Secret Simon

Commence Teleportation

2010-12-08T23:30:00.004-05:00

Hey kids,

If you happen to still be throwing stones at the windows or drawing on the walls... I'm over here now:

http://www.signalite.tumblr.com

Love,
Alden

Hello old friend

2010-03-31T21:26:00.001-04:00

Oh, what to do with a secret simon when simon isn't so secret anymore. It is a puzzlement!

Alden's School Daze Episode 3

2009-10-29T22:32:00.000-04:00

Alden's School Daze Episode 2

2009-10-27T23:05:00.000-04:00

Alden's School Daze Episode 1

2009-10-27T08:01:00.001-04:00

Alden's School Daze Episode 0

2009-10-25T21:58:00.001-04:00

The Astonishing Four Eyed Superior

2009-02-24T22:23:00.003-05:00

I can dig it.

Made at the Hero Factory.

12 of 12 ~ September '08 Edition

2008-09-13T00:41:00.003-04:00

Ok people, here's the deal. I'm busy. And I'm tired. I'm so tired that I can't sleep. I feel bloated, most of my appendages are at risk of collapse, and I'm pretty sure there's a pus volcano forming near my left nostril. It could possibly just be that time of the month. Or year.

Does someone have a doll wearing dark rimmed glasses and lots of tiny needles nearby? If so, KNOCK IT OFF.

Regardless, since I'm not quite dead yet, here's 12 photos because it's the 12th of the month:

07:28:34 - A Few Minutes Until Departure

Which means there's plenty of time to build the ship.

07:29:47 - Shlincky

SHmwwoooooshumm.

07:41:10 - Fridge Mantra: SLUG DIB

08:10:21 - No Left Turn

At this precise moment Sara Palin was being overanalyzed on the radio, making several people gloat with hysterical glee and several other people break out in hives (and reach for the rash cream).

08:24:18 - Treasure Box

Breakfast don't gotta be complicated.

08:25:13 - Hoop Daze

Waiting for my acai smoothy with the morning crowd of two at Jamba Juice. No worries, bud. I can't hula hoop either.

08:51:02 - My Desk, My Life.

EgAdZ.

14:37:48 - The Walker

Salvaged detail of a cardboard mural.

16:48:57 - SMOKED

I finally finish eating lunch around 4:30. I also find myself putting hot sauce on almost everything I can get away with now. I'm not sure but I think it makes me southern? Or old?

20:15:29 - The Last To Leave

It's true. I work too late.

21:10:52 - Full House

Bookshelf at home, desk at work, it doesn't matter. I come home stare at these intending to become cultured, or at least briefly entertained, and then go to bed in defeat.

21:57:03
Slippery Street

This road is much busier than I ever imagined it would be. Don't let your dogs or children out without a leash.

Bonus Photo - Homemade Droids

Their names are Beetle and Harley. They are looking for Emeralds. Their captain is Captain Roboto. Their ship is shy and is always hiding under things. I didn't make any of this up. A monkey told me so.

See the rest of the world in play at Chad Darnell's 12 of 12.

The Art of Time Travel

2008-07-27T23:23:00.000-04:00

I've been far, far away and after ten days on the other side of the country, I'm having some difficulties forcing myself to go to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight.

The initial shift to the west coast was not jarring one bit, I seem to have been living on California time all the while living in Florida.

As such I do not feel it is important to go to work tomorrow, not because I don't want to go but instead I have more important things to do. Like upload gigabytes worth of photographic evidence.

More ruminations to follow when I've wrapped my head around it all.

12 of 12: July '08 Edition

2008-07-13T08:57:00.003-04:00

07:19:09

Premonition.

07:21:05

Magical Fridge Mantra: GUD MOJO.

07:39:27

I have not erased my white board of to do things since at least 2004.

08:58:10

Yes, I did have the last piece of apple pie for breakfast. And then?

10:05:49

The prospectors did not find gold with that there fancy machine-that-goes-ping, but rather this artifact. And a piece of rusted rock resembling ancient poop. It's now begin examined by experts to see if the Power of Grayskull can be extracted.

10:25:18

An early parting of ways for the day.

11:26:49

As opposed to earlier, there's an E-VIL MOJO in this stack somewheres. You see, it's not laziness that keeps me from cleaning, it's fear of what may be unleashed.

13:54:00

Words to live by from the back of a rusty bumper: "Late Is Eternal - Know Where You're Going When You Go" Oh wait, my bad, that's LIFE. I totally like my version better.

14:11:11

Protoman versus the Kiwi.

15:19:10

Hay U, teeny urflink, U give me ploom I no imvade your pewnee planet.

20:13:24

To end the evening, we went to see about a man with a very large organ. After being prodded with pizza the younger monkey finally removed his hands from his ears and kept the roller coaster yells to an infrequent "NARF."

20:31:46

It was unfortunate when the short flapper dressed all in green sequins, garland & fringe asked me if I got many good pictures, as I replied no since my batteries had run out of juice, and therefore could not capture her yanking unsuspecting 80 year old men from their seats to get jiggy. But I had just enough to catch her disappear back to the Emerald City.

If you aren't sure what this is it's twelve pictures on the twelfth day of the month, every month, part of Chad Darnell's "12 of 12" project. Go, see, play next time.

11:25:49 - BONUS!

Me and a banana. Because, why not?

Saturday Afternoon Sketch: 20080712

2008-07-12T18:26:00.002-04:00

Attention! You can get this sketch along with all others drawn from July 1st 'til July 15th, by donating to help Matt raise funds for the Chicago Marathon. Click here for details on how you can score a set and help a good cause: Run, Matt, Run!

Saturday Night Sketch: 20080705

2008-07-05T23:59:00.000-04:00

Don't Forget! You can get this sketch along with all others drawn 'til July 15th, by donating to help Matt raise funds for the Chicago Marathon. Click here for details on how you can score a set and help a good cause: Run, Matt, Run!

Friday Evening Sketch: 20080704

2008-07-04T23:32:00.002-04:00

Since I needed something to distract me as everyone was blowing up the neighborhood...

Remember! You can get this sketch along with all others drawn 'til July 15th, by donating to help Matt raise funds for the Chicago Marathon. Click here for details on how you can score a set and help a good cause: Run, Matt, Run!

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080702

2008-07-02T18:54:00.002-04:00

Remember! You can get a set of all sketches drawn 'til July 15th, by donating to help Matt raise funds for the Chicago Marathon. Click here for details on how you can score a set and help a good cause: Run, Matt, Run!

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080701

2008-07-01T18:42:00.004-04:00

Run, Matt, Run!

2008-06-30T14:17:00.011-04:00

Okay so, pay attention, boys and girls.

My buddy Matt is going to be running in the Chicago Marathon. Since Matt is not in the habit of running marathons (and really, who is?), he's participating in the National AIDS Marathon Training Program. This ensures that Matt does not keel over from exhaustion, dehydration or other random obstacles like flying monkeys.

I find this to be highly admirable. Thing is, Matt also needs to raise a bit o' money to participate in this endeavor by July 15th. I've also been inspired to do something with my art lately for the forces of good, which is where you and I come in.

I'll be doing a mini-marathon of my own from July 1st - 15th, where all the sketches that I draw will be printed as a limited edition postcard set, hand signed and numbered. Donate $40 to Matt's run and you score a set for yourself. Easy, right?

Just follow these simple steps to help out:

1. First and most important, make a donation of at least $40 or more by going here. (One postcard set per donation.)

2. Then, send an email to okaysoradio@gmail.com with your name, the amount you donated and your shipping address (so that we know you want a set and how to get it to you) .

3. A few weeks after July 15th you should get a set of your very own to admire, send to friends or swat away flying monkeys. You'll also get for free, our humblest gratitude.

4. Much like when my younger son played in a baseball league on a giant rubber field, "Everybody wins!"

Remember that you can see these sketches drawn live (mostly) everyday on ustream.tv during lunchtime (which is around 1 PM EST). There will be around twenty total so be on the lookout for a few live shows in the evening as well!

Don't let me down, wonderful internet people! (Because you know I have access to flying monkeys...)

UPDATE: See all the sketches so far:

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080627

2008-06-27T15:48:00.001-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080626

2008-06-26T15:59:00.000-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080625

2008-06-25T14:38:00.002-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080619

2008-06-19T17:23:00.001-04:00

Sunday Night Sketch: Father's Day Edition

2008-06-15T23:26:00.001-04:00

Every year since 2005 (which you can find the birth of here if you look for it) I've been making a "Songs for Dad" mix CD. Here's the cover for this year's, done lovingly and appropriately, in the last minutes of father's day as he sketched things out on his guitar:

This year was a team up with sis, as she was having the same epiphany. So we ended up with a double disc dad-a-polooza. My offerings have become far more.. daring shall I say? And my sis offers up the hidden gems only she can unearth.

And as to my own darling fruits of my loins?

Well, let's see. Last night as all were settled in bed and listening to the evenings story, without warning or provocation the younger monkey decided to stand up on the couch, and with a zeal only glimpsed upon previously, proclaimed "LET'S GET NAKED!" At which point he removed his underwear and flung it across the room. I have never seen anyone revel in this accomplishment that much. Ever. As he paraded his glory out for all to behold, I also couldn't get clothes or sense into him for the next five minutes. Elder monkey was not much help as he was hysterically rolling on the floor with giggles.

Standard protocol, really.

12 of 12 ~ June '08 Edition

2008-06-12T23:00:00.000-04:00

A rainy summer day, in accordance with the task set forth by Chad Darnell to document 12 pictures on the 12th day of the month. Isn't that swell?

08:17:07

Essential components in the appropriate compartment (of my vehicle).

13:06:40

I don't know where she came from, although I may have known her former master, but she appeared on top of my computer one day and never left.

