my nerves after the encounter.

They just look like aliens, or gremlins who have been in some kind of freak accident involving acid or an explosion. Even the "cute ones" look like this.

Little Alien Freak

The one at the park reminded me of Ziggy Stardust because of his white mullet. Sometimes the white hair makes them look like a zombie the corpse of Andy Warhol.

Kids As Entertainment

I'm starting work on Monday. It's a Summer teaching job. There are lots of fiend trips planned so it should be a fun experience.

In that spirit, I thought I'd post some humorous kid pics from the vast Khronicles archive.




Yes, he does taste just like bacon. Sadly, the pig is thinking the same thing. If he was midly hungry that hog would eat the kid bones and all.

I like it. It would be fun to have 20 kids all with hand prints on their head. Perhaps I have the theme for my class summer photo.

She must have told a very funny German Shephard joke. Damn, those are some big teeth. It makes me think of Little Red Riding Hood. Perhaps they're rehearsing a scene from it.

If you have any funny kids with animals pictures please send them my way. krankiboy@yahoo.com

Chipper

When I was 6 years old I had an imaginary friend named Chipper. One day Chipper decided it would be fun to draw on the walls of the upstairs hallway. My aunt asked me why I'd drawn on the walls and I explained that it was all Chipper's idea. I was apparently so insistent about it being Chipper's doing that she didn't want to burst my imagination so I didn't get in trouble.

I wish Chipper was still around but unfortunately he's serving time in prison on a man-slaughter charge. You think you know an imaginary friend, and then they go and do something like that.

An Open Letter to the person who broke into my car

Dear Person who broke into my car,

First off let me apologize to you because there wasn't much of value in my car. I feel bad that you had to go through all the effort of smashing my window only to discover that I have nothing but boxes of old books in my trunk. I hope you didn't cut your hand on the glass or hurt your back lifting the boxes of books while searching for something valuable underneath them. They shouldn't have even been in there. I just hadn't bothered to remove them since I moved. You probably saw the boxes and got all excited that there might be something of value inside. Sorry for that, too. I know how disappointed I got on my 9th birthday when I opened what I hoped was a Star Wars action figure and found a pair of dress socks instead. As for the bike rack and the the large pair of butterfly wings that you didn't want. Don't feel bad. What was I thinking even having those there in the first place?

Sorry there was only a tape deck and no CDs. I know that cassettes are outdated and R.E.M and the Police aren't exactly the most cutting edge bands out there. As for the fact that my coin bin only had pennies in it I can only justify that by saying I had every intention of putting more dimes and quarters in there. You were probably all like "Pennies?! WTF?!" That had to be an annoying discovery for you. Please know that I'm just as embarrassed as you were inconvenienced.

If the contents had been more organized you would have had an easier time sorting through them. I take full responsibility for the clutter. As an added benefit you've made sure that nobody else can break that window anymore. It is now truly smash proof. LMAO ;)

Overall, I want to thank you for taking the time and effort to personally evaluate my car's contents. I hope this lackluster experience hasn't soured you on the whole "breaking into cars and stealing stuff" experience. Please give me another chance to stock the car with a better selection of goods. I look forward to working together in the near future.

Warm Regards,

Krankiboy, 1990 Honda Accord (with shattered rear window) Owner


p.s.

I do think you should have taken Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. It's a great read and is just as relevant and compelling today as when it was written.

Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind

Look, darlin' readers, I'm not going to lie to you. I'm an extremely popular guy. I just happen to have retained my sense of humility and humble dignity through it all. It's not some empty boast either. Just today alone all these people asked to become friends with me. It's 100% true. I seem to have an appeal that draws in all types including, but not limited to....

Artsy B&W College Girls





Sporty Beach Babes
Quirky Red Heads



































Aging Sorority Girls
Girls with Breast Implants
Famous Actresses

Trashy Blond Narcissist Bimbos


Aspiring Actresses
Asian Orgy Enthusiasts

















Latina Gangsta Girls (if I had a nickle for every time I've tapped onna doze)


































Emo Girls whose parents can be such total "mega-jerks"












British Men

Asian Department Store Models











Now I'm not stupid or naive. I know why these people really want me to become my friends. I'm well aware that they're all trying to get close to me in hopes of gaining my intimate trust and having sexual relations with me. Except the British dude. He probably just wants to invite me to hang out with him in London so that he can get some of my cast-off girlie action. Smart chap.

