Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Knock, Knock, Knockin' on my Effin' Door

The scene unfolded in this manner:


Your Hero sits reading the newspaper, dog napping at his side, after a long day at work. The pounding, while extremely Loud, was Not Loud Enough to Wake the Slumbering Canine (but, one must keep in mind, the English Bulldog is 8 1/2 and most Things will NOT roust him from his forays into Nod; it usually needs to be something in the Aromatic and Highly Edible Department) and, with this AND the fact that my neighbors all hate me, I decided that there was no reason for me to answer the door. Several More strikes to the door followed but, then, silence.

I smirked and returned to my newspaper and the gutteral snorks of the snoring EBD.


Your Hero unleashes an Amplified FUCK ME. Persistent Bastards. Can't take a hint...and to Hell with the Fact that someone is Obviously home (lights on but the shades were down). Fuck.

I abandon my post on the couch, my paper, and the dog and go to answer the door. Fuckers.

It's three little kids and what I assume to be a mother/care provider/parole officer.

She speaks to the one kid standing on my steps closest to the door (and, thus, me).

"Go Ahead."

The lad begins his spiel/pitch.

"Would you like to buy some candy bars to support our Youth Hockey League?"

This is why I got up? This is why they pounded on BOTH of my doors?

Wiping the scowl and accompanying deep set squint quickly from my mug I responded with one of the following (feel free to guess which one):

"My wife neither allows me to eat candy of any kind NOR have money on my person."

"I'm unemployed and diabetic."

"I would but I'm allergic to chocolate and shellfish; your Hockey League wouldn't want my death on their collective heads would they?"

"I recently had gastric bypass surgery and my doctor is a real stickler about sweets."

"A candy bar was the reason behind my father's murder...a candy bar and a crowbar, actually."

"Are they Krackel Bars? If they ain't Krackel I want you off my property NOW. I can't abide the work of the Caramel Industry."

"CHOCOLATE PIG HOLES! CHOCOLATE PIG HOLES! AAAAIIII!!!! The unpuckered Swine recti have been Plucked out of Season! RUN! RUN! RUN!"


Sunday, October 29, 2006

Videos of the Screaming Blue Messiahs

Take me back, man...Best Band you Never Heard....now you can See 'Em too.

Wild Blue Yonder

I Wanna Be A Flintsone (Version One)

I Wanna Be A Flintstone (Version Two)

Bikini Red

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Recent Entries in Pop Culture Prevarications
as proclaimed by this writer

"Jerry Garcia's missing middle finger was actually bitten off by an up and coming Ozzy Osbourne; the Biting a Bat's Head Off Story was concocted to cover-up the scandal and adding an air of Horror to his image...and not cannibalism which might not have proved as popular to the music buying public."

"The final episode of SANFORD AND SON finally revealed to the world/television viewing audience the series long mystery of the Contents of Aunt Esther's Purse; namely, the very soul of Lamont Sanford (Demond Wilson) trapped within an old bottle of Tahitian Treat."

"It is rumored that the Blues Traveller lead singer dude is now off his diet and has turned his harmonica into a slurried meat straw due largely in part to his seeing a live performance of Meatloaf's GRAVY ON D-MINOR TATERS AND LIQUIFIED BEEF."


Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Background Buzz

"...he smells a lot like REO Speedwagon and Ben Gay."

"I get where your nose is spending it's time inhaling, man. I mean, I'd require an analgesic cream rub-down muhself after spending the better part of 30 odd years trying to Keep On Loving You and shit. Imagine the chaffing alone in that endeavor...I swear muh thighs are shuddering jez thinkin' 'bout it. S'pose that's also why they conceded the battle since they Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore...the feeling is probably deep tissue bruising and impacted genitals."

"I wasn't talking about the BAND and the genesis of some of their hits...I was talking about this dude that smells like what I'd imagine the Collective Stink of REO would be combined with Ben Gay."

"What the fuck would 70s Rock Gods smell like? A carton of eggs left under the backseat of a Chevelle?