13:08:54

The greeter. And we'll take all the luck we can get.

13:32:52

Usually, I'm in the process of looking for what's right in front of me.

13:35:28

From the desk of El Scooby. Don't you touch my banana!

13:41:11

"She'll order something called.. a salad. And he'll get a big piece o' meat. And well, ladies and gentlemen, I don't know if it's love..."

18:56:37

At some point the elder monkey's hair turned blue. But really it was more like Joker Green. When asked about a shade of purple for his own, younger monkey replied "No! I don't like it!"

19:12:30

How it's done proper.

19:19:41

The rains came down and out came all the little suns from their hiding places.

19:58:54

Plastic and glass don't rust (the way nails do).

19:59:28

The vast expanse of one's window sill is enough for at least a trail or two.

21:48:16

Hands, feet, up, down, shoulders? Must work. Banishment to the bouncy bed.

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080602

2008-06-02T15:37:00.004-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080529

2008-05-29T14:08:00.005-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080527

2008-05-27T15:44:00.001-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080523

2008-05-23T13:25:00.006-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080520

2008-05-20T15:29:00.002-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080519

2008-05-19T14:35:00.001-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080514

2008-05-14T14:17:00.001-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080513

2008-05-13T18:46:00.001-04:00

12 of 12 ~ May '08 Edition

2008-05-12T23:30:00.002-04:00

07:48:42

The bus is on time, which means I am running behind schedule. (Run, monkey, run!)

08:11:58

Suddenly, the route to work unexpectedly passed through the portal of oaks that emerges out of nowhere and then seemingly disappears again.

08:58:46

The postage for a letter rises one cent today to finally reach the number that is the secret to life the universe and everything. It has no excuse to go up any longer.

10:27:20

Oh, right, grub. I'm quite sure I've taken this photo already, but you can never have too many of one stuffing their faces.

13:07:08

Trying to get into a new habit. Everyday for lunch I draw instead of eat. It's nourishment of a different kind.

21:07:36

Box No. 10 was glad to take the required funds.

21:08:02

And then suddenly a dolphin flew overhead out of nowhere. They tend to do that in Florida.

21:23:25

Content blue stockings dwell here.

21:27:08

Tired and hungry, the four friends sleep deeply to recharge for the next days' quest.

21:40:31

There's a UFO in my kitchen. See.

21:44:03

Mom's sprouts are growing beyond all expectations. I thought perhaps it was the ice maker in the fridge making strange noises in the middle of the night. Now I realize the alfalfa is plotting.

21:50:58

To my horror, the giant mushroom spewed spores that ravaged the minds of my faithful followers. And then they killed me. There's not much to be done against a raging herd of zombie pikmin.

Be sure to go to Chad Darnell's blog to see all the other people around the world taking 12 pictures on the 12th of every month. And play if you can. There's always time to play.

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080512

2008-05-12T16:23:00.002-04:00

It must have been something he ate.

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080510

2008-05-10T14:22:00.000-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch: 20080509

2008-05-09T14:10:00.003-04:00

Lunchbox Sketch

2008-05-08T14:03:00.003-04:00

I'm going to try and do some live sketching everyday at lunch on ustream.tv around 1PM EST.

This forces me to take a break and NOT think about work for an hour.

It seems we have a big scary fish on the menu today. I don't like seafood but there it is.

UPDATE: Or a screaming blue cow. Whichever you prefer.

And So It Was Written

2008-05-01T22:33:00.005-04:00

Somehow I haven't written a scrap of a word here in the month of April. For that matter March was a lost cause as well.

Since March had at least a sporting chance, I'll blame April. April ate all my words. Bad, April, bad. Come on now, spit them back out. All of them. Don't make me use my "I mean it or else..." voice.

Yes, even the one's you've got hidden in your cheeks that you are saving for later.

Now go to bed and don't come back for another 11 months. What AM I going to do with that darn April. So uppity, so full of... I see you! To bed. NOW.

Okay, fine you can have a glass of water first.

If you'll excuse me I must give all these words a good scrubbing down by the river and hang them out to dry for a while. Hopefully they still fit.

Sketch o' the Day ~ Voyage of the Smog Trudger

2008-03-01T21:44:00.013-05:00

Click to enlarge.
Progress:

Shortly after the navigator was thrown overboard for mumbling about their fearless leader reeking of 500 year old sea serpent poodoo, the young recruit began to reconsider his career options when Momar the Fabulous Pygmy Warlord then decided to take the "shortcut" through the boiling Sea of Blorffengurving.

12 of 12: Feb '08 Edition

2008-02-12T23:50:00.001-05:00

As part of Chad Darnell's ongoing 12 of 12 project, here are twelve pictures on the twelfth day of the month. Wee!

The new usual: Oatmeal with raisins, banana and honey, yogurt and three eggs.

This way to work. Bring your helmet.

Up high in the sky. Or maybe just over my desk.

The dictionary can't make up it's mind whether it's inbetween, in-between or in between.

Inspector 99 is on the case. Doesn't that make you feel better?

Someday, I may partake of the baklava at the café. But not today.

There are tornado warnings afoot. On the lookout for cackling women on bicycles.

The usual suspects greet me at home.

My nicest shoes. They are scruffy, comfortable and paint splotched. Otherwise they wouldn't be my shoes.

Dinner is the supreme delicacy of peanut butter and strawberry preserves.

Sweet potato explosion, in your face! And on the floor, the walls...

The only palm tree residing near my abode. What mysterious power does this emblem hold? Besides roaches?

Sketch o' the Day ~ IN PROGRESS

2008-02-11T21:36:00.001-05:00

...But not here. Go to Mikeypod to see my live sketching happening for the next few hours. I'll post the finished result here as well when it's all done with.

Sketch o' the Day ~ The Frog's Prince

2008-01-23T21:00:00.000-05:00

Click to see bigger.
Progress:

After the imposter had squandered the last of his wishes, the unassuming, ancient mage delighted himself with home brewed swamp magic.

5 Minute Car Trip

2008-01-17T23:24:00.000-05:00

Wanting What You've Got

2008-01-17T18:04:00.000-05:00

Here's the stuff that meme's are made of:

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first article title on the page is the name of your band.

2. http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four words of the very last quote is the title of your album.

3. http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/
The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

Squish them all together like a sandwich, post it, and you've got an instant hit single from a band that never was. (But perhaps in fact one day might be!)

Found via This Boy Elroy & Gooster.

12 of 12: Jan '08 Edition

2008-01-12T23:00:00.000-05:00

This marks the beginning of the third year for Chad Darnell's 12 of 12 Project. Please go and look and love and play along next month.

Pizza for breakfast. On a bagel of course. So that you can have pizza anytime. UPDATE: This is stuck on loop in my head.

It was upon further inspection that the headless man was 30% off on clearance.

Um. Exschuze me? Is that One-bacca or Chewbacca in this picture?

...We've been over this. Do you really think I'm suicidal enough to buy you something called Ginseng Energy Infusion?

Today has been brought to you by an unexpected new camera. Used by a man wearing unexpected new sunglasses. His people know how to treat him right.

A reading of the world's words.

An origami afternoon.

How you doin'?

Younger Monkey now in the compact travel size.

Some techniques simply aren't in Mama Fu's guide to chopstick etiquette. Just don't stick them straight up in your rice bowl.

Lightsaber practice is best after nightfall.

The best way to end a day.

3 is The Magic Number

2008-01-09T22:46:00.000-05:00

Secret Simon is three years old today. Remarkably, I have not yet snuffed it.

A Table of Contents

2008-01-03T21:59:00.000-05:00

My grandpa, who was 90 years of age, passed away today.

That means he was 60 when I was born and he knew me for a third of his lifespan. Although the evidence that was laid out before us on the cafeteria table proved that I did not know him well at all.

There before us, were the contents of his wallet. We had disassembled it carefully to find all the necessary items, a bright collage of medical contacts, credit cards, and photographs. Among all this was a piece of cardboard containing a small notch cut out, a space big enough so that his failing eyes and fingers could write his name out in a contained fashion. My uncle decided to take these for his own ailing writing abilities.

No one cared to claim the carefully folded 5 and 1 dollar bills.

I took the opportunity to investigate the card of a woman with an area telephone code that had changed long ago. She was no longer the contact but more than likely the one who sold him the Simplicity Plan: cremation, all paid in advance, although no memorial service arrangements, which will be discussed tomorrow morning upon our meeting with them. The lady I did talk to was coincidentally about to give my uncle a call. Sitting right next to me, he has never and never will use a cell phone, and so I gladly made all the connections.

After all these things were removed, and all the information extracted and parsed, mom looked at the leather container with it's empty pockets, and began one of many instances of not being able to talk.

When we had arrived at the hospital earlier, my uncle appeared in the door on the second floor and led us down the hall where I saw him for about 30 seconds, in a brightly lit room. The static of apparatuses were still filling the air but it was clear that their functions had come to an end.

And so, as it had earlier in the day, the shaking resumed it's course. Mom's heartbeat raced to an odd more desperate meter all it's own. Voices trembled, hands rumbled, eyes glistened as if they were no longer solid forms in the head but bags of liquid, taut and weak and ready to melt away.

I kept waiting for it to hit me, as it had my sister, so far away from here. As it did my uncle, the trembling giant in blue plaid. As it did my for grandpa's lady, who was not his wife, but in every sense was more so than many married couples I can recall. As it did for her, who had heard all the machines began to beep and whir, assuming the worst and causing us to think he had expired earlier in the day.

The time, of course, did not matter.

But the feeling of sadness never arrived. In it's place, where others found distress, I found solace in that perfect distillation of a moment where he lay. I was at ease to find him finally at ease.

