Finally found a door that matches my hip Indian Silk Shirt
and then I go and take my shirt off. Why?
Monday, September 28, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
speakeasy
met up with ol Kelly McGee and we played dress up. she brought me to a club with some good rock. then to an afterparty at a speakeasy. some music and vodka. no leopards were killed in the making of the pictures.
here's a comparison of Alabama's feet with Kelly's.
Kelly, upon learning that her mental disability stipend had been canceled due to "excessive alcohol abuse"
here's a comparison of Alabama's feet with Kelly's.
Kelly, upon learning that her mental disability stipend had been canceled due to "excessive alcohol abuse"
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Email comparison: Part II
another two emails received on the same day...
here's one from an unnamed source.
Hi Mark, Glad to hear you're out of LA for now. It is a crazy place for shure! And you're on your own Odyssey. I'm suppose we all are. You're right - the waitress may call the cops if you speak so finely! Today I met a real charwoman type; I could hardly understand her, but it was fun trying. She had some plants for sale, mate, but not the ones I wanted luv. We'll see tomorrow if she turns up with basil (pronounced bazo) and mint (meent). I'm starting a small garden, the operative word being 'small'. Keep in touch. Drive easy!
And here's one from my buddy Don...gotta love him..
Hey Marco,
I was thinking about that disgusting, perverted fantasy you were telling me about with the little girls in school uniforms and after awhile thought it might be a pretty fun thing to try out.
One of the girls that I see is very petite, very pretty and up for anything so I gave her some money and had her go buy the things we needed. You know, the short little skirt, white blouse, long white socks etc. Then I told her to come back later wearing everything except panties. When she arrived she had her long, dark hair in 2 pony tails, no makeup and after awhile I found that she had shaved her sweet little pussy leaving not a hair. She really got into it and was going all the way. As soon as she got to my house she came over and sat on my lap and pretended she was a little girl. I let her snuggle into my chest and began stroking her legs and feeling her little buds for breasts. Then she reached down and starting playing with my cock. She acted like she had never seen one before and was more or less playing with it like a toy all the while having a very cute and curious little smile on her face.
Needless to say all this went on for quite awhile and getting more and more outrageous. I don't want to shock you with the particulars but you can take my word for it, your fantasy was totally experienced in every concievable way possible.
Just thought you'd like to know.
Don
Just for the record I was at Don's place drinking and talking about our checkered histories and he was telling me about one or a dozen girls (hookers) he was fucking and I was smiling like I usually do and nodding my head and playing guitar. Then he asked me or maybe I just volunteered that because of the catholic schools all around and the uniform that is to my eyes a Schoolgirl hooker uniform with red and black plaid skirt and knee high stockings and a low buttoned white shirt I said, "hell, I don't know a man alive who can look at those girls and not think dirty thoughts. Even the Dali Lama would get a boner."
and let me say for the record that I do not advocate sex with "little girls". No. That just sounds criminal. IT was simply a fantasy I expressed to keep myself in the conversation that was definitely orbiting sex...and I'm a little suspicious that Don pretends he had never had that fantasy before. bullshit! The day I plant some new idea about sex in Don's head is the day he has completely lost his memory. Anyway,
little did I know that my simple comment would lead to getting the details of Don's trial run. (I love how he says he doesn't want to "shock me with the particulars." ha! after my time in mexico he could fuck a donkey in the ass while flying a hot air balloon and I wouldn't be shocked.) That fucker. I don't regret passing up the chance to rent a pair of hookers for $70 and see for myself if the reality lived up to the fantasy. It sounds like it worked for Don but he and I have slightly different views of relationships. I'm sure if I live to Don's age I will be throwing all of my Social Security money at young whores and having them wear all kinds of costumes; why blow my money on them now?...wait...that sounded callous and cold. I mean, there is a time and place for everything, like the bible says.
here's one from an unnamed source.
Hi Mark, Glad to hear you're out of LA for now. It is a crazy place for shure! And you're on your own Odyssey. I'm suppose we all are. You're right - the waitress may call the cops if you speak so finely! Today I met a real charwoman type; I could hardly understand her, but it was fun trying. She had some plants for sale, mate, but not the ones I wanted luv. We'll see tomorrow if she turns up with basil (pronounced bazo) and mint (meent). I'm starting a small garden, the operative word being 'small'. Keep in touch. Drive easy!
And here's one from my buddy Don...gotta love him..
Hey Marco,
I was thinking about that disgusting, perverted fantasy you were telling me about with the little girls in school uniforms and after awhile thought it might be a pretty fun thing to try out.
One of the girls that I see is very petite, very pretty and up for anything so I gave her some money and had her go buy the things we needed. You know, the short little skirt, white blouse, long white socks etc. Then I told her to come back later wearing everything except panties. When she arrived she had her long, dark hair in 2 pony tails, no makeup and after awhile I found that she had shaved her sweet little pussy leaving not a hair. She really got into it and was going all the way. As soon as she got to my house she came over and sat on my lap and pretended she was a little girl. I let her snuggle into my chest and began stroking her legs and feeling her little buds for breasts. Then she reached down and starting playing with my cock. She acted like she had never seen one before and was more or less playing with it like a toy all the while having a very cute and curious little smile on her face.