I understand that being desired is the price of epic blog fame and I don't past judgement on these women and British dude for yearning to be near me in order to feel better about themselves. Look, if I could safely have sex with all these needy women (some exceptions apply) to improve their self-esteem I would gladly do so. But would that really be doing them a favor? Where would they go from there? The rest of their life would be a feeble and futile attempt to match that one moment of grandiose Krankiboy Klimax. To give just a glimpse and then shut the door would be cruel. I'll continue to deny them and keep them at a distance. Hopefully they can channel their raw, lustful urges for me into something that will benefit mankind. Sometimes you just have to be cruel to be kind.

Dogs Love Their Balls

It's a fact. Dogs love their balls.

This is an Article from the Sydney Morning Herald

Real, or fake? Never mind the busty woman walking her dog in the park - it may be her pooch who's sporting implants.

Some pet owners who neuter their male dogs are opting for a surgical procedure meant to make Fido feel like he's back in the good old days BC - Before Castration.

Neuticles - testicular implants for dogs that look and feel like the real thing - are said to boost a pet's self-esteem by replacing what was lost.It's a procedure that's becoming increasingly popular in New York.

"We did it so Truman could still walk proudly down the street,'' says Penny Glazier, a Manhattan restaurateur, of her 8-year-old bullmastiff.

"We felt it would be good for him psychologically.''

Neuticles are made from polypropylene $US119 ($A144 a pair), solid silicone ($A300) or a liquid-filled ``ultra-plus'' model with lifelike veins $US889 ($A1,000).
They range in size from petite to XX-large.

"It is mostly men who inquire about it,'' says Dr Gina Antiaris of Miller-Clark Animal Centre in Mamaroneck, New York.

"It's really a cosmetic thing,'' says Dr Richard Green, who has performed the operation several times. "Dogs do just fine without their testicles.''

Neuticles were introduced in 1995 by Missouri inventor Glenn A Miller.

Though it took several years for veterinarians to accept the product, Miller claims more than 230,000 pets in 49 countries have been "Neuticled'' at 17,000 clinics worldwide.

The procedure is performed mostly on dogs, but owners have had it done for cats, bulls, horses, monkeys - even an elephant.

For a full 20 seconds I stopped to wonder if my boy dogs feel like something is missing. They're dogs and while I love them compared to (most) people I think they're relatively stupid and don't notice that their balls are missing. The idea of fake balls for dogs is patentely absurd. They're looking to begin with. I was at the park the other day and I saw this Bulldog running and I can say with great conviction that seeing his doggy nut sack bouncing around wasn't some doggy version of Bay Watch. It was just gross. A daschund went to play with the big balled dog and got pounced on. The poor lil weiner dogs was nearly tea bagged by a nad-sack as big as his head. New Yorkers must have developed a new strain of functional retardation to shell out money for such a operation. I'd like $1,100 to shell out to replace dog balls that I paid to have removed in the first place. Neuticles? Why not Castraticles? Or simply Fake Dog Balls. I think I see the Four Horsemen riding over the horizon.

http://www.smh.com.au/news/pets/owners-nuts-for-fake-dog-testicles/2007/05/11/1178390539146.html

Measure of a Man

"A man's enthusiasm for a date is best measured by how thoroughly he showers beforehand."

-kb

God Bless God

Why does the media insist on calling intelligent design an 'alternative' to the theory of evolution? That's like saying pancakes are a good alternative to an internal combustion engine.

Owen is Hawt!

I'm sick of all the women I know saying how cute Owen Wilson is. I'm happy to share this little goodie. Who's hot now?

Word of the Day

Todays word of the day comes to us from Joe.

Necropedaphilia

Get help, Joe. Get help soon.

Walk it off, kranki.

I don't think I mentioned a previous date that I went on. She had told me she was on crutches after having a knee operation and that was no big deal. It was all going very nicely and we were having a few drinks and talking about teaching and favorite spots in the city. That's when the young woman told me that she had just weeks before been informed that she had an incurable bone disease that will ultimately lead to her being confined to a wheel chair. That, as you can imagine, is a hard comment to respond to. "Wow, I said..." as I struggled for something positive to say "you're handling that news extremely well... good for you that you're not letting that stop you from doing things like going out and dating." Perhaps that's what people mean when they specify "must be disease free." I liked her and she asked me to call her. We actually planned to get together again but when she finally returned my call-- three weeks later, the luster had already worn away.

