Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Breasts in Red and Black

Tiny Alien Humans Babies Everywhere

Everybody's having babies
but Kori and I
it's ok with me
I don't want a little guy
even one as cute
as Lucas or Huxsley
or Winston or Odin
who are far from Ugly
The barf and spit
fart and shit
lay there and gurgle
for the fun of it
lovely to look at
but not to hold
and anyway I think
I'm just too damn old
Seriously, sometimes I wonder why any of my pals let me point a camera at one of their kids, because for some reason they almost always come out looking like aliens.

Me and My clone, Mini E

My roomate Kate came as me to the Halloween Party last weekend.
Well, as half me, since she's about half my weight and half my age.
It's rather odd to look out from the stage and see your MiniMe walking around.
Bitch looks a lot cuter than me too!

Tattoo, with Shadows and Sunshine, August 2007

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Heastock Barbies

Hot glued to the headstock, the shrunken heads wanted to scream, but had no lungs.
All night they bounced up and down, terrified by the loud music and rude people.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Alien Babies Will Find You No Matter Where You Hide

You cannot hide from Alien Baby.
Not in your closet
not under your bed
he will find you
he never stops looking
he may pee on you
he may barf on you
but he'll find you
and if you're not mom
and lunch, he's gonna be pissed
and fill your head
with shrieks and howls
from his baby jowls
no, you cannot hide

Rockin' out at Wonder's Pub for Halloween

We played at Wonder's Pub Saturday, the yearly Halloween Party.
VO-5, The Motor Primitives and our band, The Sigourny Weavers.
I had fun. I glued barbie heads all over my guitar, and flashing LED lights and glow sticks.
My ears are still ringing. Shit, then again, they always ring. Old age sucketh mightily, even if I still can rock out rude.

My Peak Experience With a Chili Dog

I love chili dogs and fries and Mountain Dew. While driving through Marquette, Michigan, a crumbling old town slowly being eaten around the edges by garbage fast food joints run by giant corparate greed pigs, we spied The Coney Station.
All gleaming stainless steel and retro bar stool filled, it managed to have a new look with a very old vibe. As we pulled in, they put the open sign up and we had this fine 11 am breakfast, and before devouring this fine lookin' pile of truly American food, I took a few photos.
They really do the classic chili dog and fries about as good as it could ever be. There's a purity to this that is almost never seen in fast food these days.

My new pal big H and his lunch counter

"Sometimes a scream is better than a thesis." Ralph Waldo Emerson