Maniacal Moves

This shit sucks. Shhhh. I had lunch with my wife on my "day off." It kinda pisses me off. Every time I stay home sick from work, my wife is like, "You can come have lunch with me!" And she's so goddamn cute when she says it, too. Makes it easy to understand how people can kick puppies. I'm home. For a reason. Home, sick. Not at work. Like I should be. Why am I gonna shower and dress and stress on these fucking city roads with their country-bumpkin drivers?

Thank goodness for spellcheck. This tequila rocks!

So, my wife thinks I drive like a maniac as it is, and I do. But goddammit, as far as she's concerned, I DO NOT! I'm a suicidal surgeon on the road. Precise, controlled, purposeful, kamikaze. It's not the same as jackasses who think they're the greatest driver, but that it doesn't matter 'cause they're also invincible. You know the trick to success? Suicidal tendencies. No shit. Try to kill yourself, and JUST YOURSELF out on the roads, you'll be amazed at how great your progress is.
I think it's like that with everything...

So I'm driving to see Glass. I got rules on the road. Rules no one should break in my world, not even me. One is, if you fuck up and miss your turn--

Hold on, my vision is clearing up; mas tequila...

If you miss your turn (Korn is cool, Pandora is better, Sauza is best), don't fuck everybody else by making a right turn from the left lane or grid-locking traffic because you thought you might try something with brass. If you didn't have balls ten minutes ago, you don't now. Keep driving. Like dirt on your hands--there's soap in the restroom--there's another turn ahead, fix it there you shitbrick.

By the way, never trust an asshole with a Sunoco sticker on their car. They're crazy. Dangerous crazy. Only to be outdone by those cocksuckers who have a complex 'cause they drive a minivan instead of a muscle car. Worst is a minivan WITH a Sunoco sticker. Satan's cronie right there. People with NASCAR stickers? Slowest sackless motherwhoring bastards on the road. Is this you? Stay the fuck off the road, then!

So, on the 590, Road work signs. I thought they only came out at night...? Left Lanes Closed. We all merge right, tick fucking tock. My wife's half hour lunch ticks away. Then, two twit Troopers disturb the fray by merging, with lights, from the shoulder on the right. Now everybody feels compelled to drive 5 under the speed limit. You think this makes the cock-owning, gun-toting drivers of those cop cars happy? I bet they curse you all. Slowing down, slowing them down. Here's what should be a crime: There was NO Construction. None. All that hoopla for nuttin'. Goddammit! That shit should be illegal. Take down your fuckin signs during off hours.

The confusion left me in the wrong lane to access my wife's work exit. I speed up, check my mirrors, and break my Rule. Official Ass hole move. I swerve over the yellow hash marks and three lanes at 70 mph to get my lane. And curse myself all the way to my wife's work. Fucking lowlife hypocrite!

Back home, better part of an hour back into sleep, my boss calls. Until my back heals, I shouldn't come back to work. (hitting these keys is kinda hard--mas tequila!). That's right. Laid off again.
FUCK!!! An hour of calming down through music, I call my wife. She pisses me off. She always gets all condescending and then states the Fucking obvious. I NEED MY JOB. IT PAYS FOR MY FUCKING PHYSICAL THERAPY. Duh. It also probably fucks my back. Thirty, sixty, hundred-twenty pounds all day. Hmmm.

I call my phys therapist. Discuss some OBVIOUS shit. Then some not so obvious. Call my boss, gush apologies, admit to reaming doctors and loved ones, promise it won't happen again. We agreed, I should be back Monday. Call the wifie, as commanded, tell her that if I gotta bust my ass at this job with my back like this, I'm gonna be the lazy motherfucker at home. So pick it up. And stressin' over getting a house? Fuck that too. I made her a list of specific pictures I want of every house and charged the camera. I wish I had a bottle of Valium to wash down with this tequila. Hey! It's Heath Ledger! Loved your performance as Joker. My life was completed by that movie! Wanna play Joker and I'll play Batman? If I get frisky, maybe we can play Brokeback Mountain and you can suckie-suckie, eh! Just kidding, folks. That's fucked up. But at least I'm laughing. That's progress, right?