What Day Is It? (Can You Please Tell Me)

2008-01-02T22:00:00.000-05:00

The cold air swirling around suddenly took a gusty nose dive last evening and hasn't stopped yet.

Back to the grind, since yesterday's Tuesday felt like the new Sunday, today's Wednesday was totally the new Monday. Which means hopefully by next Saturday I'll be completely off and it'll actually be mid-July sometime. Maybe by next July I'll have the inventory straightened out at work.

It took concerted effort to write out the date correctly all day. Luckily, I learned you can split 12 into 1/2 and I can disguise an 07 as 08 with some cursive-ness, but tomorrow I must get with it or I shall be screwed.

I found a new site (thanks to eavesdropping on justinfeed and thisboyelroy) called Gyminee. I'm not sure what I expect out of working out these days, so I am hoping this will give me a little focus. Suffice to say it is a schizophrenic beast to tame and I can use all the help I can get. If anyone wants to come down here and stand on my head while I do pushups, please be my guest.

Mom seems to be fairing okay today, regardless of what she may say. She does go from complete logic to tears in an instant, but it's not out of control. No change in grandpa, but she spent the day discussing arrangements for a memorial.

Luckily for her, I am an endless source of amusement in all of my constant scatterbrained mess that I gravitate towards. I'm kind of like a malfunctioning katamari ball. My brand of clean is where the socks never match but at least they are in the same drawer. If they make it to the drawer. My room is a perfectly organized version of disorderly stacks, that occasionally fall over when they get too high or whenever someone tries to get out of bed, whichever comes first.

In fact I may need to put some more socks on right now. Meanwhile, I am on day three of onion soup because it now really is soup weather. I can only imagine if it's actually cold here what it's like for the rest of the country. Stay warm, darlings.

All is Quiet

2008-01-01T20:03:00.000-05:00

Welcome to 2008.

The weather today has finally emerged from the sluggish fog into clearer, zippy chills.

I awoke with the boyfriend and we were snugly until ten. We rarely get to sleep in together. One of us is always off to other required things; work, monkeys, moms etc. We drove around for a while and ended up at Cracker Barrel. I realize that I must be very much infatuated and agreeable with the man, because I'm not particularly fond of Cracker Barrel and we ended up in the same place last year on New Years Day. Like a proper fallen vegetarian, I got the meatloaf, potatoes and fried okra.

Afterwards he had a bug to buy some new games. I can't remember what all he got as I was concentrated on the Wii demo in the store. I haven't actually seen one in real life yet so I took the opportunity to try out Super Mario Galaxy. After feeling extremely uncoordinated and old, it then broke, which is why I suspect I never see one on demo.

We continued on to the citrus store down the street, a triumph of Florida tourism if ever there was one. Here in this warehouse, next to where actual oranges and other fruits of paradise once grew, you can see how they were washed and waxed and ready for their close-ups.

The warehouse is now populated by a display featuring shiny plastic mannequin workers with thousands of plastic orange balls which I can only assume are washed with plastic water. But only after everyone has gone home and you say the magic words "hocus pocus alimagocus!"

Today's Special is: Oranges.

After we came home, we drank tangerine juice and I kissed him goodbye for the evening.

The chill has now crept into the house so I'm eating leftover onion soup the boyfriend made yesterday. Mom is sitting here watching her slug TV, as she calls it, keeping me apprised on the status of the $76,000 kitchen and wondering if I'm going to be putting away the lonely piece of bread I left on the kitchen counter. It's what she does.

Her dad, my grandpa, is in the hospital with pneumonia. It didn't start out that way two weeks ago, but it seems to happen with a lot of elderly folks. They'll go in for some pain or another, and then "tests" stir things up. He's now down to life support with a DNR order. It's probably as it should be.

I kept wondering if he'd go last night in some moment of poetic coincidence, passing along with the year that had now expired. This morning showed no change. A new day dawning is just another day no matter the date attached. I don't know if I'll see him again as I expect it won't be long now. I do hope all is quiet for him soon.

I'll always remember that my grandpa told me, when he gave me my orange tree as a sapling, that the cold snaps are good for the oranges. I fear it's a little too late for my already ripened crop this year. The majority of them on the tree went from green straight to brownish. I did manage to gather some and they are still tasty.

PooDoo, Revisited

2007-12-29T22:55:00.000-05:00

On Christmas Eve, I popped in Animal Crossing on the trusty GameCube for the first time in 41 months.

I know it's been this long because when you talk to the residents of our town, which we named PooDoo, they are either shocked, delighted or appalled that I haven't been around for 41 months. In the mean time, weeds have overgrown, mail has jammed up the post office, I've forgotten who I was supposed to be delivering the comic book to, and many neighbors have either moved out, starved to death or committed seppuku. And the roaches have come. Many of them. My fishing rod has also mysteriously vanished. One can only speculate.

Alas, disaster has befallen our sister town of Oz, which was residing on another memory card (each sold separately!), but reported as corrupt when trying to get there by train. I can assume that means inner political turmoil or some such mess.

Some things are the same as sweet Daisy is still there, as is Twiggy and Liz, and all the resident felines Kitty, Punchy, and Bangle. Ed and Tom are still in town and they were conspicuously not at home at the same time. I always suspected one or the other was hitting on me. So it's highly suspect that perhaps they found love or at least a hook up. I mean, one of them is literally a horse.

Not surprisingly, I've still never paid off my house (in the game or otherwise). I should have known better than to get a loan from a Tanuki. If only I could sell my junk in real life I'd be set. It's been so long that my then wife was playing, paid off her house, had time to start another game, paid off that house and was still writing me love notes. She always did beat me at all video games.

What have I been doing lately in the real world? Oh, that's not really all that important. I also can't remember exactly. But then that's what twitter is for, right?

I may have left some Negative Nancy comments on a blog or two and I apologize if that was yours in my wake. I'm realizing now that I need to go into social hibernation during the holidays, at least on the internet, instead of trying to pretend to like it. It just makes me ranty and/or depressed. Some years are better than others. And there's just no soothing ointment good for that kind of irritation. But moving on, as I have tried to...

Monkeys have discovered the game and since it's all reading, I say, score! However, I do have to restrain the Elder Monkey from wildly cutting down all the trees in sight. Give a boy a golden axe and suddenly he's Paul Bunyan.

Oh and just an FYI, I expect we'll be occupied at 8 o'clock PM for quite a few Saturday evenings to come listening to the complete K.K. Slider repertoire.

Food Fight

2007-11-10T13:40:00.000-05:00

Where exactly was life before YouTube.

I was going to wait and send this around on Turkey Day along with in depth commentary about the evils of suburban over-consumption and the general modern era lack of respect for the food chain.

However, I'm going to forego all that as instead I've watched it 20 times in a row and I'm at the point where I need an inhaler to breathe because I've laughed so hard. Vegetarian's might want to ~~take a deep breath first~~ avert their eyes elsewhere.

Bascially, I blame mom (mom's edit: It's not my fault!), for pointing it out to me, having nothing better to do than watch HGTV all day, every day. We'll get into her remodeling plans later for my house (mom's edit: Oh, do I have plans for this house!).

But, wait! Bonus features!

Firstly, I'm sure many of you wouldn't mind being the turkey in this scenario.

Also, it would be remiss not point out the oddity of top hit "Women's Sumo Wrestling" in the Related Videos section.

(mom's edit: Aren't you done yet? I need to go to the grocery store! No turkeys on the menu.)

Candymen

2007-11-01T23:23:00.000-04:00

Somehow, it's November. Time to crack some knuckles and take some names.

I have no idea what that means but I'll probably never get a chance to use it in real life so I'm getting it out of the way now.

I would have pictures to show you of the Halloweenies of yesterday but my camera is broke. So we'll just have to pretend (which is rather appropriate).

Elder Monkey was a Wolverine, complete with claws that kept getting in the way and mask that was way too itchy. Also the night before he realized he actually wanted to be Elvis. We thought perhaps if you combine the two he'd be going as Wolvis. Or Elverine. Or, basically, Hugh Jackman. And his catch phrase would be "Uh-huh, thank-ya-very-much, Bub." Snikt.

Younger Monkey was a Buzz Lightyear, for the second time, only it was a full-fledged outfit complete with inflatable jetpack with wings. Now that he is an uber-social (super)butterfly, he also feels the need to announce his presence at every door when knocking. Because not only does he want your treat, but also if he can come into your home, watch TV, be your best friend or ask the nice Filipino man across the street if he knows any Spanish. And then knock you over unintentionally with his inflatable purple wings.

Oh and his "helmet" made him look like Patsy.

Generally I write off Halloween and I do not dress up. Although Elder Monkey had to make the suggestion that I should be 007. Leave it to him to think of the one guise I would totally get into. We shall see.

Wanted: Hot Straight Boyfriend

2007-10-30T22:57:00.000-04:00

Not for me, silly. For my ex-wife.

I'm totally serious.

But they would need to go through me first for some training and verification of orientation. Because otherwise someone needs to love that woman the way that, um, apparently only a gay man can.

Example: When on a date and she asks if you like the shirt she is wearing, do not answer with "Do you like the shirt you are wearing?" And when she says "Not really." do not at that point say "Well, there you go then."

Especially when I already told her she looked fine in the shirt she was wearing.

This will only send her home, forlorn looking, put her head on my shoulder and then promptly renew her Netflix account to resign her to watching things like Evan Almighty and Donnie Brasco back to back.

You Probably Had To Be There

2007-10-14T22:00:00.000-04:00

Sitting on the green on a Saturday twilight while the orchestra plays to the breeze.

Me: Massaging C's shoulders. Deeply.

C: Gives F the thumbs up.

F: Sigh (half wistful, half annoyed). I wish I had someone to massage me.