"Right...but with the slightest Tinge of medicinal cream smeared liberally in the dank recesses of some random guy's armpits, y'know?"

"Wait...who eats eggs in their car? Especially with lubed up pits? I'd imagine the slicked up nature of one's underarms would lead to a LOT of dropped eggs."

"That's probably what led to his particular aroma. Ill-Aimed Egg Consumption with musical accompaniment suppled by REO. You could probably argue that their tunes inspire one to smell bad."

"I'd theorize that putting the eggs in your earholes might stave off this unwanted aurally-invoked smellage, whether you're in a car or not."


Monday, October 23, 2006

More Scanner Fun (circa 1999)

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Warming Up: Today's "Doodle"

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Friday, October 20, 2006

More Scanner fun (sketch circa 1999)

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Another Sketch Book Entry (circa 1998)

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Thursday, October 19, 2006


Wednesday, October 18, 2006

More Scanner Fun: A Page from 1998

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Tuesday, October 17, 2006

More Scanner Fun: A Doodle circa early 1998

Monday, October 16, 2006

Album Covers

Saturday, October 14, 2006

An old comic I drew back in the late 80s/early 90s entitled SMEAGOL DREAMS

Friday, October 13, 2006

A True Tale from TIP's Backyard that Happened Today!

Whilst raking, an older man appeared in my backyard.

Man: I was knocking on your door but there wasn't an answer.

Me (looks at rake first): ...

Man: I deliver meat to Luella.

Me (heh heh heh): ...

Man: She buys it and I deliver it.

Me: ...

Man: Do you like meat.

Me: ...

Man: Do you want to buy some from my company?

Me: ...

Man: It's really inexpensive even with delivery and...

Me: Get the hell out of my yard! I am NOT going to buy unsolicited MEAT from some self-avowed door-to-door-SO-CALLED-Meat-Seller-Weirdo that appeared unannounced in MY YARD EVEN IF my widowed Neighbor DOES do so and apparently likes the service. FUCK!

Man (leaves)

Me (returns to raking leaves but in a much better mood)

Hagar Week: Days Five and Six

Missed yesterday...my bad (motor scooter).

One more Van Hagar selection; one extolling the virtues of a particular foodstuff


from For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge

and, finally, the celebratory tune

Ten 13

from the same titled album.

Happy BD, SH!


Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Hagar Week: Day Four

Let's go ALL THE WAY back to Sammy's time in Montrose, shall we.

Bad Motor Scooter


Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Hagar Week: Day Three

A bit off the path...but a live version of

Sammy Hagar Weekend

as performed by The Supersuckers.



Monday, October 09, 2006

Hagar Week: Day Two

Some Van Hagar for the Kids:

Finish What Ya Started


Sunday, October 08, 2006

In Honor of Sammy Hagar's Birthday this Week

Here's a tune from his latest album LIVIN' IT UP

Sam I Am

And another from MARCHING TO MARS

Little White Lies


Thursday, October 05, 2006

Potential Foodie in the Family

Going through some files of my late uncle, Umberto, I discovered a secret stash (in a folder misleadingly labeled IGLOO REPAIR, SHUNK THE ALEUTIAN, SEAL ANATOMY IDENTIFICATION) of a 100 or so different photos of the late crooning sensation, Bing Crosby, eating a wide assortment of sandwiches and sandwich-related foodstuffs. One particularly dog-eared pic depicts him clutching a hoagie on the set of his film ROAD TO MOROCCO with the caption (presumably written by my uncle) A GRASP THAT LEAVES ME GASPING scrawled in a shaky hand on the back. Another shows Bing practically unhinging his own jaw taking in a triple-stacked sandwich with YOU MAKE DAGWOOD LOOK LIKE A BITCH, GORGING-BUH-BUH-BUH-BABY scribbled across the bottom. The hell kind of secret...fetish...was this fellow harboring? Where'd all the pictures come from? Is there a market for this sort of thing?