Pond Scum

Drink it in. It alllllways goes down smooth.

Registered Tex-Offender

Yeah, it's real. And yeah- shortening their curfews is probably a good idea.

Spare Parts

Tonight's the night...dark and rainy...the perfect night for killing. They won't expect us tonight. They'll just hear the rain. But we're ready. Swift. Silent. Deadly. Your rifle is loaded and locked. Your bayonet is fixed. Your eyes study the shadows. Tread lightly. Watch the Marine in front. Repeat the signal. We will make the first move. It's a rush just before it happens. Muzzle flashes and the crack, crack, crack, of rounds. It's a beautiful thing-- a fire-team rush. Face-to-face with the enemy. Get up close if you can. Thrust the bayonet in. Don't forget to twist on the way out. Once you grate ribs you'll know he'll drop. The rainwater mixes with the blood. Dark red at first...then diluted to runny lines of cloudy pink. The smell of wet gunpowder...ahhh, you gotta love that. Savor it. You've done your job. It was him or you. That is what we do. Listen to the rain. Stare into the night. Move on. There are others waiting to die tonight.

Can't stop laughing at 1:10

I am your armor.

It was His to Keep

WHAT!!! Home-made Burzum car-seat covers!!! Grimm. The world must really be coming to an end soon.

Went with Shelley to a resale shop- got some books and THIS. Hung it on the wall, took this shot. The flash blinded out the wall amazingly. It's a Zodiac/seasons representation, and I am in love with it. It looks  incredible. When I look at it my mind instantly goes back to some of the old Sword show posters.Zoom in though- apparently the Leo sign is a sperm?

Outside of our bedroom window.

Same window, one hour later. Wicked.

One of the books I purchased at the resale shop was The Mouse and The Motorcycle. I forgot how much I loved the story. Finished it today, and now I sit here wishing I owned a copy of the short movie. I think Fred Savage was the little boy...

I would get this tattooed on my body so f***ing fast you wouldn't believe it. Such an awesome drawing. Ping-pong ball helmet, fire-engine red steed, hauling serious ass all over the worn carpet of room 215!

Home Depot

Buying the shit that we need.

See ya.

Sinister Kid

Katie then...back when her favorite pastimes were stealing souls and drinking the blood of the innocent.

Katie...now. Drop-dead gorgeous. I know, vampirism isn't for everyone... but I'm just saying! The proof is in the pudding. Glad you've curtailed your cravings, though- those Bear Creek cops were starting to wise up.

For serious... glad you had a dope time at prom, and you look beautiful. Remember what I told you about boys, though. Mark Garcia- not a word!

It's Good to Have Someone to Talk To

Wayne must have repeated that to me five times throughout the course of our stooping it.

Wayne is a mid-sixties, haggard-toothed drink server at the Hilton in the Inner Harbor. But he lives two stoops down. Shelley and I have always seen him stumbling down the street after too many at the bar (and he always said hello) but today was the first time he and I chilled out. You see I always spend part of my evening on the stoop, having a beer and watching the passersby. Wayne saw me and, while holding a beer out to me (he had a six-pack), asked me if he could sit with me and share some stories. I told him to park it and get to the good ones. And did he. Being in the Army, working as a scaffolding erector, never being married but always owning a dog, he bared it all over the course of 45 minutes. We compared work-torn hands, and laughed about how it makes us feel tough. He told some AMAZING jokes (which I will only be able to share once I get back home and am in the company of men only). He gave me some advice, too, and f*** it if it didn't make a lot of sense. We did a lot of talking in the span of a couple beers and cigarettes.

I told him I'd be out on the stoop every evening it's dry (cause I am) and that he is always welcome to join me. And I told him I owed him a beer, since he insisted that I depart with one of his. He said he was glad to meet me, and that it was good to talk to someone who reminded him of home (he's from South Carolina, and has spent a couple lifetimes in Texas, too).

Wayne is a good dude. Kind and light-hearted. But most of all, he is lonely. As he walked away from our doorstep tonight, after yelling bye, he said, "I could sure use a friend". But he didn't say it so much as whisper it.

Cotton Teaches Respect for Women

"Louanne, you will never know if you're attractive...you gotta wait for a man to tell you."

I hate this bitch.

"Grandpa...why aren't we wearing our pants?"
"Cause men can choose whether or not they wanna wear clothes in their own homes."

"Now git me my dinner, woman!"