Needless to say all this went on for quite awhile and getting more and more outrageous. I don't want to shock you with the particulars but you can take my word for it, your fantasy was totally experienced in every concievable way possible.
Just thought you'd like to know.
Don
Just for the record I was at Don's place drinking and talking about our checkered histories and he was telling me about one or a dozen girls (hookers) he was fucking and I was smiling like I usually do and nodding my head and playing guitar. Then he asked me or maybe I just volunteered that because of the catholic schools all around and the uniform that is to my eyes a Schoolgirl hooker uniform with red and black plaid skirt and knee high stockings and a low buttoned white shirt I said, "hell, I don't know a man alive who can look at those girls and not think dirty thoughts. Even the Dali Lama would get a boner."
and let me say for the record that I do not advocate sex with "little girls". No. That just sounds criminal. IT was simply a fantasy I expressed to keep myself in the conversation that was definitely orbiting sex...and I'm a little suspicious that Don pretends he had never had that fantasy before. bullshit! The day I plant some new idea about sex in Don's head is the day he has completely lost his memory. Anyway,
little did I know that my simple comment would lead to getting the details of Don's trial run. (I love how he says he doesn't want to "shock me with the particulars." ha! after my time in mexico he could fuck a donkey in the ass while flying a hot air balloon and I wouldn't be shocked.) That fucker. I don't regret passing up the chance to rent a pair of hookers for $70 and see for myself if the reality lived up to the fantasy. It sounds like it worked for Don but he and I have slightly different views of relationships. I'm sure if I live to Don's age I will be throwing all of my Social Security money at young whores and having them wear all kinds of costumes; why blow my money on them now?...wait...that sounded callous and cold. I mean, there is a time and place for everything, like the bible says.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
open letter to jon rolston
Jon,
sorry I destroyed the directional switch on your '82 Kawasaki 750. You see, I went to clean the contacts, thinking that was the problem with the headlight, and I broke the thumb switch taking it apart. (I was supposed to turn the switch and then pull instead of just pry it out with a knife. Oops) Then I glued it back on with superglue...but...damn it...the switch had two tiny return springs and I had it back together once and then twice and then the third time I compressed the spring to fit the pieces all together and "boing" it got away from me and flew across the garage and into the pile of tools in the corner by the door. I swore, "fuck". but I had already lost a ball bearing that was some kind of index for the position of left or right... But the thumb switch was totally loose and so I decided after a day to hunt for the spring. I took everything out of the corner and when I thought I was getting close I leaned up close to the wall and dislodged a huge industrial sized C Clamp that was hanging from a deer horn on the wall...and the clamp dropped onto my forehead and almost knocked me unconscious. IN fact in my daze I stepped on a rake and totally snapped it up into my face like some cartoon...then I knocked over a sledgehammer. then I took a long nap on the couch while listening to light rock.
later, I still looked for the spring everywhere on the ground and on the table and even inside a plastic container of old paint thinner (because little springs usually find the worst place to land) Alas, I could not find it. So the switch is fucked. If you turn it to the left it will just stay there forever and not return to center. Likewise to the right. Things like that drive me insane. You might adjust better. I did manage to fix the right turn light. but now it will just stay on all day unless you manually return the thumb switch to center. Even then the exact center takes some practice to hit and you should probably be paying attention to the crippled pedestrians and cars around you.
Also, I do not know why the starter relay stopped working. You can ground the two contacts to get it to start but that was not my fault. I swear. IT was just a coincidence.
Now, I did eat some food that you told me specifically was forbidden. It was not out of disrespect...but I can not resist crackers and cheese.
I think the wiring has failed somewhere. I don't think it is grounding because the battery would discharge faster. I think some wire is just disconnected somewhere.
Additionally, I do not have head lice, as far as I know, so I do not think the one or two times I slept in your bed will lead to you having to hire the bug sniffing beagle again.
I also want to thank you for your advice on my writing, how it is self pitying sometimes and how I attack my father routinely and without provication or constructive point. I thought it was all in the name of entertainment but I think I was deluding myself. (Sorry Dad!)
As for my plans on studying to be a motorcycle technician and your suggestion that I would "end up like Todd Hamilton". Ah, well, fuck you, respectfully. I admire any man who can rebuild a transmission and even if I never do it I would like to have some training so I stop destroying bikes that I am trying to fix. And the fact you said this while stumbling around a San Francisco sports themed Hawaiian bar, drinking mango flavored vodka and hitting on girls who were obviously with their significant others (one whom you challenged to a fight) and one woman gave some non verbal communication that was clearly hostile...anyway, you got no room to talk about cliches. I'm enrolling in UTI motorcycle technician institute asap.
here's an article on this matter that Poll (a reader of Jon's blog) thankfully passed along...
