Monday, September 10, 2012
Sketchy
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
The Crimson Ghost
Us here in Philadelphia would like to think we've got a great sense of humor. Vice Magazine never fumbles with the unique and comically off-putting articles they write and print. Two thumbs way up.
In light of my recent visitor, I figured what better way to celebrate than to do a little coverage on the issue. With help from awesome photographer Emma Arvida Bystrom and her candidly taboo series of photos featured in Vice's - "There Will Be Blood", I give you; The Crimson ghost, in not one, but seven pictures that speaks volumes to our monthly* tax pay to good ole' Mother Nature.
*thank you love.
In light of my recent visitor, I figured what better way to celebrate than to do a little coverage on the issue. With help from awesome photographer Emma Arvida Bystrom and her candidly taboo series of photos featured in Vice's - "There Will Be Blood", I give you; The Crimson ghost, in not one, but seven pictures that speaks volumes to our monthly* tax pay to good ole' Mother Nature.
*thank you love.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Technology, How I Hate Thee
Let me count the ways...
Everyone loves and praises you oh so much. Quite frankly, I think you're overrated, vapid, and in/directly responsible for the lack of genuine communication between people. Surreeee, you connect strangers and loved ones throughout the country and the world---really impressive, I'll give you that. I'll give you the evolving beauty of science technology and other madcap engineering projects. You can send things in and out of space, but you can't fucking load a page on a 4 year old MAC in less than 15 seconds. You can see inside of the human body without puncturing it, but you can't fucking restore text messages in a phone after powering it back up. What the hell is going on? Is it me? Do ya just hate meee? I try to be patient and give you the benefit of the doubt, "Maybe this time it'll work." "Maybe the 14th time it'll work!"
"MAYBE IF I JUST PUT MY FUCKING FIST THROUGH THIS FUCKING SCREEN, IT'LL WORK!!!"
And it isn't always me being a retard and unable to figure things out either. Not always. And you're not exactly always idiot-proof either, like you promise to be. You're a real kick in the crotch! Everything from faulty GPS's, iPhones & Droids, computer glitches and even your hand in making humans have less attention span than they already acquired, I blame you for all of this. I blame you for frustrating people everywhere, causing a grumpy ripple from an office on the west coast, to a laptop somewhere on the east.
Ironically, you were supposed to make things easier but it seems like it's just more difficult. I'm not even going to discuss your stupid fucking Kiosk system that the entire world is adopting. What happened to just putting fucking quarters in the meter?! I didn't think anything was wrong with that system! Park, add quarters, walk away. What's simpler than that? 'Noooo, let's make it mind numbingly complicated' --- you had this bright fuckin' idea to have people park, walk up to this device like an ass and attempt to figure out how to digitally punch in that they'll only be parked for 15 minutes. And of course, people aren't used to them, so a line begins to form. Then people start getting frustrated that the dick at the front of the line can't figure it out, only for them to become a dick because they can't figure the shit out either! BUT WAIT!!! THERE'S MORE! After you wait in this stupid ass line of dismay, you then have to walk back to your vehicle and put your "Kiosk slip" on your dashboard. Tell me again, how this has made parking..or... life easier?
Maybe I'm expecting too much from you. Maybe I just expect all digital and technological devices to work and not fuck up. Kinks will occur everywhere and in virtually everything. I understand this. I get it. But what I don't fucking compute is how you religiously fuck with me. hah! It's possible I need to re-evaluate my possessions and maybe upgrade some things, but my Droid is only six months old! Does that translate to six years in Bizarro Technology World?
Fuck you very much for your random shut downs, your crashing, your "auto correct" which isn't even the word I wanted to spell anyway--DUMMY, your slow loading of ANYTHING, your wheel of death, your freezing, your anti-virus/spy software that works just as hard as an unemployed person collecting disability and lastly fuck you very, very much for pissing in my cereal anytime I actually count on you to cooperate with me.
You're a backhanded compliment wrapped in a golden bow.