I better crawl back into bed. I think I just achieved drunkenness for the first time since Nibor, 10 years ago. That incident landed me in jail. This could get ugly! LOL!

A Hole Needs to be Filled in the Desert

Fuck anyone who says living in an apartment is advantageous because YOU don't have to fix anything. I want to hurt the maintenance personnel at this complex. They're the equivalents of homicidal cops, child-molesting teachers and pyromaniac firefighters. They're the antithesis of who they are supposed to be and therefore spit in the face of all that is sane and just.

My back is stiff and my shoulder feels like I got a mutant second head hanging dead from it. I stayed home. My job upsets me anyway, no tears.

I'm in the shower, hot as my soreness can stand. Which is REALLY FREAKIN' hot. Suddenly, no shit, I hear what I think is a gunshot right there in my bathroom. Was I hit? It felt like if I was, it was in the foot. I look at my foot. There's fucking blood pouring everywhere!

The "good news"? My foot is surrounded by ceramic. The soap dish fell off the wall. A-fucking-GAIN!!! I HATE those idiots.

I dried off. My heel's not so bad. It just poured blood apparently because my shower water was so hot. Think that was hot? You ought not to see my temper right now. I hope my keyboard survives. I just should have fixed it myself like I said I was going to. Damn it.

Current Nemesis

Just as a follow-up. All the chaos that has transpired concerning the maintenance crew of the apartment complex we live in, it's not over yet.

After replacing the shower tiles and dry-wall behind them, the splendid job done let our soap dish tumble off the shower wall a couple days later. About a day AFTER we had them clean all the caulk and dry-wall out of our toilet.

When we called them most recently, the soap dish wasn't the only problem. The toilet was leaking again. This time it was from the water box. I called, left a message, returned home after work, and was--despite having braced myself--shocked. No work had been done. Instead, a note had been left. It asked us to clean the bathroom and re-arrange our furniture so as to clear a way to remove the toilet! That's not necessary!

I called the next morning and conveyed my dismay and expert advice to the administrative... person---the... the friggin' secretary (screw politically correct!). I get home, the toilet has been REPLACED. WHY???!!! The soap dish is stuck back on, but is to remain covered in plastic for a week.

ONE WEEK LATER...

The plastic had been put on in such a way that the adhesive and caulk had no chance to dry. I'm doing it myself this time.

The Watchman

Back in the day, I was stricken with insomnia, for the first time. This lousy piece was spawned. I say lousy because I've learned so much since then; my views are quite changed. Nonetheless, it is the favorite amongst my family and childhood friends. I have always considered it a work in progress, and still wish to someday both rewrite and finish it.

P.S. Okay!, I already altered it a bit. I'm writing it, might as well rewrite it!

The Watchman

I have written these words for all who call Hell home --
For all the poor bastards who live where demons roam.
Some words for all those dreadful fellows
Who live in an evil nation
Flooded with worries and woes,
In the land of Desperation...

'Twas a bright and dreary light,
Cast down by a moon of crimson hue
Yet through the evil of the night
He sent the Watchman through

The Watchman's training soon began
To sharpen his crafty skill
Alas, too, he had to overcome the troubles of man
Which ripped and eroded his will

As the Watchman struggled to learn
Satan cunningly played his game
And oh, how that devil did yearn
To scratch out the Watchman's name

The beasts teased and taunted him, all throughout the night
The demons came and haunted him, filling him with fright
And though they poked and prodded him, he wouldn't dare to fight
This was his one and only hope: he had to get it right


Satan, like a cancer, tried to get under the Watchman's skin
He called upon the Watchman's family, and the Watchman's friends

He began to weaken the Watchman by corrupting him from within
He attacked the Watchman's very fibers, fraying them at the ends

Although he desperately needed to repent
For the many sins in his short existence
The forces of evil were hell bent:
They would annihilate all resistance

Seeing that the time was near
He took a last look into the mirror
He had to right all that was wrong
Fearing he'd been in the darkness for far too long

