sit down. take a few slow, deep breaths while clearing your mind.
then watch Imagining the Tenth Dimension part 1 of 2 (7ish min):
watch it a couple times if necessary.
when you think you have it figured out (a bit), watch Imagining the Tenth Dimension part 2 of 2 (5 min):
after sorting it out in your head, write it down / type it out and give me a more layman's layman's kiddie version (in language a dog could understand).
until then i will work on my version. (because i think i got it, but i don't know what to do with it)
a random collection of whatever from beyond the cosmic horizon; the psychic adventures of a rambling, gambling, heavy metal beatnik.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
"little redneck bars" (old myspace blogs pt 4)
this is the long winded version of the first time barb and i went 'on a date'
Mar 23, 2005
little redneck bars
So Barb and I went to this little redneck bar a couple weeks ago. I've always wanted to visit every tiny neighborhood bar in and around the city, and while it's still a goal of sorts, I think that this one gave me a good taste of about 75 percent of what's out there.
As soon as we enter the room, time stops for a second and the entire bar has to give us that who-the-fuck look. Apparently, Saturday nights are Karaoke night, brought to you by your host, the squat and corpulent Betty. She probably has some kids around my age, who were most likely off drinking heavily somewhere else. Betty likes her karaoke mic with a shit-ton of reverb too, so her slight southern drawl echoes like she's broadcasting from deep space.
I scanned the room as we sat down. There's a bar in the middle, a pool table on one side, and booths on the opposite side. The karaoke machine sat on a card table which Betty orbited like a satellite. We ordered our drinks as I noticed the gray haired guys to chubby ladies ratio was pretty even. One very denim clad patron kept giving Barb the eye. Well, some guys cant help it, but he was sitting straight to our left. Every time we looked over, he was staring right at her, like how a grizzly might focus into the river before he smacks a salmon into the air. He must have noticed us noticing him, because he finally moved to the other side of the bar, where he could face forward and glare, the way a hungry man might salivate over burgers on his grill. Betty took the mic back from some drunk guy and was slightly winded from dancing. "Even big girls deserve a dippin' now and then!" she squealed.
Pretty soon, a lady came up and asked us
Mar 23, 2005
little redneck bars
So Barb and I went to this little redneck bar a couple weeks ago. I've always wanted to visit every tiny neighborhood bar in and around the city, and while it's still a goal of sorts, I think that this one gave me a good taste of about 75 percent of what's out there.
As soon as we enter the room, time stops for a second and the entire bar has to give us that who-the-fuck look. Apparently, Saturday nights are Karaoke night, brought to you by your host, the squat and corpulent Betty. She probably has some kids around my age, who were most likely off drinking heavily somewhere else. Betty likes her karaoke mic with a shit-ton of reverb too, so her slight southern drawl echoes like she's broadcasting from deep space.
I scanned the room as we sat down. There's a bar in the middle, a pool table on one side, and booths on the opposite side. The karaoke machine sat on a card table which Betty orbited like a satellite. We ordered our drinks as I noticed the gray haired guys to chubby ladies ratio was pretty even. One very denim clad patron kept giving Barb the eye. Well, some guys cant help it, but he was sitting straight to our left. Every time we looked over, he was staring right at her, like how a grizzly might focus into the river before he smacks a salmon into the air. He must have noticed us noticing him, because he finally moved to the other side of the bar, where he could face forward and glare, the way a hungry man might salivate over burgers on his grill. Betty took the mic back from some drunk guy and was slightly winded from dancing. "Even big girls deserve a dippin' now and then!" she squealed.
Pretty soon, a lady came up and asked us
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
bunny timelapse
a classic video from my personal youtube vault. yes, the white bunny is a girl.
an excerpt from "what do bunnies do?" a documentary featuring 4 hours of 'hidden camera' bunny footage, time-lapsed down to 39 minutes.
an excerpt from "what do bunnies do?" a documentary featuring 4 hours of 'hidden camera' bunny footage, time-lapsed down to 39 minutes.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
"the Magic of White Castle" (old myspace blogs pt 3)
at one point, this was the highlight of my writing 'career'... a true story about a late night white castle visit.
enjoy!
Feb 23, 2006
the magic of white castle
Current mood:accomplished
it was late on a sunday night. the frat boys were out, drunk and in a tizzy. there was a bum asking for cigarettes. three little munchkin ladies flipped grease soaked onions on a burner with a spatula, waddling around yelling into microphones about orders.
my friend used the ladies restroom. i scanned the room for the cop parked outside. must be undercover. the entire restaraunt was trashed; little boxes, half finished soft drinks, ketchup stained napkins, and cold french fries all belied a huge battle.
finally one of the munchkin ladies yelled out a number "104!" and the frat boy chorus all responded in unison. "104! BINGO!"
some guy woke up in a booth and stumbled up to grab a sack full of future diarrhea and stomach cramps.
i looked down at my ticket. it was number 117.
we finally realized that leaning on the counter wasn't going to impress or speed up the munchkins. so we sat down and
enjoy!
