When About Girls - Odd to Ask of Lacking

Originally intended to be a throwaway status update on Facebook, shit didn't fit so here into my blog it goes.

A question was asked of me just a few minutes ago and it was an odd one at that. Why was it odd? Considering my non-never-non-non-event status one would figure that everyone who knows of me would pick up the "ill aura" and fall into line. This question being "Why don't you have a girlfriend?" I reply simply "Girls don't like me." (Then proceeded to singing a verse from this evening's newly written song, FMFY.) This status update makes it official. "And if ya don't know, now you know, nigga." At least to all those connected to my Facebook account. Ain't that juicy? =P

Take Away This Toaster of Mine

Please
Take away
This toaster of mine
For it sits
Having never toasted toast
And though many
Yes many
Slices of bread are seen
Are
To be
Seen
Have Been
Seen
My toaster sits
Having never toasted
See?

For no slice of bread
(In their right mind)
Would willingly slip
Into
This toaster of mine
For warped and weary
Sad and teary
Line the inside of
This toaster that
Has never toasted toast
Though still burns hot
The wires
Transmission of
Some toasty admire
This toaster has held warmth
For many

Yet

For no one

Having never toasted toast

So please
Please
Please
Take away
This toaster of mine
For it sits
and has been sitting
and will be sitting
Having never toasted toast
Nary
Has bread any bread
That bread
and
that bread
Known
of this toaster of mine
And the warmth
It may bring
In toasty good intent
Better to be gone than
To burn hot
For many

Yet

For no one

This toaster serves me ill
And though it works well

It is broken still

For broken am I

So please
Oh please
Take away this toaster of mine

Bitters Into Popcorn

"Comedy is good. Comedy helps flip those lesser bitters into buttery-yum-buttery popcorn. Enjoy." =P =D

Ooh what bitters of whose bitters?

Click here to view a scene from Dumb & Dumber.

O She of Humble

O she of humble stature
O how she walks on so
In thought she hath entered
A giant of this world
And great be her presence
And great be her name
For upon remembrance

I smile

Oh she of humble nature
O how she talks on so
In this existence entered
A lady of this world
And divine be her presence
And divine be her name
For upon the thought of her

I smile

Oh she of humble lovely fair
O how she handles so
In knowing she hath entered
A sovereign of this world
And fervent be her presence
And fervent be her name
For upon having known
Yes
She is there

I rejoice

So who be
This
Awesome humble queen
Do think

She may never know

(Because I'm a tool)
(End poem) =P

Go Fly Good Deed

For she departs this night yet I am not on the same flight. To the Philippines she flies. The original plan destroyed by a now known LIE. Let it now be KNOWN TO ALL that yes oh yes this was to be the night of my return to where I am truly happy and that through tears were words said that were all but promised, words that would bring me back to my mind's fortune. As tears dry and are forgotten so are the pat-pat good deed possibilities offered by men. Or mothers.

'Tis easy to say that good will be done.

But proven on this night.

Proven on this missed flight.

Proven by what I now fucking write . . .

to commit to the good deed said shows the true nature of a man. Or mother.

To break the good deed all but promised shows the deteriorated nature of a man. Or mother.

Let it be KNOWN TO ALL that YES this was to be the night of my return flight to my mind's fortune.

Keep in mind folks these words of how to commit to the good deed:

Say what you mean and mean what you say.

Life on a lie is a lie of a life.



Now who the fuck are you?

Have you promised to make one fly? Or do you tease the mere chance of flight and laugh at crushed hope? Crush on you fucking cunts for I NOW KNOW there indeed exists . . .

PEOPLE MORE BROKEN THAN I.

For I WRITE what I mean and mean what I WRITE
Although I am not on this night's flight
When I write
I FLY, FLY, FLY!

And you can't crush that.

Neither man.

Nor mother.

Fuckers.

Where ever you are. Where ever you may be. Enjoy your flight.

So Joy Be the Others?

It is unfair, yes, for the loner to find himself amongst people and see that there is indeed joy to be found outside of his one-man kingdom. The previous occupation of "joy" in solitary drift possibly replaced by the smiles of others. Real smiles too. The loner smiles for himself, yes but when the loner sees he can make others smile . . .

it's a far greater joy.

It really is.

And it's really unfair.

Why?