All that time, he should have grown
For we must reap what we have sown
Too soon, the demons burst from the ground
With Satan's last lunge to steal the crown

The frightened people ran to hide
Abandoning their daily roles
For they knew deep down inside
Who they'd given stock of their souls

With precious hope, and knowledge at hand
The Watchman stepped forward to take his stand
The Book as his sword, his faith as his shield
No matter the odds, he would never again yield

And with his few weapons,
He took on the damned
Fighting ghouls, beasts, and demons
As well as the burdens of Man

So he renewed the age old fight
Opposing evil in favor of Good
He fought with courage and all his might
He finally did the best he could

After the long and endless night
The Watchman had all but lost
Near the end of our gruesome fight
None could count the souls it had cost

And though he knew he should not win
He chose to carry on
Struggling to breath; wounded by sin
He managed to live until dawn

The truth was at last clarified
As he staggered into the dawn
He accepted then, as he died
He was no knight -- at best, a pawn

But though the realization burned as a phosphorous flame
He knew that a pawn could still win the game
He finally grasped the key to his salvation
With his own heart he must expose Christ's love to Satan

He uttered not a word as the ground opened and he fell
Into the dark abysmal pit; the hungry maw of Hell
The Devil anxiously awaited, he chuckled and he grinned
As the Watchman's memories burned away, every enemy, every friend

And though he saw his sins setting fire to his grave
The Watchman still held hope, felt a reason to be brave
As he closed in on the home of the dreaded enemy
He held on ever tighter to the mighty key

What the Watchman had planned, Satan never would have guessed
How could the devil, in all his vainness, see
What was tethered in the Watchman's breast
So small, but roaring with mighty power, he held the key

------

The roads were paved with infants' skulls
The woefulness rushed in like a flood
Screaming pitifully, infinite souls
The demons drinking gleefully upon their blood

Satan quited the howling creatures
Then stared upon the figure of soul and sand
So tenuous and frail, with such harsh features
One more tenant in this God-forsaken land!

Satan smiled and pulled out his list
Glowering at the man before him
The Watchman clutching triumph in his fist
Yet wearing a face eternally grim

The devil knew, as he went on down his list
The Watchman was finally his prize
Never sensing there was something he had missed
As he read off his elaborate offers and lies

When he finished, The Watchman stood up straight
And refused Satan and his schemes
His cry heard clear to Hell's gate
He had bigger and better dreams

When the Watchman dared to call him The Liar
Satan deafened him with his ghastly choir
Maniacally weaving into their song
Lyrics of all the Watchman had done wrong

Though drowning in pain and fear
The Watchman lay perfectly calm
Struggling to keep his mind clear
His fist unclenched, the key laid on his palm

Satan howled with frightened eyes
He saw a key which was the perfect size
And as key is to lock, love is to hate
The Watchman quickly rushed out of Hell's gate

------

As the Christ collected the souls from Hell
Knowing he was done, the Watchman finally fell
He knew he'd finished his watch, he'd seen us through 'til Dawn
He hoped that 'though he lost most battles, his war was finally won.

Spirits

Fallen

I did this with my eyes closed, using food coloring that had spilled in the cupboard. It's my favorite piece. I love how people all see different scenarios in it.

Legends

I drew this while visiting my mother in Missouri. It was off a bandanna for Harley Davidson.

Shelby Cobra

A drawing scaled down with a grid method. Sweet fantasy.

Corny Cartoon

We had to draw some toys the instructor had brought in. The catch: they had to be in a cartoon.
I just couldn't hack it in cartooning.

Vewmo Curse

This young lady was my "first love interest". Nothing more than a five year infatuation, really. I never felt I could fully divulge my true feelings for her. I was on the run, and ashamed of what I was. Where I came from. I called her Rain. This drawing symbolized my feelings concerning those lovely teenage emotions.

Again, I didn't treat this drawing well in my excursions. It's detail has been lost.

Tyra Banks

I inverted this in hopes of showing the detail that was ruined by smudging. I didn't treat it in time. No particular emotions for Tyra, it was an assignment in an art class back in High School.