"...like the time I lost my shins to the Tojos in Dubya Dubya 2? I ever tell you that story, fatty?"

"Bus your tray, Bobby."
"C'mon, that's women's work!"

"Bobby got sent home from school for starting a sexist riot!"

The Hotel Arlen- Hank puts the kaibosh on Cotton's attempt at getting Bobby a whore. "Go on Bobby, pick yourself out a live one!"

Black Magic

Bought the book for cheap because the illustrations seemed really interesting. Hasn't disappointed.

"It should be noted (1) that the tree of sacrifice is living wood, with leaves thereon; (2) that the face expresses deep entrancement, not suffering; (3) that the figure, as a whole, suggests life in suspension, but life and not death."

"The horseman carries no visible weapon, but king and child and maiden fall before him, while a prelate with clasped hands awaits his end."

Bird is the Word

Caught an O's game on a whim today. Got to the stadium half an hour late, and a scalper came running up. Offered me a  $50 ticket for $15 bucks. I said, "Man, that's all the cash I have, this better be legit." And he goes, "Course it's legit! What chu think I stand around hea all day fo!?"

So I did it. turns out it was row 7, section 34: literally 20 feet behind the plate. I could see into both dugouts, make out Vlad's nose hairs, and tell which version of chewing tobacco each player uses. It was f***ing badass. I even got to watch an O's fan heckle Johnny Damon so badly that you could tell it visibly shook him up (Damon struck out that at bat). I also got to listen to two lawyers behind me discuss their representation of the scum of the Earth. Also really rad. Super bummer I didn't bring my camera.

Got back from the game, turned on the tube and caught a skate comp going down on ESPN. The first place purse was 150,000 thousand f***ing dollars. Not kidding. Frost was there, of course.

But so were some sleepers, dudes I worship but never envisioned seeing shred on TV. Pretty sick.

Sickest of all, though: I caught a Real Skateboards commercial! Can't believe they have the money for that. Kinda weird, kinda conflicting, but mostly sick. Max Schaff forever.

TIme is the Seed of the Universe

"In the courtyard of a temple in Delhi there exists, as I have already mentioned, a column made of welded iron parts that has been exposed to weathering for more than 4,000 years without showing a trace of rust. In addition it is unaffected by sulfur or phosphorous. Here we have an unknown alloy from antiquity staring us in the face. Perhaps the column was cast by a group of farsighted engineers who did not have the resources for a colossal building but wanted to bequeath to posterity a visible, time-defying monument to their culture. 

It is an embarrassing story: in advanced cultures of the past we find buildings that we cannot copy today with the most modern technical means. The stone masses are there- they cannot be argued away. Because that which ought not to exist cannot exist, there is a frantic search for 'rational' explanations."

...And It Breaks My Heart...

I burn holes into my body (accidentally) with the welder every single day. I am going to see German thrash metal legends Destruction at Bourbon Street next week (get jealous, Mark!). At least once every couple of weeks, Mark, Dan and I pile into the company truck, drive fifteen minutes heading northeast and visit Cal Ripken Jr.'s place of residence (screaming, "HEY CAAAAAAAAL! as we pass- slowly). My point is, I have become a man's man. That being said, I am as down with this as I have ever been down with anything. Touches me in my (singular) soft spot. Yay Spektor, and YAY to giggly feelings!

Speaking of giggly feelings! The Bean and I got an amazing letter from The Anson a few days ago! Full of nothing but kind words and good thoughts. Anson, I speak for all who have ever met you- we could not be more proud of you (and your coming graduation) and more psyched for ourselves, that we are able to call you a friend. If half of what you said is true, about drawing inspiration and whatnot...well, damn. I'm truly honored! Keep being the type of person you can be proud of, and that others take pleasure in knowing. The other stuff just falls into place! Psyched to hear you're gonna be back in Houston soon- I'll be stopping by soon as well- keep your phone on and we'll grab a beer.

Also, to Kyle and Matt D. (and Anson, too!) - I talked with Mr. Jones a couple of days ago: told him the next time I was down for a stretch, that we would do some shooting. So we are gonna. I won't make a liar out of me if you guys won't...!

"They turn all your bad feelings into good feelings! It's a nightmare!"

Didn't ride, and it was still a really good day. Love when that happens.

Gotta love window-shopping in the city! Pic by the Bean.

In the flesh! "You used up all the glue ON PURPOSE!" Again, pic by the Bean/ i-phone.