I should have figured this shit out sooner.

Fuck you, Lacking.

Ahhhh crap . . .

=P heh heh heh, dum dum

Modern Lovely

Modern Lovely

Still thinking of you
Kind all kind in all 5 feet of you
How can humble take so
Much space in my typically tumbling mind
And there you stand so steady
Calming my typically tumbling mind
Oh what a find!
Hey!
Oh what a find!
Hey!

You're a treasure of the age
A wondrous treasure of the age
The modern lovely of the day

You're such a marvel
Look up to the awe that is 10 feet of you
Monument spiff articulation
Oh so you CoD and be cappin' those fools?
But you don't do DiVinyls?
Yup that's mindfucking adorable
Oh what a find!
Hey!
Oh what a find!
Hey!

You're a treasure of the age
A wondrous treasure of the age
The modern lovely of the day

When I wander off you call my name
Yes it's joy to hear you call my name

You're a treasure of the age
A wondrous treasure of the age
The modern lovely of the day
The modern lovely of the day
The modern lovely of the day

Recluse Pop Quiz

Good times with good people is better than

A) reading a good book . . . by yourself.

B) watching a good movie . . . by yourself.

C) listening to good music . . . by yourself.

D) all of the above . . . by yourself.

E) Undecided. By Yourself.

F) by yourself.

"D. Yeah D. Yeah. Maybe. I dunno. I'm undecided on the undecided."

Buddha Hex FingerPaints

J Buddha came by and we had a rouse with the ol' Little Caesar's Pizza cardboard-made Hex board. The game picture above was the beginnings of the 19th match; we were tied 9-9. Who ended up winning? Who else?

There's a reason she's The Enlightened One. =P

12-9, J Buddha.

She's really fun to play Hex with with moves that'll make ya check yo mind, monkey! =P

Also pictured is Mug Eeyore and my three bottles of finger paints. Buddha was kind enough to apply the red, green and black to my nails (after having sat out, unopened since their purchase a month ago at Sally's) in the following set:

LEFT HAND

• Pinkie: Green
• Middle: Black
• Index: Black

RIGHT HAND

• Pinkie: Black
• Ring: Red
• Middle: Black

The other nails were left bare which peeved Buddha since it's such an peculiar look for her. I tells her "Yeap and the bare/painted scattered look is what tweaks my mind good. Every time I look at it it amuses me." =) =P

Manila Then . . .

‎"At the dinner table I glanced over and saw Uma checkin' this video out on her iPad. Pretty darn cool." =)

For Hath Passed Randall Mario Poffo . . .

but Macho Madness lives!!!!

"Oooooooohhh Yeeeaaaaaahh!!"

Keep poppin' that Diving Elbow Drop on those jobbers, Mach!

The 8o's, the 9o's, 2000 and into the Twilight Zone!

Macho Madness goes on and on! =)

HC_Sadako

I received my Etsy-ordered hair clip in the mail today! Hey no funny looks, man! This dude's gotta keep his long hair in check! Regulate!! Hah! =P

Inspired by today's Woohoo package reception I went ahead and photoshopped a new self-portrait. It seems to be a cozy time to get-a-clickin' with the filters and layers again. When I load up the 'Shop and get in the zone 'tis a good feeling, it is! =)

Here, I present to you . . .

HC_Sadako

[sidenote: an assist goes to Nurseaporean for indirectly naming this self-portrait. "Sadako!" Bulaga!! =P ]

Lacking Attacking Hall & Oates

With strum-diggity-strum-strum I totally just did a cover of a Hall & Oates song.

Can you guess which one?

Time to clue on in, Lackeys . . .

(Try a guess after each hint)

- It was a #1 song on the Billboard

- It was released as a single in the 198o's

- It ain't Maneater. (Given my own troubles with women you'd figure this would be it and you'd be right but that's a negative, Ghostrider.)

So shall I go on and tell ya? Nahhhh . . . that would be unfair. I can't go for that. No can do. =l

Keeper of the Sun

Hello. Welcome. =)

Today I have for you musical accompaniment to go along with your reading of this particular blog post.

Go on, press play. ;)

So the sun came out. =)

For in this blog is a complaint and in return by way of voodoo goobahdaroo . . . the skies cleared. Thank you.