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/24/magazine/24labor-t.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&sq=honda%20motorcycle%20masters%20degree&st=cse&scp=2
Finally, I thank you for your hosptiatity. Sophia was perfectly justified in kicking us out the door (literally throwing your shoes at your urine soaked feet) and forcing you to sleep on the side of the road, illegally parked, snoring and cramped at the neck while I pissed on a telephone pole. Yes, she would not have kept her pride if she had allowed you to drink to the stage of blackout and still sleep in her house. Bravo. I like her even if she is too mature for you. Anyway, it was all part of the experience I signed up for when I moved into the van and surprised you at your front door. I was very happy to eat the Cliff House buffet with you and her. I like living in a van and pissing in a jug and shitting in a newspaper and then later going to a classy buffet with a harp player busting out Phantom of the Opera tunes and there is Creme Brule and prime rib and bacon and tortellini with fresh mozzerella and champagne poured by a pretty gay waiter and we all eat fresh fruit and look out the window at the freighters on the stormy ocean and you kiss Sophia and she smiles with her full lips and I wipe up the bacon grease with a croissant and wash it down with orange juice...and then I go back and sleep in my van. that's living.
So, anytime you need a place to stay, and have a physician signed note saying you are free of head lice, then come see me. We will set you up.
Thanks.
P.S. The motorcycle gloves you gave me worked perfectly for driving gloves since the van's lack of power steering normally leaves my fingers chaffed and raw. You are awesome!
Here's Jon...a man's best friend....though an Arctic Wolf's worst enemy as you can see him typying "Kill all wolves" into his iPhone.
sorry I destroyed the directional switch on your '82 Kawasaki 750. You see, I went to clean the contacts, thinking that was the problem with the headlight, and I broke the thumb switch taking it apart. (I was supposed to turn the switch and then pull instead of just pry it out with a knife. Oops) Then I glued it back on with superglue...but...damn it...the switch had two tiny return springs and I had it back together once and then twice and then the third time I compressed the spring to fit the pieces all together and "boing" it got away from me and flew across the garage and into the pile of tools in the corner by the door. I swore, "fuck". but I had already lost a ball bearing that was some kind of index for the position of left or right... But the thumb switch was totally loose and so I decided after a day to hunt for the spring. I took everything out of the corner and when I thought I was getting close I leaned up close to the wall and dislodged a huge industrial sized C Clamp that was hanging from a deer horn on the wall...and the clamp dropped onto my forehead and almost knocked me unconscious. IN fact in my daze I stepped on a rake and totally snapped it up into my face like some cartoon...then I knocked over a sledgehammer. then I took a long nap on the couch while listening to light rock.
later, I still looked for the spring everywhere on the ground and on the table and even inside a plastic container of old paint thinner (because little springs usually find the worst place to land) Alas, I could not find it. So the switch is fucked. If you turn it to the left it will just stay there forever and not return to center. Likewise to the right. Things like that drive me insane. You might adjust better. I did manage to fix the right turn light. but now it will just stay on all day unless you manually return the thumb switch to center. Even then the exact center takes some practice to hit and you should probably be paying attention to the crippled pedestrians and cars around you.
Also, I do not know why the starter relay stopped working. You can ground the two contacts to get it to start but that was not my fault. I swear. IT was just a coincidence.
Now, I did eat some food that you told me specifically was forbidden. It was not out of disrespect...but I can not resist crackers and cheese.
I think the wiring has failed somewhere. I don't think it is grounding because the battery would discharge faster. I think some wire is just disconnected somewhere.
Additionally, I do not have head lice, as far as I know, so I do not think the one or two times I slept in your bed will lead to you having to hire the bug sniffing beagle again.
I also want to thank you for your advice on my writing, how it is self pitying sometimes and how I attack my father routinely and without provication or constructive point. I thought it was all in the name of entertainment but I think I was deluding myself. (Sorry Dad!)
As for my plans on studying to be a motorcycle technician and your suggestion that I would "end up like Todd Hamilton". Ah, well, fuck you, respectfully. I admire any man who can rebuild a transmission and even if I never do it I would like to have some training so I stop destroying bikes that I am trying to fix. And the fact you said this while stumbling around a San Francisco sports themed Hawaiian bar, drinking mango flavored vodka and hitting on girls who were obviously with their significant others (one whom you challenged to a fight) and one woman gave some non verbal communication that was clearly hostile...anyway, you got no room to talk about cliches. I'm enrolling in UTI motorcycle technician institute asap.
here's an article on this matter that Poll (a reader of Jon's blog) thankfully passed along...
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/24/magazine/24labor-t.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&sq=honda%20motorcycle%20masters%20degree&st=cse&scp=2
Finally, I thank you for your hosptiatity. Sophia was perfectly justified in kicking us out the door (literally throwing your shoes at your urine soaked feet) and forcing you to sleep on the side of the road, illegally parked, snoring and cramped at the neck while I pissed on a telephone pole. Yes, she would not have kept her pride if she had allowed you to drink to the stage of blackout and still sleep in her house. Bravo. I like her even if she is too mature for you. Anyway, it was all part of the experience I signed up for when I moved into the van and surprised you at your front door. I was very happy to eat the Cliff House buffet with you and her. I like living in a van and pissing in a jug and shitting in a newspaper and then later going to a classy buffet with a harp player busting out Phantom of the Opera tunes and there is Creme Brule and prime rib and bacon and tortellini with fresh mozzerella and champagne poured by a pretty gay waiter and we all eat fresh fruit and look out the window at the freighters on the stormy ocean and you kiss Sophia and she smiles with her full lips and I wipe up the bacon grease with a croissant and wash it down with orange juice...and then I go back and sleep in my van. that's living.