Cocktails and Wet Dreams: Rise of the Machines

I know that the title sounds like a porno starring Tom Cruise and Arnold Schwarzenegger and I'm sorry for putting that image in my head, and now, yours.

I'm really not the boldly go where no man has gone before explorer that I pretend to be, however when a friend of mine invited me to check out something called Dorkbot taking place at The Porn Palace my curiosity was peaked.

It was basically just a bunch of nerds getting together to drink and show off different robots that they'd constructed. Some were big, boring, chunks of welded metal that looked like some over-sized Frankensteinesque remote control car. And the robot doesn’t do anything? Cooll! Oh goodie they have slides of them building it in the garage… joy. They talked for what seemd forever and the most interesting part of the entire "talk" was the fact that one of the women had the last name Flybutter. Is that butter for flies or butter made out of flies? Fortunately there were some brilliant guys from Austria who were in town showing off some of their bartending robots. The cocktail making robot we got to meet was called Cockbot I. I'll give you a moment to giggle. Are you ready to read on? Okay, so this particular Cockbot mixes and pours martinis. I should also mention that the robot can read your mind. Really? Yes, really. It actually hooks up to electrodes on your head, reads your brainwaves and displays them with 3D graphics on a screen. The higher your alpha waves the dryer it makes the martini. It was simply impressive. After that some electrical engineer guy came out and did the most boring PowerPoint presentation I've ever seen. How one can make a presentation on cutting edge, computerized sex toys boring is beyond me. Just trust me when I say that this guy was the James Bond of boring sex toy chat. He was full-on 007 License to Kill a fun gathering. He does have a damn fine website. As the crowd was slipping off to escape, somebody at the Porn Palace broke out the Big Guns. I was not prepared.

I think the simplest way to explain it is to imagine taking a giant vibrator and hooking it up to the engine of a monster truck. If you can imagine that then you're on your way to grasping what a fucking machine is. When our host at the Porn Palace offered to give private demonstrations we all chuckled. Then I realized that was his business and he was 100% serious about the private demo offer. I like to consider myself to be curious and open minded so I quickly finished my drink and scurried out of there as if somebody had just offered to anally violate me with a massive robot-- which they had.
If you want to see some pictures of the Robo-Love-Makers you can click here at your own risk. Help yourself. I find these things scary so I’ll be hiding in my happy place rocking back and forth in the fetal position, far from the penetrating reach of the machines.

Some Red Flags Are Bigger Than Others

Sorry to leave both of my readers hanging by a thread there with that cliffhanger of an encounter. I've been terribly busy with my new hobby that I like to call "not-blogging."

It seems that my instincts to duck and cover were pretty much right on the money. The attractive young woman who very forwardly approached me was not the refreshing sorbet of interaction I was hoping for. The woman turned out to be better under bar lighting (admittedly, who isn't). I met up with her for coffee during the day and we were having a very nice conversation until she brought up the guy who had a crack problem that was living with her until just a few days ago. What's bigger than a red flag? I suppose that was waving an giant, pulsating, neon-green flag that is more easily visible from outer space than the great wall of China if it were on fire. She was perfectly nice but whatever the opposite of chemistry is, we had that. I had taken my dogs Ass Breath and Freckle Dick with me and they seemed to have a good time.

I think I'd be better off only dating chicks on meth. At least they're "perky." Or maybe advertising for a live-in crack addict is the better way to go. I suppose they all have their pros and cons. Perhaps lil quirks like that are something to be overlooked?

Apathy the Ultimate Aphrodisiac

My friend Vivian dropped by last night with her brother and I took them down to The Mission to get a drink, which turned into a mini bar hopping experience. I wasn't in going out mode, but it was nice to trek back into the social stratosphere. We were at the first bar for all of five minutes before this lovely young lady at the bar began chatting me up. Suddenly I felt like "the girl" as I realized that I was being flirted at. It was all very straight forward on her part. It almost didn't even seem like flirting because I didn't have to act charming or funny. We finished our conversation and I turned my attention to Vivian and her brother. I knew he was heading to Virginia and I asked him what he was planning to do when he got there.

"I'm going to find a way to earn a lot of money, buy a sailboat and sail it to China and Tibet. I'm gonna go by myself. How cool will it be to be there and be, like, everybody speaking a different language around me and have no idea what they're saying?"