Everyone loves and praises you oh so much. Quite frankly, I think you're overrated, vapid, and in/directly responsible for the lack of genuine communication between people. Surreeee, you connect strangers and loved ones throughout the country and the world---really impressive, I'll give you that. I'll give you the evolving beauty of science technology and other madcap engineering projects. You can send things in and out of space, but you can't fucking load a page on a 4 year old MAC in less than 15 seconds. You can see inside of the human body without puncturing it, but you can't fucking restore text messages in a phone after powering it back up. What the hell is going on? Is it me? Do ya just hate meee? I try to be patient and give you the benefit of the doubt, "Maybe this time it'll work." "Maybe the 14th time it'll work!"
And it isn't always me being a retard and unable to figure things out either. Not always. And you're not exactly always idiot-proof either, like you promise to be. You're a real kick in the crotch! Everything from faulty GPS's, iPhones & Droids, computer glitches and even your hand in making humans have less attention span than they already acquired, I blame you for all of this. I blame you for frustrating people everywhere, causing a grumpy ripple from an office on the west coast, to a laptop somewhere on the east.
Ironically, you were supposed to make things easier but it seems like it's just more difficult. I'm not even going to discuss your stupid fucking Kiosk system that the entire world is adopting. What happened to just putting fucking quarters in the meter?! I didn't think anything was wrong with that system! Park, add quarters, walk away. What's simpler than that? 'Noooo, let's make it mind numbingly complicated' --- you had this bright fuckin' idea to have people park, walk up to this device like an ass and attempt to figure out how to digitally punch in that they'll only be parked for 15 minutes. And of course, people aren't used to them, so a line begins to form. Then people start getting frustrated that the dick at the front of the line can't figure it out, only for them to become a dick because they can't figure the shit out either! BUT WAIT!!! THERE'S MORE! After you wait in this stupid ass line of dismay, you then have to walk back to your vehicle and put your "Kiosk slip" on your dashboard. Tell me again, how this has made parking..or... life easier?
Maybe I'm expecting too much from you. Maybe I just expect all digital and technological devices to work and not fuck up. Kinks will occur everywhere and in virtually everything. I understand this. I get it. But what I don't fucking compute is how you religiously fuck with me. hah! It's possible I need to re-evaluate my possessions and maybe upgrade some things, but my Droid is only six months old! Does that translate to six years in Bizarro Technology World?
Fuck you very much for your random shut downs, your crashing, your "auto correct" which isn't even the word I wanted to spell anyway--DUMMY, your slow loading of ANYTHING, your wheel of death, your freezing, your anti-virus/spy software that works just as hard as an unemployed person collecting disability and lastly fuck you very, very much for pissing in my cereal anytime I actually count on you to cooperate with me.
You're a backhanded compliment wrapped in a golden bow.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Japanese Gamer Prints
If you're anything like myself, you enjoy the diversity of things being spun in different light. Take for instance, the remix of a song or in this case, video games being conceptualized into traditional Japanese prints. How fuckin' cool, right? Above, you will see Mario Kart. Give a click to the link below to see other awesome favorites.
Japanese Prints of Modern Video Games
Monday, July 23, 2012
AMBIVATION
I used to have this thing once, I think I can remember the word... hmm, oh there it goes! It was called motivation. That silly little four syllable word. It went very well with that other word, that I have a lot of... three syllables.... mmm... starts with an "A"... derrr... AMBITION--aha!
Yes, yes. What is either without the other? What is having drive without being driven, or driving--or just moving?? Just an idle entity with endless thoughts, that never manifest.
There's a fine line between desiring personal achievement and actually executing it. I get lost in the very middle. It took me some time to decide which of my quirky little artistic abilities I wanted to hone in on and actually dedicate myself to. Once I realized which ones meant the most to me, it should've been easy from there, right? Well, maybe not easy, but definitely should've set me on the right track. But ya see, I ping pong. I'll begin a novel and when I hit a wall, I'll bounce over to painting. Then once that painting is complete, I'll pick up my vocal training again. Then once I've nailed a song to my liking, I'll want to learn a new dance choreography. Once that whole bit is done, maybe I've gotten some new material and will want to either A) Finish a script I started or B) Create an entire new script. All the while--completely forgetting, consciously or subconsciously, about my original goal--which was to complete my novel. Or anything I begin, for that matter...