So, anytime you need a place to stay, and have a physician signed note saying you are free of head lice, then come see me. We will set you up.
Thanks.
P.S. The motorcycle gloves you gave me worked perfectly for driving gloves since the van's lack of power steering normally leaves my fingers chaffed and raw. You are awesome!
Here's Jon...a man's best friend....though an Arctic Wolf's worst enemy as you can see him typying "Kill all wolves" into his iPhone.
midwest wrap up
I forgot to mention that the only change of expression I had was when I went to Halloween II and there was exactly one other person there sitting five rows in front of me...a military man judging by his haircut and the nearby military base...(the cashier asked me "Do you have a military ID?" Uh, are your eyes open? Exactly what branch of the military allows someone to look as ragged as me and go to a 10pm showing of Halloween II wearing bell bottom pants and a three month old beard? MAybe I infiltrated the hippy brigade?
anyway, there were a few moments of complete gore (Michael stomps on a guy's head...graphically caving it in) And I found myself laughing a little...then looking around. The other guy had fallen asleep. It was just me...laughing in a Junction City, Kansas movie theater as Michael Myers murdered dozens of people. That was a slight change of expression. otherwise it was all just mindless staring at the road. Of course my mind was terribly active and I wrote several books and movie scripts that would be instant hits if I were able to put them on paper and mail them to an agent, but that will probably never happen. Mostly I just imagined that all this land was leading to a great destiny and a home where I will sleep end to end in a bed and not diagonally.
anyway, there were a few moments of complete gore (Michael stomps on a guy's head...graphically caving it in) And I found myself laughing a little...then looking around. The other guy had fallen asleep. It was just me...laughing in a Junction City, Kansas movie theater as Michael Myers murdered dozens of people. That was a slight change of expression. otherwise it was all just mindless staring at the road. Of course my mind was terribly active and I wrote several books and movie scripts that would be instant hits if I were able to put them on paper and mail them to an agent, but that will probably never happen. Mostly I just imagined that all this land was leading to a great destiny and a home where I will sleep end to end in a bed and not diagonally.
You think I'm nuts?
This man, Cha cha, is taking his Harley around the world. It looked like he would make it. He was making Kim Chee at a rest stop. When he reached Russia he said he would buy a rifle to kill any thieves. It's like the apocalyspe has already happened.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
denver
not an easy trip to denver. but I didn't kill any badgers or other rodents along the way. a rat or mouse is now living with me in the van, eating my fruit, but that will have to stop. I have no extra food to give to a rat.
Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Colorado. These are nice states. I've driven down this road before...really following my own footsteps as the song goes. Roamed and Rambled. But there is a purpose and my self destructive fixation on perfection isn't haunting me as much. Lately I pondered the meaning of love. It's codependency, right? Ha ha. But I'm going to sort that out one day. It's an easy world for the bold and a perilous one for the meek. A coward dies a hundred deaths...a brave man dies but one. I think that applies to all realms of activity.
so. onward...this is a brief stop in Denver. It looks to be a solo trip east after giving a guy named Ben a ride here from S.F.
Ben may have been Athena disguised as a hapless hitchhiker. As a test. You know, Zeus, god of all gods, is the protector of strangers and travelers. keep that in mind. Athena likes to disguise herself to trick us up. Do her wrong and they gods will get you back.
it's all there in the Odyssey.
here's a picture of Athena in the form of Ben...
Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Colorado. These are nice states. I've driven down this road before...really following my own footsteps as the song goes. Roamed and Rambled. But there is a purpose and my self destructive fixation on perfection isn't haunting me as much. Lately I pondered the meaning of love. It's codependency, right? Ha ha. But I'm going to sort that out one day. It's an easy world for the bold and a perilous one for the meek. A coward dies a hundred deaths...a brave man dies but one. I think that applies to all realms of activity.
so. onward...this is a brief stop in Denver. It looks to be a solo trip east after giving a guy named Ben a ride here from S.F.
Ben may have been Athena disguised as a hapless hitchhiker. As a test. You know, Zeus, god of all gods, is the protector of strangers and travelers. keep that in mind. Athena likes to disguise herself to trick us up. Do her wrong and they gods will get you back.
it's all there in the Odyssey.
here's a picture of Athena in the form of Ben...
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
s.f.
A low point or high point depending on how you look at it.
Some other pics violated my photo album terms and conditions so you can't see those yet...
ALl I remember is hearing Jon tell a homeless guy, "I will pay you $5 to piss on your recyclables." and the homeless dude didn't hesitate. "piss all you want. hell yeah."
I was thinking that something had gone horribly wrong with the world.