Bye-bye a-hole clouds. You're not total assholes but ganging up on the sun like that? COME ON! Cheaters.

To honor this stupendous act of bitching and mother nature's response to said bitching I took a shot of the sun and I play for keeps. I play for keeps! The clouds will flex their muscles. They will roll their shoulders. They will mug the sun with all their vaporous aggression!

But on this day

the sun shines glorious!

And I am the

Keeper of the Sun

[sidenote: Although Here Comes the Sun audio-filled this post I was actually busting out this picture to the album of one Swedish rock band, Silverbullit. The music soaring through as I clicked, erased, layered the sungrab funk was their 2nd album "Citizen Bird." The first track off the album is Glory.]

Arrival of the Knife-Lighter

Pick Jacker-Upper Writes 3

Hi and hello, Lackeys.

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday saw the birth of 3 - count 'em THREE! - new songs. They are (in the daily order written):

Kumamaru (a.k.a. Pretty Mindball Breaker)

Pulelehua Moke

Be Wary o ye Bridge Jumper

Yes they were recorded immediately after the basic structure was set for the sake of remembering. My memory is so shot that if I sweep the floor or eat a bag of Cheetos or some other non-consequential activity I'll forget how the song is actually played. The rhythm is lost. As is the melody. The post-forgotten strumming is a mad kah-chuck, kah-chucking! in desperation to find what was lost. My face gets contorted,

I stomp a foot. A few "Ah fucks" are thrown around. Don't bring all the little childins around when I lose a song . . . it ain't PG. =P

Now on to strumming. In the release of frustrations to the intended tune the process goes from brain (garr!) down to the arm (jahh!) to the fingers (hahhh!) to pick to string (ARGHH!). So string is strung and the bomb is out. I don't claim to play the guitar. Nope. I strum the guitar. Yup.

And I tend to strum hard.

The red pick to the left is what a "normal" guitar pick looks like. The pink guitar pick to the right is what is left after a couple of weeks of strum-diggity-cha-cha ARGHH! Whittled away, bombed out degraded, the pink plucky is left with a sad, sore stub. It is so short that sometimes the fingernail on my index finger catches a string and is pulled away in ragged pain during a hard chugging rhythm. Yow. What's the opposite of the joyous expression Woohoo? Hoowoo . . . that's it. Fingernail tearing is Hoowoo.

So three more songs down, more stuff written. All is well. Aside from the cold overcast weather. I want to be lounging outside in the backyard again with the bright, warm sun shining upon my fat, flabby ass and my favorite music rushing loudly out of the playroom speakers.

"Come on SUN! Out wit it, mang!!"

Those clouds are total assholes.

Be Wary o ye Bridge Jumper

So here I am I'm standing

The Bay below I'm wondering

When I jump the rush will keep me high

From Golden Gate I step off and say goodbye

Goodbye! Goodbye goodbye!

Goodbye! Goodbye goodbye!

So here I am I'm jumping

The Bay below the sky shuddering

For I have jumped and I now fall

God damn gone fucked it all I scream

Goodbye? Goodbye goodbye?

Goodbye?! Goodbye goodbye?!

So here I am I'm falling

The Bay below the sharks hungry

I gone fucked up I wanted to fly

Thinking

Feeling so good will keep me high

But now it's really

Goodbye?! Goodbye goodbye?!?

Goodbye?! Goodbye ah shit!!

So here I am I'm dying

The Bay & Bridge are crying

WHOA I feel a tug on my back

My body lifts up feet from Bay impact

Huhhh? . . . Ohhhhh!! . . .

Oh I fly? I fly I fly?

Yeah fly! I fly I fly!

I'm flying!

I'm flying yeah!!