C: G isn't looking very busy over there.

G: I'm actually doing my Kegel's at the moment.

Orchestra: Cue the 1812 Overture with fireworks.

Day Off Not Off Day

2007-09-27T12:00:00.000-04:00

All the recent cleaning and hacking and expulsion of mold particles caught up with me yesterday when I woke up so I decided to take the day off work and proceeded to do absolutely nothing.

I felt better pretty much within the morning but, gee, I seemed to have misplaced my pants and car keys. What really is one to do? So I catch up with a few important details like perusing blogs, eating hard boiled eggs and watching Dancing Spiderman (and friends!). Everyone should watch Dancing Spiderman. Go ahead I'll wait.

I got to greet monkeys when the bus came home, my dad and step-mom came over for while and then the boyfriend brought dinner over.

Later, we went to Target to purchase a cast-iron dutch oven that only Target carries (on sale!). I had one to offer him, but since this particular model was highly recommended by America's Test Kitchen it's the only one he'd bother with. Kitchen items are his toys. Not surprisingly, everything he has cooked has always hit the right notes and I am surprised I'm not more chunky. Maybe since I get to carry heavy things like dutch ovens. I must also remember this if I ever need to knock someone out from above. You never know.

I intended to end the evening early but my bedroom was still waiting for aid from FEMA. So, I stayed up until the wee morning hours reclaiming my territory and I'm having feelings that the end of the mess is nigh! Either that or I'm having gas.

Unfortunately, I may have cleaned too well as I still can't find my car keys.

Beyond Pottydome

2007-09-26T10:25:00.000-04:00

Even though the Younger Monkey has been out of diapers for quite some time now, that doesn't mean there is a lack of potty adventures at hand. Grandma reports that yesterday for example, they both had to go No. 2 at the last minute and at the same time on the same toilet. We'll just say, two men enter, one man leaves.

Remember Shimajiro, the potty training tiger? He's back to show us how to use a public toilet in Japan!

(Also, this further affirms my theory that what is safe for Asian children may or may not be safe for work. Or the unchiphobic.)

via JapanSugoi

If You Play Halo You're Probably Not Reading This

2007-09-25T23:11:00.000-04:00

Often I am numb to the level of geekery that permeates my daily life. It did not strike me as odd, for instance, when all the work was mysteriously done and most of the company left early for the day. To go home and play Halo 3.

Except for me. Instead I went to the boyfriend's home and had baked beans on toast for dinner. Priorities, people.

Mr. Clean Is Coming To Town

2007-09-24T22:47:00.000-04:00

It wouldn't have mattered how today went at work and it would still have been a good day since upon my arrival I had forgotten that I cleaned my desk off Friday before I left. It was a glorious sight. Coming home however was another matter as I'm still shredding my life away. I am being diligent though and the end is within my grubby grasp.

I spent yesterday wondering if I was having mere allergies or if i was getting sick. I had played tonsil hockey with a certain someone that morning and he was having all kinds of guilt about giving me a cold. I s'pose those are the risks when you haven't made out with your sweetie for a week. To set his mind at ease, I can now confirm it is something in this particular bin of paper I'm going through. Some kind of long dormant spores have been flung into the ether as I was fine all day and now my eyes burn. They buuuuuuuurn.

I can hear mom laughing at me when I start my bathroom monologue about why we as humans have so much mucus. Just where does it all come from and why must I swim in it? It was flinging everywhere like a frog's tongue catching flies. Her amusement at my trials is not an unusual occurrence. I might be doing it more on purpose now since it cheers her up.

In true form, this being the last batch of papers (I hope, I pray) I finally found my social security card at the bottom. People scoff when I don't simply dump everything in a monstrous purge and start over but it's for these items I know I can't do that. I originally went to go get a new one for the Target job but after waiting three hours in the social security office I simply had to leave. It was a scary place and I must be sure never to lose it for good.

By the way, I'm still waffling on the Cub Scouts. Elder Monkey most certainly wants to do it and I may just be worrying too much about the whole thing. He really does need something like this.

Don't Touch the Precious Things

2007-09-23T21:37:00.000-04:00

Since I am also known as Mom's Taxi Service she is pretty much housebound all week when I am not around. So I try to find things that need done to be sure she gets out on weekends.

It hasn't been a problem lately as she's been downsizing her items as well. The weekends have been filled with several trips to the Goodwill, trading in DVDs, donating to the library. Today was all about finding a new refrigerator that won't randomly freeze the lettuce overnight and to search for new pants. I have no idea if these things are related.

We found a prospective fridge at Hardware Uberstore but it seems to be too tall for my kitchen. We also learned that the bathroom aisle is a replica of the foreboding set from "When Toilets Attack!", a heartfelt musical/slasher film with singing toilets interspersed with shrieks of terror.

Being the Local People that we are we continued onto the Local Outlet Shop that trains the cashiers to say things like "Oh, Fiddle Faddle!" over the loudspeaker while searching for return slips.

Mom is, like myself, somewhat of an anti-fashionista. Buying clothing is one of the things I put at the bottom of my priority list, right next to immunizing hippos for herpes. Putting aside the probable candidacy for What Not To Wear, she has lost so much weight her already baggy clothes have started to swallow her whole. New pants of some sort are in order.

While she tried on the one pair that were neither floral explosion nor plus sized (this is Florida after all) I occupied myself with the wall of VHS for sale located in the Petite section. If I am ever in need of any movie sequel on VHS I will know where to go. The Sandlot 2. Critters 3. House Party 2, 3, and 4!

Also sandwiched in the midst of Steven Seagal and Barber Shop 2 was Trick. I was most amused by visions of any one of the meandering blue-haired clientele picking this up at discount savings for a fun afternoon with Coco Peru. You remember, this movie with Neve's brother and Tori Spelling? I've always wanted to try playing the piano with a partner ever since.

Then, while waiting for mom to figure out her newly acquired debit card to purchase her new pair of pants and two books of sudoku, all for under ten dollars, I realized I might very well be "The One".

No offense but if your last name happens to be Smith please don't call. I've moved.

Saturday Is The New Friday

2007-09-22T23:43:00.000-04:00

Saturdays are now the weekly sleepover night instead of Friday. Today was filled with rain and more rain, effectively stifling any plans for yardwork and go to outside with monkeys. After venturing forth to the store for rations, and an explanation about the wonders of kohlrabi and shallots, monkeys came with me to the ~~morgue~~ storage unit.

When mom moved in, my plan of course was to go through all lurking items and have the house tip-top beforehand. But those plans never work. If I had a fulltime construction crew and a TV show, possibly. Someone get on that for me. Anyways, to make space for her I shoveled everything into mile high totes and boxes banishing them to cold storage. Since then I've been extracting a few at a time and shredding, shredding, shredding. Because it's all paper. Thirty years worth. And it's been breeding.

So, I kinda promised if Elder Monkey was good we'd break out the newly excavated SNES and N64. I had found the systems earlier this week and he's been eyeing them over my bed, but the games were nowhere to be found. So we went treasure hunting in the depths of the storage unit. The box was located at last, on the farthest wall to the back at the bottom under the dead sea scrolls, guarded by a pack of wild, rabid stuffed animals. They demanded a sacrifice and so I said rest assured my sinuses would be paying the price later.

For some reason I decided to truck a lot of it back and needless to say, I should be in asleep at the moment but I can't seem to find the bed again. Soon. Maybe next year.

Increase Your Word Power In 28 Days

2007-09-22T13:21:00.000-04:00

Homework for Elder Monkey has been good overall this year with the exception of two weeks ago Monday, when his cranium literally exploded and all sorts of screaming hatred blew out his ears.

I've heard some people say that words at their root are just words and should not hold power. I have a seven year old you might want to talk to.

It was the apocalypse of meltdowns. He hated homework. He hated Younger Monkey. He hated that Younger Monkey did not have homework. He hated his mom. More telling though, he hated living with them.

He did not, however, hate me. I was seemingly in his eyes, his only ally. Which probably quickly turned when I took away privileges upon hearing of all the spewing disrespect to his mom. However, I could smell something was festering and he wasn't ready to give it up. This was stewing rather than spewing.

Somewhere in the parenting manual there is a chapter still being written detailing maneuvers on how to speak to adults-in-training. I hardly ever have the right words to say. I stumble over them most of the time and I'm never sure which combination of words are scathing and which are healing.

Yesterday, one of his spelling words was "married". To the Elder Monkey, this word made his eyes burn. Tears began to streak his face and as they rolled out came words of his own.

It's not that he wants to just live with me, but all of us together. It's mom's fault completely that we aren't married anymore.

At this point we break out the words that are antidotes, the ones that soothe, the ones that try to break the resolve of a chaotic unfair life. But we still aren't sure of their effectiveness.

While I have the belief that our situation is probably as good as it can be, the verbal sucker punches along that path still know where it hurts the most.

So You Wanna Be A Cub Scout?

2007-09-21T10:42:00.000-04:00

I know one person who does at least.

Elder Monkey loves his little brother, but he gets annoyed with him so much more frequently than he used to. So I find it perfectly logical that he should want to seek out another social circle with other kids that won't turn him into a pretzel with their telekinesis.

As I was never inclined as a child to do things like go outside (ew!) and all that brotherly bonding stuff, I'll readily admit I'm not the best when it comes to encouraging such activities.

But that's me and not him. So we went to see what all it entails last night.

On the plus Cub Scouts is a different beast than Boy Scouts where parental involvement seems much more integral, which I'm all for. It would certainly get him out of the house, whereas I throw them outside now only after I've hacked at the lawn every six months or so. Elder Monkey seemed especially keen on the whole prospect of the Pinewood Derby.