Then Jon started to piss and many angry screams followed. This wasn't an alley, this was a very busy sidewalk full of labor day revelers. ANd Jon was misbehaving...badly and defending it with violence.
Later in the night Jon offered a man $5 to fight in the street "to the death."
and if you think Jon's girlfriend thought this was all funny, think again. No. IT was all bad.
We ended up next to a fire hydrant, sleeping,waiting for the cops to get off the street.
"What did I do wrong?" asked Jon innocently.
I sighed...
you decide for yourself...
this photo was deleted by request...
If you look very closely you will see that Jon is only wearing socks...
this video was deleted by request
the contents of my pockets:
jon's accounts... I like the "gas? food?" note...
this is how it all began...
Some other pics violated my photo album terms and conditions so you can't see those yet...
ALl I remember is hearing Jon tell a homeless guy, "I will pay you $5 to piss on your recyclables." and the homeless dude didn't hesitate. "piss all you want. hell yeah."
I was thinking that something had gone horribly wrong with the world.
Then Jon started to piss and many angry screams followed. This wasn't an alley, this was a very busy sidewalk full of labor day revelers. ANd Jon was misbehaving...badly and defending it with violence.
Later in the night Jon offered a man $5 to fight in the street "to the death."
and if you think Jon's girlfriend thought this was all funny, think again. No. IT was all bad.
We ended up next to a fire hydrant, sleeping,waiting for the cops to get off the street.
"What did I do wrong?" asked Jon innocently.
I sighed...
you decide for yourself...
this photo was deleted by request...
If you look very closely you will see that Jon is only wearing socks...
this video was deleted by request
the contents of my pockets:
jon's accounts... I like the "gas? food?" note...
this is how it all began...
Monday, September 7, 2009
Kerouac Nights...beat...who put the lights out?
The ride share did not go as planned.I know that's surprising.
Turned out that instead of a serial killer I ended up with three women in the van. All of us were terrified. One wrong move and I would get maced...or pepper sprayed...and they were waiting for that one wrong move.
awful. awkward. tense.
one fell asleep in my bed. the other fell asleep in her chair. The third called her husband and told her to start driving from the bay area and pick her up as soon as possible.
ugh.
I didn't know if we were going to make it. honestly, the van does not appreciate the hate those women threw at it. neither did I. night driving. hundreds of trucks driving madly past us. exhaustion. anxiety. a gigantic hill. threat of blowouts...and engine failure.
I had planned for a funny and revealing picture of the four of us at a truck stop or in front of a house. This is the spot where that picture would go. but there would be no picture. not after the first girl bailed half way. That took the fun out of it. the second girl said, "let's just get going."
not at all the attitude I needed.
"The third girl woke up and said, "who wants condoms?" she was from Venice...surprise!
So no picture. Maybe I'll draw up what I saw. or explain it. The first girl (venice) was wearing yoga clothes and after handing me condoms said she was menstruating every two weeks.
I said, "Those girls are waiting."
The second girl is a USC student. Sociology. studying parent child relationships in prisoners. OK. She took a copy of my ID and registration can texted her family every 20 minutes. if she missed a text the police would be informed immediately.
the third girl. JEsus. what a mistake. Simi valley Indian princess. A software engineer. Brilliant. wearing a spotless silk Sari. One look at the van stopped her dead in her tracks.
"Look, " I said, "you get to sit on the ice cooler. But let me get a beer out of it first. Ha ha. just kidding."
she didn't laugh or say a word. But she did text her husband. "SAVE ME. HURRY>"
Then came the awful drive. I don't want to relive it.
4 am. lost in North Beach following the footsteps of Kerouac and Brad. Brad! Where are you now. help me find my way.
"Could you pull over. I'm going to be sick" said Venice girl.
ugh. I didn't know where the richmond district was. I could only see the lights of trucks passing in the night. my vision was shot. I was wired.
"Do you want to fuck?" she asked.
"No, baby. I'm too tired. I can't see. My balls are asleep."
"Let me out here."
Ok.
she 's gone into the k beat fog. we all made it to where we were going. But I actually don't believe that is the important thing. Aren't we all going to end up somewhere. it is the process that is important. And these girls were not on my side as far as the process goes.
then I fall asleep in my van after hunting for a parking spot for two hours.
and that was the part of the trip that made sense. after that it just got ugly...as some later posts will show.
Turned out that instead of a serial killer I ended up with three women in the van. All of us were terrified. One wrong move and I would get maced...or pepper sprayed...and they were waiting for that one wrong move.
awful. awkward. tense.
one fell asleep in my bed. the other fell asleep in her chair. The third called her husband and told her to start driving from the bay area and pick her up as soon as possible.
ugh.
I didn't know if we were going to make it. honestly, the van does not appreciate the hate those women threw at it. neither did I. night driving. hundreds of trucks driving madly past us. exhaustion. anxiety. a gigantic hill. threat of blowouts...and engine failure.
I had planned for a funny and revealing picture of the four of us at a truck stop or in front of a house. This is the spot where that picture would go. but there would be no picture. not after the first girl bailed half way. That took the fun out of it. the second girl said, "let's just get going."
not at all the attitude I needed.