Princess

This picture was taken of my wife after her hair was practiced on. She chose this style for our wedding. The picture was drawn after the wedding, as a gift to her.

Hancock

Hancock is a great movie. The second great movie I've seen this year. It is nothing the brainless critics say it is--or isn't-- and everything Superman Returns should have been or wished it could be. See it.

"Hancock"
5 stars

Driving in cars as boys

My wife burst into tears in front of her boss. She explained that her mother had called. Her brother had been in an accident, now he was being rushed into surgery. Obviously, she had to leave early.

Was any of this true? Basically, no. She lied. What drove her to lie, and so convincingly with the outburst of tears? I did.

Last week, I had half days all week to rest my back. My wife pleaded with me to have lunch with her on Friday. I relented and swung by our favorite Greek restaurant on the way. I used my phone's GPS to find my wife's new place of work, but it got me lost.

When I finally got to my wife's building, we'd already exchanged a few frustrated phone calls. To top things off, she didn't have her handy-dandy cell phone on her (what's new?) and kept running back inside to call me. Somehow, I think now we were on opposite sides of the building, we missed each other.

Fifteen minutes into her lunch she spotted me speeding through the parking lot trying to see her. She borrowed some stranger's cell and called to stop me.

The ensuing fight was quite vicious on both sides. At the end of it, she was late from lunch and emotional. When she went back to work to apologize for her lateness, she instead broke down. Put on the spot, she blurted out the first explanation that sprang to mind...

We repaired most of the damage done by the fight. Her feelings are still a bit tender. More so than usual. Didn't stop her from bragging about my sweetness to her friend, resulting in her friend getting on her husband's case. He's my friend,or at least the closest thing I've got to a friend on this side of the country. His reply to his wife: "Why don't you just find a husband more like Dusk!" (You didn't think I'd use my name name, did you?)

We were supposed to cool our heels, watching their dogs and awesome house over the weekend and through next week while they were on vacation. Now he's not even going to go!

Sigh. I only get up in the morning to smell my coffee brewing. It's almost the only time I don't smell the shit that hits me all life long.

The Doctor appointment. At the Hospital.

Sigh. It's been a rather long day. I had a doctor appointment today at 3:45. At the hospital. Seeing as how I've missed so much work lately, I figured I'd work 7-3:30 today to compensate. My normal hours are currently 8-4:30.

As I was prepping for the drive, in the restroom, I was overcome with an overwhelming urge to crap. I think it had something to do with popping something in my spine 20 minutes earlier. I'm almost sure it's related, seeing as how every time I leave the chiropractor, I really need to poop.

Needless to say. I left late. Thus, I got there late. Thankfully, I have a "spotter" to my "sniper" (yeah--right: I got the patience of a hot, thirsty flea!) in my wife. I called her "cause I was a bit misplaced. She righted me and she called ahead.

The wait when I got there was miserable. They had an Arizona Highways in the waiting room magazine. I read through it longingly. In the examination room, my wait was SO long, I downloaded my cell phone's first game. Noteworthy is the fact that my cell phone is well over a year old.

Ultimately, a more pleasant lady tended to me. My doctor, who I haven't seen directly since August, is a bit abrupt. Apparently her abruptness was foiled many times over today. After a bit of unusually polite persuasion on my part, I left with a referral to a physical therapist. Yup. My back's still outta whack.

In my haste to get to the doctor's office, I didn't take note of my parking spot. In an 8 story tall parking garage. I had a vague idea of where my car was. But obviously not exact. Walking up and down parking garage ramps is literally a pain in the ass.

Some twenty minutes later (good exercise, I guess) I found my car. I got in. I realized I had no cash to pay to get out...

Back in the hospital, at the inconveniently located ATM, I discovered my account was overdrawn. Was I trapped? Not quite. Was I pissed? You betcha! Back to the car. At least this time I had a half dozen "way points" saved to my phone's camera.

Grabbed the card to the other bank account and back to the ATM. Blah, blah, blah. Blog. And here I am. Now I'm gonna go spend the balance of my twenty on well deserved library fines. Then I'll molest the tequila bottle.