Feb 23, 2006
the magic of white castle
Current mood:accomplished
it was late on a sunday night. the frat boys were out, drunk and in a tizzy. there was a bum asking for cigarettes. three little munchkin ladies flipped grease soaked onions on a burner with a spatula, waddling around yelling into microphones about orders.
my friend used the ladies restroom. i scanned the room for the cop parked outside. must be undercover. the entire restaraunt was trashed; little boxes, half finished soft drinks, ketchup stained napkins, and cold french fries all belied a huge battle.
finally one of the munchkin ladies yelled out a number "104!" and the frat boy chorus all responded in unison. "104! BINGO!"
some guy woke up in a booth and stumbled up to grab a sack full of future diarrhea and stomach cramps.
i looked down at my ticket. it was number 117.
we finally realized that leaning on the counter wasn't going to impress or speed up the munchkins. so we sat down and
old blog myspace blogs pt 2
this one is actually halfway interesting.
Jan 18, 2005
Stolen Car blog (or the mighty INTUITION Pwns All)
My friend Erin came over last night and fell asleep watching a movie. I sat up on the puter all night and at about 8am I woke her up and asked if she'd run me by my bank deposit box downtown on the circle. She asked me to warm up her car, and I went out and pulled it directly in front of the house, turned the heat all the way up, and left the door unlocked. Keep in mind, where I live is like a sweet smelling flower growing out of a pile of rancid manure, a great neighborhood poking out of a ghetto parka. Except that Chris had his window busted out (for the stereo) just months ago on the street out front... as well as another car being broken into (for some cds) that belonged to a friend of Andrew around the same time. Besides that, it was 10 fucking degrees outside.
I came inside and we chatted for about 5 minutes, I looked outside to check on the car no less than 3 times. Then we went downstairs and she ran to the bathroom. Everyone was up, as some guys had shown up early to pour concrete in the basement. When we walked outside, the car was gone. All in the span of about 8 or 9 minutes. She called the cops,
Jan 18, 2005
Stolen Car blog (or the mighty INTUITION Pwns All)
My friend Erin came over last night and fell asleep watching a movie. I sat up on the puter all night and at about 8am I woke her up and asked if she'd run me by my bank deposit box downtown on the circle. She asked me to warm up her car, and I went out and pulled it directly in front of the house, turned the heat all the way up, and left the door unlocked. Keep in mind, where I live is like a sweet smelling flower growing out of a pile of rancid manure, a great neighborhood poking out of a ghetto parka. Except that Chris had his window busted out (for the stereo) just months ago on the street out front... as well as another car being broken into (for some cds) that belonged to a friend of Andrew around the same time. Besides that, it was 10 fucking degrees outside.
I came inside and we chatted for about 5 minutes, I looked outside to check on the car no less than 3 times. Then we went downstairs and she ran to the bathroom. Everyone was up, as some guys had shown up early to pour concrete in the basement. When we walked outside, the car was gone. All in the span of about 8 or 9 minutes. She called the cops,
some old myspace blogs pt 1
i guess i don't have time to get all creative as of yet with this new blog. but here are some boring old blogs i wrote way back in 2005:
Jan 4, 2005
remaking vince neil
lol. i can't believe he could agree to doing this 'reality' show. someone told me it was on and i flipped the channel. there it was, in all it's radiant glory.
i missed whatever part there was about sucking the fat out of his face and lifting his eyes through surgery. but he almost looked the same. everyone on the television was talking about how great he looked, over and over. he even had his own "queer eye" type of team to help him pick some sexy stage clothes.
apparently he quit drinking and lost weight too. good for him. then they take him to the best hair stylist and hair color master in Hollywood, where they cut his hair shorter and dye it brown. again, he doesn't look any better to me, but they're all raving about it. "VINCE LOOKS SO GOOD, I'M SO IMPRESSED!" bellowed his fiance with her ever present fake tittery, caked on makeup, and redrawn eyebrows.
he goes to the studio to work with desmond child, hitmaker to the stars. where, much to nobody's surprise, he can't sing. he can't hit the notes, he's getting frustrated, and there is a camera in his face. beautiful. desmond child says "i don't feel sorry for superstars." well no shit, mang. and to top it all off,
Jan 4, 2005
remaking vince neil
lol. i can't believe he could agree to doing this 'reality' show. someone told me it was on and i flipped the channel. there it was, in all it's radiant glory.
i missed whatever part there was about sucking the fat out of his face and lifting his eyes through surgery. but he almost looked the same. everyone on the television was talking about how great he looked, over and over. he even had his own "queer eye" type of team to help him pick some sexy stage clothes.
apparently he quit drinking and lost weight too. good for him. then they take him to the best hair stylist and hair color master in Hollywood, where they cut his hair shorter and dye it brown. again, he doesn't look any better to me, but they're all raving about it. "VINCE LOOKS SO GOOD, I'M SO IMPRESSED!" bellowed his fiance with her ever present fake tittery, caked on makeup, and redrawn eyebrows.
he goes to the studio to work with desmond child, hitmaker to the stars. where, much to nobody's surprise, he can't sing. he can't hit the notes, he's getting frustrated, and there is a camera in his face. beautiful. desmond child says "i don't feel sorry for superstars." well no shit, mang. and to top it all off,
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