"The third girl woke up and said, "who wants condoms?" she was from Venice...surprise!
So no picture. Maybe I'll draw up what I saw. or explain it. The first girl (venice) was wearing yoga clothes and after handing me condoms said she was menstruating every two weeks.
I said, "Those girls are waiting."
The second girl is a USC student. Sociology. studying parent child relationships in prisoners. OK. She took a copy of my ID and registration can texted her family every 20 minutes. if she missed a text the police would be informed immediately.
the third girl. JEsus. what a mistake. Simi valley Indian princess. A software engineer. Brilliant. wearing a spotless silk Sari. One look at the van stopped her dead in her tracks.
"Look, " I said, "you get to sit on the ice cooler. But let me get a beer out of it first. Ha ha. just kidding."
she didn't laugh or say a word. But she did text her husband. "SAVE ME. HURRY>"
Then came the awful drive. I don't want to relive it.
4 am. lost in North Beach following the footsteps of Kerouac and Brad. Brad! Where are you now. help me find my way.
"Could you pull over. I'm going to be sick" said Venice girl.
ugh. I didn't know where the richmond district was. I could only see the lights of trucks passing in the night. my vision was shot. I was wired.
"Do you want to fuck?" she asked.
"No, baby. I'm too tired. I can't see. My balls are asleep."
"Let me out here."
Ok.
she 's gone into the k beat fog. we all made it to where we were going. But I actually don't believe that is the important thing. Aren't we all going to end up somewhere. it is the process that is important. And these girls were not on my side as far as the process goes.
then I fall asleep in my van after hunting for a parking spot for two hours.
and that was the part of the trip that made sense. after that it just got ugly...as some later posts will show.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Ingloreus Peece uf sheet
In my days as a hollywood script consultant I would periodically read a script in which there would be the following passage or something similar:
Int. Hitler's War Room
HITLER: These jews are evil! I hate all jews. All jews must die!
Hitler pounds table. His assistants look scared.
HITLER: Germans are superior and all jews must die.
C.U. Hitler's sweating and feverishly passionate eyes.
Smash Cut to: Ext. Field. Hero and his men march stoically over a pile of dead Germans.
I would write in red pen in the margins... "Unless you are personally sucking Harvey Weinstein's circumcised Jewish penis, or your name is Donald Trump, then this will never be produced."
Well, guess what Quentin Tarantino does in his spare time...when Kevin Smith isn't reaming Harvey's bum hole?
Inglorious Basterds....what a complete disaster. Only someone closely associated with Harvey's colon could possibly get him to bankroll this train wreck. $70 million dollars to rewrite history, diminish the accomplishments of every veteran, including Teddy Ballgame Williams who REALLY DID FIGHT IN WWII AND ACTUALLY HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH THE OUTCOME...unlike every character or representation in this movie.
Embarassingly slow footed, (I read more subtitles than in Apocalypto) ugly, pointless camera work, amateur acting, frivolous, useless, sacrilegious, atrocious.
I went into this with such low expectations (after the abysmal Death Proof) that I thought there was no way I could be disappointed. Alas, I shook my head often and vigorously.
Fundamentally, what is the fucking point of inventing a group of jewish assassins to kill Hitler, whose real life suicide is much more fitting a coward? There is no point. It is the choice of a guy writing in his office when he should be making copies, or the choice of someone who can get Brad Pitt to speak with a southern accent. Either way, the storytelling was abandoned in favor of what amounts to a gag.
Int. Studio Lot office.
Tarantino: "How funny would it be for these guys to kill Hitler?"
Harvey Weinstein: Funny as hell. Now keep sucking my cock.
Yep, about as funny as having the Germans make a movie where they kill Roosevelt and fuck Winston Churchill in the ass while Margaret Thatcher watches dressed in leather and atomic bombs detonate over New York. Ha ha. How funny would that be? It's like pulp fiction except sort of based on historical events. Aren't you laughing? The germans would stand up and cheer such a film. Actually, the theater I went to in Venice was dead silent. I felt bad for the three old women, whose husbands no doubt had survived this war IN REAL LIFE. Their sacrifices, the food drives, the rationing, the tears, the gold stars, the flag draped coffins, all of it overlooked for scalping psychopathic Americans and an ending that never happened.
disgusting. that is all I have to say. just a revolting piece of cinema. Tarantino was so happy he found the multilinguist Christopher Waltz. Unfortunately, the words he says and the words I had to read in English WERE UTTERLY COMMON AND UNJUSTIFIABLE. He betrays his country...why? For the same reason Shoshanna feels remorse after shooting Zoller. Wait, I will refrain from examining the story flaws BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE MORE WORK THAN THE WRITER AND PRODUCER BOTHERED WITH.