It's a slippery slope and that good friend of mine, Mr. Five Syllable Word; procrastination--has kept me nice and toasty for some time. "I'll do it tomorrow", should be tattooed on my goddamn forehead.
And just like the sign in the bar that reads; "Free beer tomorrow"... tomorrow is never today. And tomorrow continues to be tomorrow, for---::looks at watch-less wrist::---years now. I suppose the lack of help from my friends & peers doesn't exactly light a fire under my ass, and it's an excuse I've been cosying up with for quite some time. I can't put the blame on my fellow unmotivated pals, though, completing a project would be eons faster and more entertaining with others who actually gave a damn. But it's gotta start within me. If I give a damn, I'll put the effort into finding others that give a damn. And dammit, that's what I need to do.
One thing, turning my scary age has taught me, is to just get up and go.* Get up and do. And as I ascend to a point in my life that makes me extremely happy, I'm finding inspiration and motivation coming easier. Almost as if, once I stopped focusing on how unfocused I was, I zeroed in on 'doing' and that has raised my stock immensely.**
One of these days*** I'm going to go back over all of my 20 years of writing. I'm going to edit it, I'm going to most importantly, finish it and I'm going to begin submitting again. I remember having such a thrill when competing and/or mailing my little words to Anthologies! Then the rush of winning, or making top 10, or being published and seeing your brainchild printed on pages you didn't print. :)
The feeling of hoping that your words inspire or help someone. Then follows the feeling of not just hoping that your words inspire, but knowing that they do.
I miss that.
*Then again, no other age has ever stopped me before.
**Just need to get that punctuation, run-on sentence & basic full mechanics of writing back down. I'm ten years out of class. And barely attended then. Damn... so that means I'm roughly 13 years out. Tisk, tisk. I need to take a fucking english course again. hahah! Ahhh, rambling.. ramble, rambles. They call me Mr. Bo-Rambles.
***Oh, here we go again...
Yes, yes. What is either without the other? What is having drive without being driven, or driving--or just moving?? Just an idle entity with endless thoughts, that never manifest.
There's a fine line between desiring personal achievement and actually executing it. I get lost in the very middle. It took me some time to decide which of my quirky little artistic abilities I wanted to hone in on and actually dedicate myself to. Once I realized which ones meant the most to me, it should've been easy from there, right? Well, maybe not easy, but definitely should've set me on the right track. But ya see, I ping pong. I'll begin a novel and when I hit a wall, I'll bounce over to painting. Then once that painting is complete, I'll pick up my vocal training again. Then once I've nailed a song to my liking, I'll want to learn a new dance choreography. Once that whole bit is done, maybe I've gotten some new material and will want to either A) Finish a script I started or B) Create an entire new script. All the while--completely forgetting, consciously or subconsciously, about my original goal--which was to complete my novel. Or anything I begin, for that matter...
It's a slippery slope and that good friend of mine, Mr. Five Syllable Word; procrastination--has kept me nice and toasty for some time. "I'll do it tomorrow", should be tattooed on my goddamn forehead.
And just like the sign in the bar that reads; "Free beer tomorrow"... tomorrow is never today. And tomorrow continues to be tomorrow, for---::looks at watch-less wrist::---years now. I suppose the lack of help from my friends & peers doesn't exactly light a fire under my ass, and it's an excuse I've been cosying up with for quite some time. I can't put the blame on my fellow unmotivated pals, though, completing a project would be eons faster and more entertaining with others who actually gave a damn. But it's gotta start within me. If I give a damn, I'll put the effort into finding others that give a damn. And dammit, that's what I need to do.
One thing, turning my scary age has taught me, is to just get up and go.* Get up and do. And as I ascend to a point in my life that makes me extremely happy, I'm finding inspiration and motivation coming easier. Almost as if, once I stopped focusing on how unfocused I was, I zeroed in on 'doing' and that has raised my stock immensely.**
One of these days*** I'm going to go back over all of my 20 years of writing. I'm going to edit it, I'm going to most importantly, finish it and I'm going to begin submitting again. I remember having such a thrill when competing and/or mailing my little words to Anthologies! Then the rush of winning, or making top 10, or being published and seeing your brainchild printed on pages you didn't print. :)
The feeling of hoping that your words inspire or help someone. Then follows the feeling of not just hoping that your words inspire, but knowing that they do.