Feeling so high

Feeling so good that I'm

I'm flying flying flying flying

Pulelehua Moke

Pulelehua Moke

Fly fly butterfly

She's blind butterfly

So fine this butterfly

My kind of butterfly

But she can't see me

She flies freely

This queen wahine

I want to know all the things you like

What interests you what things that make you fly

Pulelehua Moke

An 8 by 5 of butterfly

In gangsta threads the Crip kind

She's looking tough but also fine

I'm kinda scared but lucky I she's blind

And she can't see me

She flies freely

This queen wahine

I want to know all the things you like

What interests you what things that make you fly

Pulelehua Moke

Please don't beat me up

For writing this song

I don't how else to tell ya girl

Kumamaru (a.k.a. Pretty Mindball Breaker)

She's a

Shinzo bureka for me

She's a

Vagina-armed fiend

And ya

Know what I mean

She'll be around

(Looking pretty)

And make you frown

(Kick to the mindballs)

Oohhhh

She's so

Puriti to me

I wanna

Yeah be her scene

She'll play

Ha ha ha ha mislead

She'll stand around

(Knowing she's pretty)

And keep you down

(Laughing cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt)

You fucking koshu benjo I hope ya

Uh

Nah

Nevermind

You falsify

To be kind

Go away

Let me keep mine

So stop acting nice to me

I'd like to keep my balls intact

You Japanese bitch

8 Songs Recorded & the Surprise Online Debut of 1

Yesterday I stood in the playroom with the netbook on top of the old-school big screen boxy television. Audacity was up and the usb mic for Rock Band was jacked into the netbook.

Click record, strum the guitar and sing what I wrote.

Repeat 7 more times.

I believe the order of recording was:

When I Collide with People

Tulog Na Tayo

Oh Woe the Wicked Spiders

Because of Chatting with You

Plush Toy Song

Sorrow See it

Girl Perfect and the Elusive Slumber

Two Stars

(Don't hold me to it though. My memory is atrocious, order of attack is iffy.) =P

Since she's been so supportive of everything I do and such a good pare I sent over all 8 songs to Nurse at midnight. By 8:something in the morning I'm up and she sends me a link through YM and to my surprise . . .

Thank you, pare. =P

Habitual LS

The Big Bird Arm of Sage

Sage sat without strap for 1 week and 3 days. She had no strap nor a G-string. I know what you're thinking, ODB but get your McGirt out of the Dirt. I picked her up occasionally. Disappointed I was for it felt incomplete without the wraparound grab to the body. I held her but the guitar did not reciprocate the tender grasp. How could she? Sage was incapable. For search of Sage's arms I went. Many options were available. I contemplated what current look would match the mind of the madman Lacking. The strap for Dear Prudence was purchased in a music store in Santa Barbara in moments of Prozac-chugging mania. Wide-eyed and jumping I found Prudence's arms in the clarity of SSRI prescription delighted.

So what arms of Sage should I grant her with? Prudence has a strap of a vision on LSD. Mushrooms and a hyper-cheerful sun smiling high. Many suns for Sage? Why yes. But the bid on that flew over my head. Two stars? That's a sunny outlook and is in reference to the song Two Stars. Alas the bid on that too went right by, my attention distracted by other goings-on in life.

Finally a strap of stripy disposition in alternating yellow and orange makes itself apparent to me.

Check.

I like it.

My mind flips and flops and tumbles and soars! This strap is booty!

I skank the buy in time, not risking the possibility of another missed appendage. Sage needs an arm. It'll be swell for her to be able to hold on to me as I to her in musical strum-mah-duh caress.

On this day the package came in. Except we don't need to keep it on ice, nah. A sturdy envelope will do just fine.

On this day Sage and her Big Bird arm became one.

Arrival of The Big Bird Strap.

Sage prepared.

Strapped and at the ready. Let's jam! Woohoo!!

When I Collide with People

Downtown driving headed

To the art show mind goes

Find that parking won't ya

3rd Street curb I go ya

I'm so excited for the night

Through gallery doors found cheers for this life

Hello Chem how are ya

Sucker punching brother

Geromme salad takeout

claims I'm a good baller

Emonic's art is splendid

On main wall it's rocking

It's good to see good people thrive

Amongst these mighty few I feel alive

Darius had a haircut

Cuts a custom sticker

Chris says to keep drawing

Pick up pen and show 'em

Michelle says cane in season

She's cool for a reason

These faces they all do show a smile

I smile this night worth one whole life

Join them for late dinner

So glad to be invited

More good times talking

Burger, pizza, pasta, pancake dining

My mind is flyin'

Flyin'

Flyin'

For I collide with

Good people make for one awesome night

Thanks everybody!

Tonight was . . .

awe·some

   [aw-suhm]

-adjective

1. inspiring awe: an awesome sight.

2. showing or characterized by awe.