Well, it sounded like a nice pipe dream but I didn't know him, so who knows, maybe he's the kind of guy who can make that happen. I complimented him on having an interesting answer and a destination. I didn't want to tell him that he'd really be sailing to India unless he wanted to walk the remaining thousand miles to Tibet. Who was I to inject logic to his vibe. I wasn't in a bubble bursting mood and so I watched his bubble float up to the ceiling of the bar and mingle with the pinatas hanging from the ceiling. I wondered if there were still goodies in the pinatas. Then I thought of buried pirate treasure and then I imagined modern day pirates capturing this poor guy who had saved all his money to buy a boat and sail it to Tibet... by himself.

My meandering mind was distracted from it's distraction by the young lady who was now standing beside me. It was as if she was patiently waiting for my mind to wander back from it's little journey. She smiled and told me that they were going to another bar if I wanted to go with them. I told her maybe. She told me that she lived nearby and that because I lived nearby too that we should go out together. Then she gave me her card and told me to get in touch with her.

That was easy. I didn't have to do a thing. Should I be worried. Is she going to drug me, murder me and skin me alive and do some weird human taxidermy on my corpse and put me into a lifelike position? I'll get back to you... hopefully.

Paris Hilton is DEAD!

The matching tiaras are a festive touch.

Long live the dead!

Message from Colonel Fuzzy

I'm part of a dive bar collective. It's basically a group that goes to check out a different run-down bar in the city every two weeks. We look for the kinds of places that have both character and characters. This last Thursday it was a divey karaoke bar and the one year anniversary of the group.

Below is an actual, factual message that one of the members in attendance sent to us.


Hey guys, Great night last night despite waking up in a prison cell. Does anybody have any idea what happened to my phone and car keys? I can see from my arrest record that I didn't have either when the nice taxi driver dumped me at the cop shop.

I've said it before and I'll say it again... karaoke is the devil's henchman and will lead you down a path of ruin.

Nostalgic for Boredom

Well, you're obviously here at my blog because you are bored. I know that's why I come here.

Yes, I know. You probably think that my life is all action-packed swashbuckling, battling the forces of evil and getting hand jobs from beautiful, Norwegian flight attendants at my villa in Rio. Well 99% of the time it is. But... sometimes it's good to remember your humble beginnings. So that's what I do. It helps me appreciate what I have now. I think back to a time before I was a blog rock star who had the world on a silver string and wore solid gold diapers (for those lazy days when you don't want to reach for your diamond encrusted bedpan)

I give the servants the afternoon off. I cancel all my appointments, endorsements and appearances. I send my harem over to stay at my mom's house and watch Oprah, and I give the dogs fifty dollars to take themselves out to dinner and the movies. Then I just sit there. I sit in silence until I'm bored. That's when I come here to write. That way I never lose touch with what it feels like to be an ordinary, bored guy in front of a computer. I wait till that feeling totally sinks into my pours. I let it seep through my skin and through my bones and into my marrow. I just focus and then finally my mind connects with that special place and I achieve a state of....

Wow, that was powerful. You see. That is exactly how I do it.

I feel that I've reconnected enough with the boredom and I'm going to leave you now. I'm going to have a bite of crackers with caviar that I have flown in hourly from the Ukraine, wash that down with some Dom and fresh orange juice. Then I'm getting into my custom painted, cherry-red time machine and travelling back into the past to have sex with famous women from history that no living man has ever bedded. Jealous? Fear not. I collected some video links that are kinda weird and amusing for you to watch.

Here they are! Some fun videos for you enjoying enjoyment. I hope you enjoy them.

Sifl and Olly "Genius in a box"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8de10hR6Xho&mode=related&search=

The Landlord
http://sjl.funnyordie.com//v1/view_video.php?viewkey=3efbc24c7d2583be6925

Prank backfires just a wee bit.
http://www.break.com/index/wife_prank_call_back_fires.html

Beat Box God
http://www.break.com/index/amazing_french_beat_boxer.html

Mr Sprinkles
http://acceptable.tv/videos/246-Mr-Sprinkles

Superhawk
http://acceptable.tv/videos/22-Superhawk

Does anybody know if Cleopatra had syphilis? Seriously. Do you? Something doesn't feel right down there. Hmmm, maybe I got it from Eleanor Roosevelt?