Tarantino must have had Weinstein's cock so deep in his ass at that point in the script development meeting that they figured no one in America would care if the story made no sense. Lets just break it into 5 or 6 chapters and that way the audience will think it is something we planned. Ha. A little kid could tell there was no planning. This linear piece of toilet paper had one purpose...get people work making wardrobes...kill every german a'la Spike Lee in a pointless eruption of violence...then end the film with a line like
"This might just be my masterpiece"
Really? Will Brad Pitt go home to a 1944 post war country with rocket jets and laser beams? What about Ted Williams? Did he need to risk his life in the Pacific front? Or...wait a second...the pacific front didn't exist in this flick. How convenient. Unfortunately, the same audience member who forgot there was a battle fought over Japan, isn't the kind of person to read a short novel (subtitles) while listening to french and italian conversation and eating popcorn. A detail that highlights one meaningless scenario is how Americans show the number three on their hands (with the index, middle and ring fingers) compared to how Germans do (with their thumb, index and middle). Give some extra butter popcorn to the research intern who found that factoid out for Tarantino because the whole plot ends up unraveling because of this one detail. Now, this detail may or may not be true but it is presented as though Tarantino has thoroughly researched this era and his film's veracity can not be questioned...except for that minor part where a mythical bunch of savage hillbillys kill hitler and his crew in a theater. Oops, we got that part wrong...but the three fingers thing, that's absolutely TRUE, by god! Just insane...
Anyway, please see this movie so Tarantino will make enough money to buy a proper prostitute and stop fucking Weinstein, who bankrolls this trash. Really, Harvey should have his Jew license revoked for backing this. It's a slap in the face of everyone who has a number stamped on their arm and anyone whose grave has a flag over it... on BOTH sides of the gun. And I'm a dirty communist loving hippie! That's how bad this movie is: It made me love America again.
Int. Hitler's War Room
HITLER: These jews are evil! I hate all jews. All jews must die!
Hitler pounds table. His assistants look scared.
HITLER: Germans are superior and all jews must die.
C.U. Hitler's sweating and feverishly passionate eyes.
Smash Cut to: Ext. Field. Hero and his men march stoically over a pile of dead Germans.
I would write in red pen in the margins... "Unless you are personally sucking Harvey Weinstein's circumcised Jewish penis, or your name is Donald Trump, then this will never be produced."
Well, guess what Quentin Tarantino does in his spare time...when Kevin Smith isn't reaming Harvey's bum hole?
Inglorious Basterds....what a complete disaster. Only someone closely associated with Harvey's colon could possibly get him to bankroll this train wreck. $70 million dollars to rewrite history, diminish the accomplishments of every veteran, including Teddy Ballgame Williams who REALLY DID FIGHT IN WWII AND ACTUALLY HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH THE OUTCOME...unlike every character or representation in this movie.
Embarassingly slow footed, (I read more subtitles than in Apocalypto) ugly, pointless camera work, amateur acting, frivolous, useless, sacrilegious, atrocious.
I went into this with such low expectations (after the abysmal Death Proof) that I thought there was no way I could be disappointed. Alas, I shook my head often and vigorously.
Fundamentally, what is the fucking point of inventing a group of jewish assassins to kill Hitler, whose real life suicide is much more fitting a coward? There is no point. It is the choice of a guy writing in his office when he should be making copies, or the choice of someone who can get Brad Pitt to speak with a southern accent. Either way, the storytelling was abandoned in favor of what amounts to a gag.
Int. Studio Lot office.
Tarantino: "How funny would it be for these guys to kill Hitler?"
Harvey Weinstein: Funny as hell. Now keep sucking my cock.
Yep, about as funny as having the Germans make a movie where they kill Roosevelt and fuck Winston Churchill in the ass while Margaret Thatcher watches dressed in leather and atomic bombs detonate over New York. Ha ha. How funny would that be? It's like pulp fiction except sort of based on historical events. Aren't you laughing? The germans would stand up and cheer such a film. Actually, the theater I went to in Venice was dead silent. I felt bad for the three old women, whose husbands no doubt had survived this war IN REAL LIFE. Their sacrifices, the food drives, the rationing, the tears, the gold stars, the flag draped coffins, all of it overlooked for scalping psychopathic Americans and an ending that never happened.
disgusting. that is all I have to say. just a revolting piece of cinema. Tarantino was so happy he found the multilinguist Christopher Waltz. Unfortunately, the words he says and the words I had to read in English WERE UTTERLY COMMON AND UNJUSTIFIABLE. He betrays his country...why? For the same reason Shoshanna feels remorse after shooting Zoller. Wait, I will refrain from examining the story flaws BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE MORE WORK THAN THE WRITER AND PRODUCER BOTHERED WITH.