Oh, and archery. His only questionto the scout leader was whether they'd get to do archery. He was all over that. Which given his propensity for shooting blunt objects, I suppose the least he could do is learn to aim. Famous last words.

I am also not so thrilled for various reasons that are probably just paranoia. It reminds me of what it was like going to church. Not the least of which is how much I kept reading about an emphasis on "duty to God" throughout the literature. Also that it strangely feels like am signing him up for the mini-military.

Are there any former Cub Scouts out there that can share their experience?

It's No Wonder I Don't Know What's For Dinner

2007-09-19T18:18:00.000-04:00

While taking this quiz (via Hiding in the Backwaters), I needed a tie-breaker question to give me an answer:

Which is most true?

1. All that exists is matter and energy.

2. There is a spiritual side to being human.

I'm having the hardest time leaning towards one or the other, since I don't think they are mutually exclusive. Why can't these things be connected?

If I go with No.1 I get:

You scored as Materialist

Materialism stresses the essence of fundamental particles. Everything that exists is purely physical matter and there is no special force that holds life together. You believe that anything can be explained by breaking it up into its pieces. i.e. the big picture can be understood by its smaller elements.

Materialist - 81%
Cultural Creative - 81%
Modernist - 63%
Postmodernist- 56%
Existentialist - 50%
Idealist - 31%
Romanticist - 25%<
Fundamentalist - 19%

What is Your World View?
created with QuizFarm.com

If I go with No. 2 I get:

You scored as Cultural Creative

Cultural Creatives are probably the newest group to enter this realm. You are a modern thinker who tends to shy away from organized religion but still feels as if there is something greater than ourselves. You are very spiritual, even if you are not religious. Life has a meaning outside of the rational.

Cultural Creative - 81%
Materialist - 81%
Modernist - 63%
Postmodernist- 56%
Existentialist - 50%
Idealist - 31%
Romanticist - 25%<
Fundamentalist - 19%

What is Your World View?
created with QuizFarm.com

I ponder onward.

Boys and Their Toys

2007-09-14T23:48:00.000-04:00

I'm going to be rather blunt, a skill I've honestly only learned by rearing offspring. I often think without them I'd be some hermit in an underground lair, polishing the precious things.

Elder Monkey calls me up from school this afternoon with ten minutes left to go until the bus whisks them home in order to tell me about his man business. His actual man business.

"Daddy, my penis hurts. And there is some white stuff. No I can't ride the bus. It hurts!"

I feel bad of course, but being an hour away, I tell him to tough it out. Since I am the resident parental unit with the similar equipment, Daddy gets to deal with explanations of this sort. I'm totally not ready for this yet but at least it's something I know about.

This is fine with Mommy, who was unavailable for comment, as she is getting super embarrassed with all the naked flaunting of boy parts as of late. Modesty doesn't seem to be as highly understood a commodity as I had embraced it in my youth.

Seeing no end to the pain, off Elder monkey goes to the doctor with Mom. Younger Monkey of course accompanied them and gave his usual rambling and strangely related commentary track. Since he is a master at the bluntmanship, a transcript follows, translated into the langauge most appropriate for this conversation:

Oh hai ther, I'm [yunger munky], You R Dr. Jumba(?). Nice to meetya. *handshake*

I went to skool on da bus iwth my harness and went to Mz. Teechr's class. Then I ate da lunch. I had chipsss. And a penutbuder sammich.

U can do me a favor. My butt. U can looks at it plz? A fart came out of it. K Thnx.

12 of 12 ~ Sept. '07 Edition

2007-09-12T23:30:00.000-04:00

I totally remembered what day it was today. Go me.

Meaning, the twelfth day of the month means twelve photos for you.

01. Clickety clickety clack go the keys in the morning email.

02. John has returned from Japan with treasures and stories galore.

03. Please Do Not Touch. That means you.

04. I'd wondered where my shadow wandered off to.

05. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

06. Mac+Cheese Dinner v2.0 (Lunch Edition).

07. Shhhhhhhh! Now recording...

08. Green Orange. Patience, my sweet.

09. Scheherazade is the only soundtrack to the sunset.

10. Stocking the monkey cupboards: Bananas. Bread. Peanut Butter.

11. A wind whistles a lonely tune through the empty Box. I think I saw a tumbleweed pass by.

12. In the end, two silly women Jenga it out on the television.

See whole bunch more and get in on the game at Chad Darnell's ongoing 12 of 12 project.

2007-09-03T21:58:00.000-04:00

I've been trying to write about my day, everyday, each after the next, but it's hard to concentrate when my house is moaning at me like a beached whale. Plus before I can even get to the keyboard, I pass out in the smallish space left on my bed that is not occupied with...stuff. Mostly in numerous piles full of tiny bits that's hard to micromanage.

Double plus my computer has been completely taken over by cannibals, androids and virgin entrails.

I'm totally not kidding about this and it's totally not my fault.

I could tell you about the dream I had last night where my neighbors houses on either side of me vanished when I woke up in the morning. No grass or trash or evidence of any previous life, just paved concrete slabs. For some reason one was my dead grandparents house and I went an a rampage trying to dig though the chasm underneath the concrete to find everything stacked in a moist stinky pile. Then I decided to go to back to Canada to cohabitate with all the rainbow colored moose.

That might have just been the drool in my sleep talking though.

I can also tell you that the birthday crazy train has finally come to a screeching halt now that August is done with and everyone has stopped becoming older for now. Praise Jeebus.

So the days have been good, bad and inbetween. It promises to be the start of a jumpy week so maybe you'll hear about it, maybe not.

In the meantime, here's how my sister, as most native Floridians do, co-habitates with insects.

Dinner For Three

2007-08-27T23:30:00.000-04:00

Dog Doo Afternoon

2007-08-26T23:09:00.000-04:00

Mom's been in the house for one week now. But today she is officially moved out of her old place.

Today we went down to the garage apartment that she (and for awhile her children) called home for near 20 years. I packed the remainder of my sister's wondrous oddities, the last dusty bookshelf to go. Mom put the key under the doormat for the landlord. We traipsed down the steep steps, onto the walkway that carved through the backyard. Then she pulled a gardenia close to her face, gave it a sniff and we piled in the car and drove away.

I wonder if there is any bittersweetness to it at all for her. It's hard to tell. It was a place to call home regardless of it's faults. Rather like a marriage that slowly fell apart long ago but you stay together because you need each other. You curse each other but you are used to each other, so it becomes the way things are. You thrive together and you grow old together.

For all of it's cracks in the walls and odors emenating from the minefield of doggy doo in the afternoon heat and boisterous, obtrusive neighbors with their mounds of garbage...There was still a nice breeze that came through the windows on just the right day.

I think now with each day that goes by that I am getting all the piles of my stuff whittled away she is feeling better about the move. We got her a new dresser today to be delivered next Saturday. I was finally inspired to replace the shower curtain and rusted rod that if not positioned properly would flood the bathroom. One can walk now through house from the front door to the back door without a gymnist's olympic medal.

And I mowed the lawn. Can I get an amen? Cause that my brethren is a miracle unto itself.

As I drove to the boyfriend's home this evening, there was an especially spectacular cloud formation brushed across the broad canvas sky. The clouds live for change. They do it freely and at every moment of every day. They cause grace even when furious and they paint just the right nuance. This is why people look to the sky when they need solace, when their trials are bluntly falling upon on their feet to trip them up. It's a place that is different, something vast and always new.

Things are getting done and so the canvas changes with it.

No More Jumping On the Bed (The Doctor Said)

2007-08-25T22:39:00.000-04:00

Monkeys slept in their own bed yesterday for the first time since the split. It's a fold down futon in the living room, brought over with grandma, as they don't have their own room. It does the job for the time being. Except for now when I'm still herding younger monkey from wandering around the house.

The frustrating part is even when I'm done fixing up the house they still really won't have a proper bedroom to speak of. I'm contemplating giving them my room.

Today is Super X-Wife's birthday. The zillionth August child in a row and they aren't done yet. She's having friends over and I'm taking the boys an extra night. I am more than glad to take them overnight more if it mean's some kind of social life emerge for her.

There may even be a "boyfriend" in the works but I use the term extremely loosely. There is a history of men in her life, even before me...how do I put this lightly... switching to play for the other team midgame. And this new one seems to be in denial.

I don't think mom is doing so well with the boys' chaos. An afternoon with them is at her threshold. A whole weekend is bringing out the worst in her and them. In fact if this is going to be the norm, it's not going to work at all. She's tired, they're at top speed and I'm somewhere in the middle playing traffic cop.

I'm sure there are more important things to say but I can hear closeby echoes of rumblings and tumblings from where there should be slumbering and there's bound to be a throw down soon...

"A" is for Archaeopteryx

2007-08-25T20:49:00.000-04:00

I am currently in clean-out-my-life mode... but if I weren't I'd buy this and hang it conspicuously on my wall:

Palaeobet: An Alphabet of Ancient Animals

Click on the image to see all it's delights close up.

Plus I think this comic by the same artist, Rosemary Mosco, is rather brilliant: Mid-Cambrian Morning

via Retaliatory Vandalism

Life As Goldilocks

2007-08-24T23:23:00.000-04:00

I can't seem to get back into the swing of getting to work on time again. I've been 15 minutes late every day this week no matter what time I left the house. It's not all that big of a deal with me since they know I'm all crazy with my schedule, but it still starts my days off feeling already behind.

For lunch I ventured out with three coworkers who I'll affectionately nickname The Bear Squad. They are married, burly and scruffy lads of the company. Let's just say I offered to drive and my car had considerably less pickup than usual.

As the Bear Squad likes to eat substantial portions we went to a Spanish lunchtype place. I asked what was good and one said the Cuban. I didn't get it but maybe next time I should order one hot-pressed. And naked. Drizzled...in oil... Hungry yet?

