There is a lot of fucking shit to be afraid of out there. Trust me.



I don't like killing bugs. I've killed living things before, more then I wanted to, but I try my hardest not to kill the little guys. It's not really all that fair- I mean I'm much bigger then them, big enough to be part of the landscape. It feels like beating up a little kid. My patience can only go so far though. Bugs with stingers, or ones that burrow into my flesh- you're getting whacked. Spiders, I'll pick you up and take you outside. Silverfish move to fast, its fucking creepy- so they too bite it. Flys and knats, well I tend not to kill you unless you are really fucking annoying. I really wish this fucking hairy ass fly would stop landing on me, papa doesn't want to have to kill again.....


Tha's right

Fuck posting everyday.


Lone Wolf

In a time of evil and tyranny, a stone-faced ronin wanders the countryside with his young son ( and a weapon-filled baby cart), hunted by the merciless minions of an evil shogun. Finally, motherfucking Shogun Assassin, on dvd, is in my possession.



So chicago was pure mindless fun. It seemed so over the top insane to just take a long drive to hang out on one block, take in a few deep breaths and head back home. I caught some nasty stomach shit, so my ambition to spend the entire day up there went straight to hell, but I still think the overall trip was a huge success. For the amount of foot traffic, the starbucks bathroom was mighty clean, sort of. When I got home I was in such stomach, nauseous pain I came very close to going to the hospital. Then I fell asleep and ten hours woke up a lot better. I still feel like crap, which I think I have some flu shit stalking me the way things are looking so far. Fuck the flu.



I love new furniture, but not the baggage that comes with it. Now I feel compelled to clean out messy shelves, move tables, and clean out just about every room in the house. Fuck...so much to do now.



For some strange reason I have been excited about halloween all of a sudden. Maybe it's all the rain ( it always rains on halloween in st. louis) or just the promise of fall around the corner. I don't know what it is, but I can't wait to cut some pumpkins, decorate the bushes, and scare myself to death. Plus all of the fucking delicious candy.


Bi-what now?

So many ups and downs. I am dumbfounded...one day everything I am doing makes sense and feels good, the next it is worthless and a waste of time. Nothing is sticking, eveyrthing feels very temporary, like a sugar rush. Too many fucking blogs to keep track of....too many different selves.


Sweet cold rain. I leave work early, and it downpours. I get to my car and it stops. Arrive home, downpours. Go inside, put my shit down, then it stops. I leave for the grocery store- on the way here it comes again. The rain is in love with me, to the point that it hasn't taken the hint and is now fucking stalking me.


Clean up, aisle 6

I have decided to start fresh and toss out all of my standard go-to images for my work. I have become so crazy going through what to do and not do. I think I had some kind of plan to work through them all just to clean them out and say "ha, I rock". There is nothing wrong with throwing away the old to make room for something brand-fucking new.


Repeat, for us not furniture.

So the plan is to fucking freak on out to chicago for a day, just to smell the air, get foot cramps, and touch something that feels a bit more real. Sounds good to me, especially if it prevents nuclear war. Sometimes it takes a massive explosion to change yourself, while other times it may only take a small shock. Lets go see what's fucking out there again, shock our systems.



My portfolio site is well on its way to looking gorgeous. Its been a few years now, trying to find the perfect look, and creating the best code. Last night we jumped in and are practically there; now I just have a few more pages to make and some slimming down and beefing up and its done. A fucking job well done my friend, job well done.



Iceberg lettuce often makes me puke. It never gets chewed enough and ends up sliding down my throat only to try and come back up again. Plus, it's mostly just fucking water anyway.

Keep it up.

The first rule I ever assigned myself as an artist is to always carry a sketchbook, which I have since 6th grade. The trick is to always work in that book. For the last seven months or so I havn't done much as far using my sketch book for sketching. I wrote ideas, scribbled done dates and names, even phone numbers and funny websites. Seven years ago I filled a sketch book with drawings every month- on average 3-10 sketches a day. I really miss that feeling, plus having all the prep workl started is always nice when approaching a blank board. Soon I will be embarking on a new project, which should help me get back to my doodle glory. I fucking hate feeling nostalgic.


Finally the weather is less than scorching. I can't really stand the heat. It doesn't help that I'm one heck of a hairy and big man, but the humidity of St. Louis is like walking into a ton of hot bricks the minute you step outside. The last few days have been breezy and warm, with very little humidity. Much better, not quite just right yet. All I know is soon it will be fall, halloween, and all the leaves will crackle and skate across the ground and I'll be able to go outside and play again. Right now we're getting a taste of whats to come hopefully. Then again, it's still fucking hot.