Tarantino must have had Weinstein's cock so deep in his ass at that point in the script development meeting that they figured no one in America would care if the story made no sense. Lets just break it into 5 or 6 chapters and that way the audience will think it is something we planned. Ha. A little kid could tell there was no planning. This linear piece of toilet paper had one purpose...get people work making wardrobes...kill every german a'la Spike Lee in a pointless eruption of violence...then end the film with a line like
"This might just be my masterpiece"
Really? Will Brad Pitt go home to a 1944 post war country with rocket jets and laser beams? What about Ted Williams? Did he need to risk his life in the Pacific front? Or...wait a second...the pacific front didn't exist in this flick. How convenient. Unfortunately, the same audience member who forgot there was a battle fought over Japan, isn't the kind of person to read a short novel (subtitles) while listening to french and italian conversation and eating popcorn. A detail that highlights one meaningless scenario is how Americans show the number three on their hands (with the index, middle and ring fingers) compared to how Germans do (with their thumb, index and middle). Give some extra butter popcorn to the research intern who found that factoid out for Tarantino because the whole plot ends up unraveling because of this one detail. Now, this detail may or may not be true but it is presented as though Tarantino has thoroughly researched this era and his film's veracity can not be questioned...except for that minor part where a mythical bunch of savage hillbillys kill hitler and his crew in a theater. Oops, we got that part wrong...but the three fingers thing, that's absolutely TRUE, by god! Just insane...
Anyway, please see this movie so Tarantino will make enough money to buy a proper prostitute and stop fucking Weinstein, who bankrolls this trash. Really, Harvey should have his Jew license revoked for backing this. It's a slap in the face of everyone who has a number stamped on their arm and anyone whose grave has a flag over it... on BOTH sides of the gun. And I'm a dirty communist loving hippie! That's how bad this movie is: It made me love America again.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
my ride share ad. would you call?
I've got a 1/2 ton cargo van that is aimed in the direction of Newfoundland or New England. If you take care of the gas I will let you put anything you want in the van and I'll take care of the maintenance of the van. Lots of room for cargo and boxes and people. departure date depends on when I can collect enough dough to cross the country. possible stops in St. Louis. Albuquerque. Denver. Pennsylvania. Boston. Flagstaff. Las vegas. cincinnati. cleveland. new york. Tulsa. Wichita. it is all flexible though the purpose of my trip is to be in Newfoundland in the fall foliage season...so that means I must leave the west coast by mid september, dig? I am ready to leave asap but you've got to have some money and a sense of adventure. IF you want a "normal" person to drive with then keep looking...I resolved long ago that being normal meant I was just taking up space on the planet. I'm not normal...I don't like normalcy...I revile normalcy...I am abnormal. For the 2008 presidential election I wrote in Noam Chomsky. What an asshole I am. They ought to lock me up.
The cheapest way to travel is Greyhound or hitchhiking. The fastest way is by plane. The coolest way is in my van.
I estimate this trip all the way to the east coast will cost $1000 in gas. If I can split that three ways then that would be perfect. We can camp in the van or on the side of the road if you want to save money.
The van will fit a motorcycle so if we can get it in then I'll transport it to wherever you want. pets ok.
call mark
310-425-XXXX
This trip will go through Dallas or colorado or utah or possibly montana and then St. Louis. Recently I decided that this trip will be for a cause. The cause is the arctic wolf. These solitary animals are threatened by just about everything mankind is doing. especially since they survive in the arctic by moving around on ice flows. these ice flows are all melting and so push the wolf out of the arctic. I think the iphone best represents the enemy of the wolf so this trip will be to highlight the dangers and effects of this invention and how it is killing the arctic wolf. The trip may be filmed for a documentary so be prepared to sign a waiver.
P.S. Hannah Montana is involved but when I start to explain how then people begin to back slowly away from me. I don't know why. It is so obvious to me how she is connected to the deterioration of the world. But I thought I would mention it as part of my full disclosure policy.
The cheapest way to travel is Greyhound or hitchhiking. The fastest way is by plane. The coolest way is in my van.
I estimate this trip all the way to the east coast will cost $1000 in gas. If I can split that three ways then that would be perfect. We can camp in the van or on the side of the road if you want to save money.
The van will fit a motorcycle so if we can get it in then I'll transport it to wherever you want. pets ok.
call mark
310-425-XXXX
This trip will go through Dallas or colorado or utah or possibly montana and then St. Louis. Recently I decided that this trip will be for a cause. The cause is the arctic wolf. These solitary animals are threatened by just about everything mankind is doing. especially since they survive in the arctic by moving around on ice flows. these ice flows are all melting and so push the wolf out of the arctic. I think the iphone best represents the enemy of the wolf so this trip will be to highlight the dangers and effects of this invention and how it is killing the arctic wolf. The trip may be filmed for a documentary so be prepared to sign a waiver.
P.S. Hannah Montana is involved but when I start to explain how then people begin to back slowly away from me. I don't know why. It is so obvious to me how she is connected to the deterioration of the world. But I thought I would mention it as part of my full disclosure policy.
Petition to change the world. Sign Today!
We the undersigned believe the iphone and Hannah Montana to be purely destructive elements, culturally and environmentally, and thus resolve to refrain from buying any iphone related items or anything associated with Hannah Montana AKA The Whore of Disneyland. We do this in the belief that the dissolution of the iphone and Hannah Montana will lead to a world in which the arctic wolf stands a chance of surviving.
THIS:
AND THIS:
OR THIS:
They literally can not coexist.
Take a side...sign today and change the world.
THIS:
AND THIS:
OR THIS:
They literally can not coexist.
Take a side...sign today and change the world.
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