The Biggest Bear (the one with the biggest heart of course) of them busted his tooth on a piece o' pork bone and just kept on eating through the pain.

Speaking of which the Younger Monkey's got his first loose tooth. I'm hoping he doesn't chuck it or swallow it but I have a feeling he'll be coming up to me soon with a gap in his smile, location of the wayward chopper unknown. Just in time for school pictures of course.

The other food highlight of the day would be that I used my kitchen to cook dinner for the monkeys for the first time possibly in months. It's only been a room lately where everything piled up while I worked on other rooms. But I had to make sure she had a place to cook for Mom being around, which is at least good for the house.

It makes me clean up after myself. Sorta.

Okay, I swear I just heard someone out there make a taunting giggle-snort.

Brain Scramble

2007-08-23T23:55:00.000-04:00

Today my hair woke up and said "I think I'll stand up straight today." So instead of fighting it's revolt against gravity, I decided to play along and look like a junior high schooler. It's funny how a hair style can tweak one's personality if done right. Maybe the follicles are connected to my brain. So they kind of act like presonality switches. I love how I can convince myself of preposterous things.

Fun as that was, I'm pretty sure it affected my mathematical skills as they went haywire several times. I'm no computational whiz but I thought at least I knew my times tables. Today, however, I was adding instead of multiplying, counting fingers I didn't know I had and numbers were generally doing the polka all through my cranium. I can't dance the polka you know.

And then when it was all done we had to count all over again. Maybe I should invest in a monacle and a Transylvanian accent.

Luckily, I have other mad skillz that make people forget about all that. Um, I'll let you know what those are when I figure out what they are.

I left work early to take mom to the psychologist. She's preparing for a disability court hearing and needed her to fill out something or other. She also hadn't seen her in about a year and first thing said was a comment on how thin she has gotten. And, wait for it, that she needs to eat more. I promptly exited with monkeys since this line of questioning would be going on for about an hour.

I also went to the boyfriends house for dinner. I haven't been there in a while since he lives rather far away. He cooked a tamale pie with cornbread crust. It was scrumptious, but then everything he cooks is. He 's got the culinary touch. I'm not just saying that cause I'm sweet on him.

It's because I get free food if I keep telling him I like it. And hot lovin'. Because that's the secret ingredient. Duh.

It seems like my days are packed to the brim now and I'm starting to get exceptionally tired in the evening, especially when I try to write incoherent blog entrys at nigh.... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....

Spoiled

2007-08-22T23:39:00.000-04:00

I'll admit that working from home all that time spoiled me. The thing I'm not thrilled with the most about having to go into work again is that I don't see the boys after school anymore.

Mom was feeling sicker today, but not frazzled so that's good. Some days are better than others.

Apparently, I am told, that the Elder Monkey had a major meltdown regarding playing video games this afternoon.

He was doing so well with the listening, too. At least with me. He knows when it's time to turn it off and often does it himself now. I mean I KNOW what it's like to be in the middle of a level and it's all the sudden time to go. I've been there, I relate. So I thought things were well in this arena.

Which means when you throw new people into the mix, we start all over again.

I'm told he's been talking back to his mom harshly. That is so not cool.

Have I taught you nothing, monkeyboy? You don't talk back to The Mother. She will always win. Or she will behead you with her stare. Didn't you see the tongue of the School Transportation Call Person as she pulled it through the phone and made balloon animals out of it? Have you forgetten the ancient training, grasshopper?

Sigh. I heard him do it once now and it really shocked me a bit to hear this was the norm. For all the communication the Super Ex-Wife and I keep up, it's still like "He did what?" Apparently, Daddy is much more fun (which really doesn't work out to be fun in the long run).

I'm seeing the brat-beast emerge from it's hibernation state and venture out into the open. It's indeed fugly with all those fangs. But if that's the way he plays it, he knows the cost by now. So no games or TV of any kind again for quite a while. I'm inclined to make them go away for good actually. We shall see.

School Daze

2007-08-21T23:26:00.000-04:00

Today was the first day of the new school year here. Elder Monkey is in Second Grade and Younger Monkey in First Grade.

That last sentence makes my eyes cross every time look at it. Mainly about the Younger Monkey. It means my youngest offspring will be six years old next week. No more babies here! I suppose there haven't been for quite sometime but that's not the point.

I got up in time to see them off at the bus stop. The bus was twenty minutes late. Standard fare apparently for a first day, but a bit worrisome considering the Epic Battle of the Super Ex-Wife vs. the School Transportation Department that transpired the week before. I had to call yesterday to settle it since both sides now channel Vigo the Carpathian (In stereo!) when speaking ~~with~~ at each other. I have no intention of taking anyone to the hospital with a phone inserted in an inappropriate body part.

Anyways, all told I heard there was some writing and reading, lunch, P.E. and maybe a teacher or two. I know it's not a sparkly new experience for them anymore, but that was about all I could pry out of the Monkey Mind Meld so it'll have to do.

In other news, did you know that Second Graders do research papers? I will spare you the gory details about the joy that should bring around here.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Part of the plan for mom moving is so that she can watch the boys for us after school for about an hour each day until someone can get home. Yesterday evening was all around frightful. I got a really sinking feeling wondering if it will be okay.

Mom is doing better today. She is starting to adjust to the change at her own pace. It's going to take a while. Today went well once they figured out the PS2 is also a DVD player and Pandas ran amok on screen. For now there is going to be lots of after school movietime.

So far, monkeys don't react much about why Grandma is always feeling sick. They do know that the rule is to take it easy around her. One of the major causes of her depression is that she wants to feel useful, so it does give her a purpose if only for an hour each day. Boy, does it ever give her something to do. I'm thinking this will help her not be so lonely at least.

And I'm thinking all this easier access to Grandma's toy collection won't hurt either. She's always had cooler toys and movies than I.

The Problem With Mom

2007-08-20T23:03:00.000-04:00

I now have a housemate. Mom moved in yesterday.

We get along better than most I think. There are no hardcore personality clashes or overbearing traits of which to write about. In fact I thought of selling my house once and moving in with her. So I find it funny when the first thing I get from others is a cringe and an apology as to my sanity. I imagine the first thought has to do with some Overbearing Mother Syndrome.

Mom is a beautiful person. People used to think she was my big sister sometimes when she came to pick me up from school. She has a tattoo of a vampire bite on her neck and a phoenix on her arm. She loves comic books and anime and Star Wars. She got me to breathe when I starting shaking at my wedding rehearsal. She does not tolerate brash stupidity or being lied to. She has wonderful handwriting. She always knew how to take care of me when I got my annual vomity sickness. She was a very strong person.

Oh, how I wish that her being an interfering busybody were the reason for condolences. I wish I could write about how it's going to be great that she's here. I wish I could tell you that.

Mom is not strong anymore. Doctors can't tell her what's wrong. She is in pain all of the time. She is slowly losing weight. She can only eat a few types of foods that don't make her sick. She can't take drugs that might help, because most the side effects make her even more sick. She can't move with speed or dexterity. She can't push or pull or drive. She doesn't have the physical well being to hold any kind of job anymore. She is exhausted to the point of tears but does not ever sleep.

So the problem with mom is that..we don't know what the problem actually is.

She is down to 100 pounds. When I hug her, she is only a fragile frame of what she once was. When I hug her I can feel the bones in her wearily protrude with hardly anything but a layer of skin to separate them from my touch. While only a mere unit of measure, only a fraction of a space between 100 and 99, I greatly fear for the depth at which her state of mind will plummet the next time she has to approach that scale and the nurse tells her "You need to eat more..." I kind of fear for the nurse as well. With every pound of flesh she loses along with it goes a portion of her hope and will to continue.

But it is not only her body that is a crumbling structure. What remains of her spirit is hanging from it, almost crucified, nearly suffocated. She doesn't care to see the living anymore. Her anger and jealousy tell her it's not fair to see people healthy and living their lives. It's not fair to be a mere witness. To just exist and nothing else.

The only time we go out is a weekly trip to take her grocery shopping. It takes her three times as long to walk, to think, to read, to try something new and decide whether it will make her even sicker. She's tired of eating. She's tired of trying, failing and weeping. She's tired of living.

And yet she can't ever fall sleep.

I don't try to tell her anymore that it will all be okay, when all my hand can feel when I hug her are the segments of her spine, no muscle or fat or substance that has now vanished. I don't tell her anymore not to be sorry for imposing on me when nothing can console. I don't think there are any words that can heal. I am not a doctor and the ones we've seen haven't done any good.

I don't say anything at all. I just breathe comfortably like she told me to once before. The air of my calm is all that I can pass onto her. But we are here together nonetheless.

Which Ancient Language Are You

2007-08-18T15:41:00.000-04:00

Your Score: Linear B

You are Linear B. Even those who can follow you think you're all Greek to them. Which, after all, is true - Linear B being the first known text for written Greek. To most people, you're incomprehensible. But what do you care? You're tough, hard, long-enduring and have greater nobility than most. Naturally, you don't admit to borrowing extensively from your brother Linear A.

The Which Ancient Language Are You Test

All In Good Time

2007-08-16T23:20:00.000-04:00

According to mom, she went into labor at 7:00 AM. However, much to her chagrin, I got all distracted, stopped to see the sights and maybe have a chat with the white rabbit along the way, and arrived at precisely 11:20 PM. This slow and steady pace has set the prescendent for everything I have ever done since. Which is why it just makes more sense to write about my birthday the day after.

For a few hours, I contemplated having a gathering of some sort. But then I came to my senses and remembered that I don't actually like organizing or socializing in groups of people for extended periods of time. Whew, that was close.

So being a man of simple pleasures, I got a haircut.