3. Slang very impressive: That new white convertible is totally awesome.

4. Slang excellent or outstanding

Tonight was awesome.

Yup it was. =)

http://www.emonic.net/

http://www.kaleidgallery.com/

Plush Toy Song

Plush Toy Song

Curse curses to the one I thought I

Wanted to buy

and have and to hold

So pretty and pristine this thing

That I adored so tenderly

But it wanted not I

Its button eyes seeing

Someone else to be bought by oh yeah

It's yarn sewn smile

Smiling for the true intended

And they do look splendid

So where am I?

Still searching for the one for me

For years cuddleless in bed and sleep

Which plush toy is for me?

Which plush toy is for me?

Oh where is she?

Curse curses to me myself and

I the one dumb fool who still now seeks

For one plush toy to cherish

Yet now known no plush wants to

Cuddle with a creep

These innocent eyes only see

Sincerity and all done in goodwill

But such plush misunderstood as

Fuckin' hell?

Who the hell is he?!

Still searching for the one for me

For years cuddleless in bed and sleep

Which plush toy is for me?

Which plush toy is for me?

Still searching for the one for me

For years cuddleless in bed and sleep

Which plush toy is for me?

Which plush toy is for me?

Oh where is she?

Its button eyes seeing

Someone else to be bought by oh yeah

It's yarn sewn smile

Smiling for the true intended

No it was not I

Such is life

No plush for this creep

Fly Over and Bless (The Id Pasensya)

"Hey Release, how are ya?"

"Good," replies Release "how are you?"

"Not so well bro" answers C.

"Whoa no way? Why don't you tell Release all about it?"

"Yeah 'Lease, thanks bro. I feel drained man, ya know? It's a trip too 'cause just a few hours I felt terrific. Good good good, ya know? But something flipped and it feels like whatever good was there was siphoned out of my spirit."

"The good feeling was siphoned out of your spirit?" asks Release, stupified.

"Yes indeedy. But it was my fault. I was so blinded by the good done that I did not see the other side of that perceived good."

"Something bad?"

"Yup, bad. Bad enough to feel like that good and the energy of that good went warp speed to where ever I am NOT" says C shaking his head, sighing heavily.

"Well it's good you came to me, let it out" says Release, patting C on the back. "Now you now what the other side looks like and know not to do it anymore, right?"

"Oo pare" says C looking at his feet dejectedly but also nodding in acknowledgement of the lesson learned.

Release asks C with gusto, "How about you sing some songs on the guitar? That might put some pep back in your mental step."

"Yeah . . . it just might fill a full tank of good back into my spirit" replies C with a chuckle.

"Well there ya go!" says Release cheerfully whilst doing an Irish jig in front of C as the recovering C says something under his breath . . .

"Savory . . ."

My Head Will Collapse If There's Nothing In It . . .

Error

"Move along, folks. There's nothing to see here."

Uma the Splendid

Uma is cool, down, hip, chill, lax, splendid, awesome, superb.

And she's 69 years of age.

At 69, Uma is cool, down, hip, chill, lax, splendid, awesome, superb AND has the spirit & energy of someone a fifth of her age WITH the wisdom of sage kings.

It's as if a magician pulled a trick on stage with a grand flourish only to remain visible to the entire audience that it is no trick - NO! - that flourish is REAL and that magician is truly magnificent.

The Quirky Cane Hang Fascination

I admit it. I have a quirky fascination with hanging my cane off of things with the proviso that it is a location that interests me and (duh) includes an object that my cane can hang on to . . .

Backyard hook cane hanging.

Derby cane at Chevron Capitol & McKee.

Of the Bay with hook cane. SFO is just to the right.

So yes if I'm at your house attending a party it is highly likely that you'll see my cane hanging off of your refrigerator. Don't touch it though. It's booby-trapped. Without the secret touchpoint(s)(?) you'll find yourself transported to The Twilight Zone with Rod Serling looking at you chain-smoking cigarettes and doing introductions/narrations/end monologues for the rest of eternity. You have been warned. =l

Mug Eeyore - Monday, May 2, 2011

To Do Oh To Do

There's a a life to live when there are things to do.

Write ideas.

Write poetry.

Write stories.

Write songs.

Corresponding and connecting with various persons.

Contributing to a greater whole.

These are the things that I do. C'est la vie. Woohoo!!