I miss that.
*Then again, no other age has ever stopped me before.
**Just need to get that punctuation, run-on sentence & basic full mechanics of writing back down. I'm ten years out of class. And barely attended then. Damn... so that means I'm roughly 13 years out. Tisk, tisk. I need to take a fucking english course again. hahah! Ahhh, rambling.. ramble, rambles. They call me Mr. Bo-Rambles.
***Oh, here we go again...
Friday, July 6, 2012
Benedict Arnold
Mothers and daughters, mothers and daughters...
I tell ya! There's a certain amount of self-righteousness going on around here that I'm not fully equipped to handle or be exposed to. What the fuck is this shit? Your guilty conscience gets the best of you when confronted by a 3rd party and I'm automatically to blame, eh? It couldn't have ANYTHING to do with your complete predictable pattern of jumping ship anytime things get emotionally hard, right? Ha! This is laughable! And so are you! Preaching scriptures on public websites, then walking, and talking, a totally different tight rope. Get your shit together. Your problems aren't mine, though there was a time when I'd take them on right there with you. Let's not pretend you haven't turned your back on your children before, and would likely do it again if the right swinging dick with the plump bank account came along.
I love how funny people act when the taste of salty inaccuracy fills their mouth. Choking the spirit, and therefore tangling their words. Leaving them with nothing to fucking say. Nothing at all but extra air in their mouth. Exactly! Shut the fuck up and just don't tell me your dirt.
Better yet---how about not create any. That IS what a good woman does right? Someone raised me to understand that. I don't know what happened to her...
Saturday, June 30, 2012
The Fool Rambles
So, you know that feeling when you're really dirty and sweaty after a long day of working or being outside and doing.. ..Oh I dunno, something like gardening work or building a small village? And you come home and take that nice shower? Well, whether you get your 'oohs and ahhs' from the feeling of the cool water hitting your skin, or the feeling of stepping out of the shower & that refreshing air hitting you...but that's precisely how I'm feeling right now. However you wanna play it or say it. That's me right now. He makes me feel like "first water contact/after shower fresh air". A complete plateau of enticing, overjoyed happiness. Escalating with every passing second. Just getting better and better. Mmmmf! So much better and better. ::makes eye squinting happy face::
My, my, the joy! He is so over the top sexy and funny and smart, I can't help but profess my complete admiration for him. He deserves every word and every thought, and definitely every kiss.
It's one of those things where I feel amazed simply at the idea of him existing. And something that began as just a quick 'hello' combusted into me having to find out for myself just how incredible this person is, and then hopping a plane to do so. I had to see. Ya know, whether he was really real or not. I wanted to taste the amazement on my lips, wanted to witness first hand exactly how the beast slept, I wanted to be able to feel this "so-called chemistry" explode between us, not only via words, texts and conversation, but also through actual presence and simply being near each other. I just needed to see. I had to find out. I couldn't be curious. I refused to be.
What I've discovered you ask?
I've come up with some pretty interesting stuff... Interesting to say the very least.
I'm happy!
"When we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness - and call it love - true love "
~Robert Fulghum~
My, my, the joy! He is so over the top sexy and funny and smart, I can't help but profess my complete admiration for him. He deserves every word and every thought, and definitely every kiss.
It's one of those things where I feel amazed simply at the idea of him existing. And something that began as just a quick 'hello' combusted into me having to find out for myself just how incredible this person is, and then hopping a plane to do so. I had to see. Ya know, whether he was really real or not. I wanted to taste the amazement on my lips, wanted to witness first hand exactly how the beast slept, I wanted to be able to feel this "so-called chemistry" explode between us, not only via words, texts and conversation, but also through actual presence and simply being near each other. I just needed to see. I had to find out. I couldn't be curious. I refused to be.
What I've discovered you ask?
Source: Uploaded by user via Alex on Pinterest
I've come up with some pretty interesting stuff... Interesting to say the very least.
I'm happy!
"When we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness - and call it love - true love "
~Robert Fulghum~
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