And my sweetie sent me flowers.

And because he knows I forget to eat lunch I promptly ate them.

Which may be why I have been thirty for exactly one day now and survived to tell about it.

Amazingly, it has all culminated thus far in learning something that I probably knew a long time ago but am just starting to heed: For this Tortoise it's far more satisfying and in fact essential to stop and ask Hare if he likes lemon and honey in his tea instead of winning that silly race. How about that.

Dear Merv Griffin

2007-08-13T18:16:00.000-04:00

Seeing as I had neither respect nor disdain for you, my only memory of your name will be forever emblazoned with this classic piece of American artistry which I now present in tribute:

Merv Griffin! (Warning: Not really safe for the Lactose intolerant.)

UPDATE: On the author's blog.

Ten Random Facts About Yesterday

2007-08-12T14:31:00.001-04:00

In order of appearance:

* Every morning should begin with a bang. Like a literal loud "BANG!" Wait, it shouldn't?

* In almost all Super Mario games where Peach and Yoshi are playable, the computer wants to make Peach a royal bitch and Yoshi a punk. And why exactly does Yoshi lay eggs when he is a boy?

* I used some of the Alpha Male Cooling Body Scrub in the shower. I hadn't used it in a while and I suddenly remembered now that it gives orifices of the nether regions a perky, minty-breath freshness.

* When I think I've got The Elder Monkey figured out, that's the moment he will change his mind about everything. The Elder Monkey now likes bagels and cream cheese after deciding to eat my breakfast, since it was obviously better than his.

* When I think I've got The Younger Monkey figured out, that's the moment he doesn't change his mind, but brings it to the next level. The Younger Monkey wants macaroni & cheese and/or cheeseburger and/or a block of cheese for every meal including breakfast.

* The Elder Monkey knows that "I'm not a plant!" as he explained to me he doesn't need the photosynthesis from sitting in the hot car. Also, whining about it helps.

* Even though I have to move my mom in with me by next weekend I decided to spend the day with the boyfriend relaxing and doing, um, almost nothing. Twice. For quite a few hours.

* Peanut butter and banana in a smoothie is apparently quite different from peanut butter and banana in a sandwich.

* I am contemplating a really, really short haircut. And sweetie, it's not a thinning bald spot. When you tuft it with gel it's a "no-hawk".

* Alcohol is generally expensive, tastes horrible and makes you lose all your balance. I fall over myself without being drunk I don't need help with that, thanks.

Was some of that TMI? Oh well. This is what makes my life worth living, people.

I still don't feel like doing much today but my house is a post-modernist art project that needs to come back down to earth. Otherwise, the holes in the walls are... supposed to be there. Yup.

Go Go Gomotaku!

2007-08-09T22:16:00.000-04:00

I suppose I should mention that I do still podcast regularly. Once a week in fact on Thursday mornings.

So if for some odd reason you've been missing my voice here you can find me as one of the hosts at the AnimeNation News Podcast. I probably haven't mentioned it before since I'm quite sure upon listening some of you may not know what the hell we are going on about.

I actually wasn't keen on doing it at first as I do not claim to be anywhere near a full fledged otaku, but it's gotten to be fun. So if you are fellow anime fans, do give it a try!

Will The Real Thomas Welch Please Stand Up (And Give Me My Money)

2007-08-09T14:03:00.000-04:00

I hope Thomas Welch is enjoying my paycheck.

If you are a twitterati* you've probably gathered that I worked at Target for a total of one day. Um, night. For whatever reason the highly advanced timecard system spit-up all over me and thought my name is Thomas Welch. You may also gather that because of this I've only been paid $23.96 for the few hours of humorous propaganda videos we had to watch but nary much else.

I'm sure Thomas is a very nice bloke and I hope he uses it to perhaps better himself. Perhaps numerous trips to IHOP, some fancy new bling for the lowrider, or taking your woman to the roller derby is in order. Until I can track him down and either threaten him with the boxcutter they foolishly thrust in my hands or offer him a bag of lollipops in return. Whichever works better.

Anywho, it's all way too complicated to condone explanation but I am employed by my old job again. The one that technically never was my old job because I never officially came off the payroll. The only change being after a year and a half of working for them from home I am back to the good ol' daily traffic jam and 40 hour week at the place that is said old job. It's all coming back to me now: The forgetting to eat lunch, the formations of dark matter that overflow from the rafters and the feeling that when I get home I don't really want to DO anything else aside from cauterize my legs at the ankles.

Unfortunately, there is lots going on after hours, in fact much more than usual and labor intensive. It involves drywall, terrazzo and inventing a raygun to vaporize a lifetime of stuff. Or at least the ducks who keep pooping on my front porch. Living life upside down is interesting if for nothing else that you get strong wrists and fingertips from walking on your hands all the time.

Before I forget, my humble thanks to the kind snarky bastard who sent me the colorful parachute. While it turns out I don't need it for the moment I've passed it on to my dad who is in much harsher dire straits regarding employment. Also to Jon and Mush for offering to help with my resume. What can I say I feel, loved.

Back to the grind.

*Not to be confused with a group of twits. This is of course up for debate.

Bring on the Rain

2007-08-01T22:36:00.000-04:00

August has always been my favorite month. But in recent years August hasn't been itself.

I always used to remember summers in my youth still as a hot breath of fire, but was quickly quenched every afternoon without fail by a swift roaring storm. I could time my day to it, always in waiting with excitement for that rumble and drop that would wash all the heated dust and sweat away. For the past few weeks it seems summer has been behaving itself a little more and recapturing some of this which I used to love, instead of a recent history of split personality; a fidgety snap of drought for months and hurricanes the rest.

Aside from today when it rained elephants and rhinos. The dogs and cats were on vacation you see. And apparently not only here, but other unexpected locales.

My personal tempests have gotten into a similar kind of groove and show no sign of slowing. I won't let them beat me but I'm a bit exhausted tonight.

Ongline Podcast Interview Part 2

2007-07-10T21:44:00.000-04:00

The still fabulous (and now skinny) John Ong continues his interview with me in the second part of that conversation, now available on his Ongline Podcast. We talk more about individual pieces and the ideas behind them. We rambled on so much that there will be a third part as well!

Again, it's an enhanced podcast which means it has pictures that pop up along with the audio. It also means you need iTunes or Quicktime to listen and view it.

For those that can't play the enhanced version, you can download the regular mp3 version and just follow along with the links in the shownotes.

As the Crow Flies (4:02)
This Boy Elroy (5:26)
Zephyr's Eve (12:24)
Ragan Fox (16:20)
Lost Boy No. 7 (20:27)
Lost Boy No. 3 (20:27)
Lost Boy No. 9 (20:27)
Short Circuit (28:33)
Blanket Ward (34:56)
Weak (35:28)
The Aquestrian (38:44)
The Deal (40:18)
Secret Ingredient (41:14)
Solar Express (42:18)

Ugly Routine

2007-07-06T23:43:00.000-04:00

I tried and failed once again to see if I could gain impossible approval to bring an important person along to the movies tonight, to meet my monkeys. It will apparently be a long time before they meet my boyfriend. He is to remain in my other life indefinitely. Because they are not old enough I am told. Or something like that.

There is only one person who can relegate me to such a state with only a few words and a moment. It is always when I must speak with her of things in relation to our children and my apparent stubbornness to stick with my lifestyle. The conversations don't end well lately when in regards to the company I keep and wanting to extend that company to my monkeys.

Even after all this time I am looking for her approval, for a redemption from her. The conversation is a jagged dance. We go through the steps and I am careful not to step on toes and when I do we start over. When I am brave enough to break through in a new move, it's never how I saw it in my head. It's weaker, it scratches and I feel my ankles collapse. It's when the rehearsed lines do not empower, when they slither down into the corner with another foolish hope of acceptance, that is my heel and my downfall.

My bumbling communication skills do not have their limits there either apparently. I'm still on the job hunt. It's not going well.

I know what I am good at, but convincing other people of that is really hard to do. I was on the verge of a new worker drone "art"-type job today. One of those that say artist in the job title but really don't require an iota of creative know how, simply the mechanics of a point and click. I guess anything using Photoshop is considered an artist job? But it didn't work out. So we look onward.

So before that, I went and got the Target job earlier this week. I probably start next week. Peed in a cup and everything. As it is the vampire shift, I am told they lock you in the building until daylight. Wa-hoo.

I do feel better now after taking my dad and his wife with us to the movies. At least I could cheer someone up this evening. I'll try again tomorrow, like always, and see if my routine has changed.

Would You Like Fries With That?

2007-06-26T13:46:00.000-04:00

The time has come. I am looking for a new job. I didn't quit, wasn't fired, it was a mutual time to move on type of thing.

And now I remember that jobhunting it is the worst thing ever. Worse than being sick. Worse than a breakup. Worse than getting a mullet. Worse than the new Transformers movie.

In my real world unfortunately there are some jobs with which in the past I tend to develop a nervous twitching sensation and risk wretching all over things in my path. I am a kind, loyal individual with a positive outlook on life and a sturdy work ethic. Have to keep telling myself that's what is going on the job application and the fake interview smile. I get hired and then I become the all consuming darkness that that will freeze you with one glint of my prostheitc hook.

Jobs such as being the top in any salesperson/customer relationship. Or strapped to my seat in my XYZ Inc. cubicle contemplating my red stapler. Anything involving "support"? A nightmare waiting to happen. Unless I find a place where they WANT me to throw up on them everyday. I haven't found that yet.

Don't get me wrong, I like having a job. I didn't always love it, but I truly enjoyed where I work now. I also think it was a fluke. I won't find anything really close to it again.

Maybe I've got a neurosis where I don't like dealing with other people's money in any capacity. In terms of dealing with it's exchange for goods and services. As weird as it sounds that includes getting a paycheck. I always feel like I'm getting away with something.

I have no college degree, no formal training in anything, no savings, and my work experience isn't something I can translate into a local AND well paying place of employment. Freelancing is right out for making any kind of stable income. I knew this would be happening soon. For some reason I'm still remarkably calm. In my previous life, most major change required that I shut my bedroom door and write my last will, instead of doing anything about it.

Hm, reading all this essentially makes me a spoiled brat. That kind of sucks too. My redemption for any bad attitude I hope comes in the fact that I'm at least hunting instead of lollygagging about. Amazing what having kids will do to one's motivation. I'm now in that mode of finding the kind of job you get because I have to.

I'm actually more tired than anything of advice, people asking me where I've applied, and how to go about "selling" myself. I get it, it's hard to find a job. I get it, really. I will never like selling things. You don't have to keep repeating yourself. Some people I just don't tell things to anymore because of this.

But I'm telling you since that's what's going on right now. Time to go see if Target is hiring the night shift.

Curses!

2007-06-23T11:42:00.000-04:00

The Elder Monkey is reading so well now. It makes a papa proud.

What this means of course is that he can read anything when given enough time to sound it out. Also I've learned that most expletives are simple and not that difficult to figure out. Like F-U-C-K.

I'm not big on the whole swearing thing, but I don't merely out of lifelong repitition. Another one of those evil things that Good Christian Boys simply did not do and so I did not. In my own youth I only remember my Oma (German for grandma) letting her tongue loose, usually in reference to something Opa (German for grandpa) would do, in the form of a scowly "Jesus Christ!" (God-Fearing Methodist for "You idiotic twit!"). The one time I used the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks in front of all the neighbors, a story involving a magical, rampaging peacock, I was brought to the side by dad and felt guilty for weeks afterward.

I apparently have carried this over to the adult version of me:

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words: bomb (1x)

So yesterday, I was "taking a break from work" and happened to see a blinking F-Bomb. And then I hear it dropped in a small but strong voice from behind me. At first I thought it only the child living in my head was finally rebelling but, no, the Elder Monkey was fine-tuning his stealth mode. And phonics. Thank you bloggers for keepin' it real.

Luckily, somewhere in all this parenting thing I learned that if you freak out, they will freak out. Or at least have whatever it was that was supposedly wrong etched in their brain. Not gonna lie, I had to stifle a laugh. Through a twitched face somewhere between panic and amusement, I simply told him that, like many other things it isn't something that he's old enough to use. This usually does the trick and he forgets about it and continues on his merry way. Although my real reasoning is that should he bring that word home to other choice relatives he would not soon forget the ensuing wrath.

I know they are just words, just words. Realistically, he'll hear it all soon enough at school I'm sure (if he hasn't already). But still I can't have a cursing monkey at home just yet. I am completely selfish and enjoying his linguistic innocence. I could just see it now, as he enters the second grade and his first assignment is to write about what he learned over the summer.

And then maybe I'll have a few choice words for myself.

Minor Distractions v.1

2007-06-22T21:12:00.000-04:00

Or Things To Do Instead Of What You Should be Doing

First, I love people who don't make their art a mystery:

More importantly, because of this I have a new favorite song of the moment. If you squished all the band members together, I am certain that I am in this Hot Chip video somewhere. Or should be anyway. These guys are definitely from my home planet:

But instead of drawing I've been completely entranced by SoYouThinkYouCanDance. You have to say it all together like that in order to still have time for dinner. I have great respect for dancers mainly BecauseICan'tDanceAtAll. Clogging anyone?:

Sketch ~ Rotten Edgar

2007-06-15T22:38:00.000-04:00

click to enlarge

When Edgar felt his entitlement to it's fullest potential he gave new meaning to the term "Scratch-N-Sniff".

Top Secret

2007-06-15T01:11:00.000-04:00

By Request Only

2007-06-12T17:34:00.001-04:00

Rather out of necessity, I've decided to start taking requests for commissioned artwork.

If you have an idea for a piece that you'd like to see gracing your walls, I'd be glad to give it a go. I'm also very reasonable and will usually work for crumbs so shoot me an email and let's talk:

signalite (at) gmail (dot) com

PS. I'm still not able (or ready) to sell the pieces that are already shown here but at least you know what you are in for.

in a state

2007-06-06T01:14:00.000-04:00

When I do it, I do it 'til it's done.

Ongline Podcast Interview Part 1

2007-06-05T16:55:00.000-04:00

The fabulous John Ong interviewed me a while back about my art. The first part of that conversation is now available on his Ongline Podcast. It was uber-fun, although there are several hundred ums and I totally don't remember half of what I said. Be gentle.

Since he wanted to show images of what we talked about, it's an enhanced podcast which means it has pictures that pop up along with the audio. It also means you need iTunes or Quicktime to listen/view.

For those that can't play the enhanced version, you can download the regular mp3 version and just follow along with the links in the shownotes.

Electric Shoebox (9:57)
Ringling School of Art and Design (15:00)
deviantART Gallery (24:38)
SeeKyleDraw.com (32:01)
The Proclamation of Ashes (33:51)
Hat Trick (40:54)
Found (45:09)
Astro Boy (46:48)

Security

2007-06-04T23:27:00.000-04:00

I have gullible moments. I know this because I bought a security system today that I probably don't need. This happened before with the water softener guy. It's always once they talk about your kids...It's not so much about the money I think, more about, the giving in. Helping out a bro make his sale under the guise of priorities to my loved ones. Let's forget for the moment that I have gone back to drinking bottled water instead of the filtered from my tap, shall we.

But I was chosen you see. I am special. Only five houses in the area to get it for free, he said. "He" being rather amiable and the "free" being the equipment and installation, an 1800 dollar value dontchaknow! After I sign up for the monthly charges of course. And the three year contract. And when I put the little sign outside my house so the neighbors can easily know, upon their evening walks down the street, who to lynch for sending other solicitors to their door with a "recommendation from your neighbor." I didn't recommend anyone but now they have my name to bandy about.

I can see it now. The little black octagon is my new pink triangle. "There he is! It's always the flamer with the screaming monkeys! We'll just see how safe he is. Let's wait in the bushes so we can chastise him with insults and pooper scooper remnants!"

I'm not feeling too guilty about it. I was in fact randomly thinking about it the other day--how easy it is to break into my house. I've had my share of long nights when my wife would grip me when fear was gripping her that a stranger was among us. It's amazing how a blanket can turn from feathers to titanium when there may be something lurking on the other side.

I've also had first hand experience shoving various small people through windows I pried open with only my fingernails. Although it's more hinderance than heroism to The Elder Monkey. Also, while more compact and agile, you don't send in the Younger Monkey lest you wait for him to watch a movie before unlocking the door. And a snack. And prayed that I did not leave peanut butter in the open.

So while my options weren't easy, when I've given the break-in a try, if I substitute myself with a person more focused and desperate, it's not exactly a boost to peace of mind to see how easy it is. I know that no one is truly safe, even with a blaring alarm. We could all be toast tomorrow or fish food the next. Perhaps when the dinosaurs come back in their spaceship to restore order, we'll be put back in our place. We'll go back to helping each other survive instead of stealing trivialities.

But for now the deed is done, the keypad installed high from wandering monkey fingers, the secret codes in place. Now, should unsuspecting vagrants brave a forced entry, instead of the previous method of just breaking their neck/being impaled/putting an eye out on the obstacle course directly in front of entranceways, they'll have the added joy of going deaf when I can't figure out how to turn off the darn thing. As you can see, I am not so upset about paying for security but rather the impending sign language lessons for convicts. Followed immediately by the second lynching from neighbors, wherein perishable food and garden gnomes will be hurled from those awakened in the dead of night.

I'll try to take pictures.

Sketch o' the Day ~ Twilight at Bearfoot Creek

2007-05-22T21:11:00.000-04:00

click to enlarge
...bramble, clop, bramble, clop, clop...the opposing bank was home to the weeds, sirens that cackled wildly in the breeze, alerting the companions of what might greet them on the other side.

Sketch o' the Day ~ The Vulture's Canopy

2007-05-20T18:05:00.000-04:00

click to enlarge
She fashioned her veils according to the patterns she knew, and when that failed, used her own locks when the sky began to fall.

Happy Mother's Day

2007-05-13T17:02:00.000-04:00

For all you mother's raising brothers, this pretty much sums up how things go.

Secret Simon vs. The Smoke

2007-05-08T23:33:00.000-04:00

A podcast. I couldn't breathe much today. I'm feeling better now.

Click to listen: Secret Simon vs. The Smoke

Happy Free Comic Book Day!

2007-05-05T09:30:00.000-04:00

As any good gomo should, I command thee to seek out thy local comics shop and experience the joys of sequential art in all it's glory. You can find local shops and get free comics here: Free Comic Book Day!

2007-05-01T23:50:00.000-04:00

The last of the the old, leeching, cracked fillings were finally removed from her teeth last week. Upon returning that evening to her old, leeching, cracked apartment, the crown fell out in a fit of spite. And she fell to pieces.

She didn't swallow it, as I have done when dealing with loose objects in the mouth, and today they cemented it back in hopefuly stronger than before.

If only I had some of that glue all the king's horses and men were using.

Carbon Copy

2007-04-05T21:13:00.000-04:00

I'm not planning on departure to the next existance anytime soon. However, should I meet my unfortunate demise, after all the useable parts have been extracted, dissected, and studied for the good of science and art of course, somebody please oh please have the good sense to do the natural thing.

And turn my remains into 240 pencils.

2007-03-23T23:00:00.000-04:00

2007-03-22T23:30:00.000-04:00