Thank you so much to fans and passer byers. You all that take the time to read and be entertained are the only reasons anyone creates anything. To have those read a prose or jam to the lyrics set to the beats of our heats, makes this adventure worth remembering.
(This lyrical story is set to motion and culmiated by real events: though names and settings change due to privacy and a belief that life is fulll of lessons the chorus might be something you have wanted to sing before and I welcome you all to do so in the shower the next time you think of that....)
Marriage of Conviece~
No matter how many times you smile
You have to remember you married that FAT LiPPED ziGGA!
You were a liberated woman, no one could give you an ultimatum. Never could it be said that I didn't try to S-A-V-E you from your own enternal disgust. I was a dream for ya; You were so insecure, so sure, that I'd stop dreamin' of ya, projecting the thoughts of others onto a man that spoke honestly, earnestly, trying to get you to understand~ what it meant to be a man.
The difference between them fairytale critters who sold ya dreams of mansions, money, fame, corralled you with pyramid schemes, encouraging you that in order to be somebody you gotta PAY-to-PLAY the game. The jokes on you,
~While your sittin' in the sun~
Marriage of Convience~
You'll always have to remember you married that FAT LiPPED wiCCan
I wrote it all in a song, in hopes to catch you singing along, crowd pleaser, pumppin' you up cuz ya sleezie. We had dreams of touching space. Extacy was no fantasy, You were real to me, I only gave you ultimatiums because the world can be a rough place. I never minded goin' with you to the parties; I thought you were cute as button, flashing the world, in that dress that I bought you.
We were livin' large and it was so cool of us. Now you gotta remember
You married that FAT LiPPED ziGGA.
You'll always remember me as the lyracists that never sold you dreams of us, never going to marry you cause it was CONVIENCE. Never treated you like a trophy.
You were my sister, I never dis ya.
Truth is I miss ya.
Now you gotta remember You married that FAT LiPPED ziGGA!
Ain't No Rest for the Wicked:
That is how the flames feel when they begin to lick ya: They warp your mind, you being to loose vision~Forgetting all the lessons of analytics I departed wit-cha. I found you going from MAN to MAN.
oooh I caught ya slippin. You can listen to those acclaimed rich prostitutes as they teach you how to sell cakes in the kitchen. Sell your soul for a little bit of gold, just remember, you marreied that FAT ziGGA.
I am so thankful to a few lessons I emparted to you are showing, I don't see my son being flashed all over the Social Media, there are no trANNIES around trying to teach him how to be a MAN.
Again I am chocked up about your Marriage of Convience~ just remember you chose the marry that FAT LiPPED Losser.
Twitter is the new time square. You'll find me in the middle of the crowd, cause for the life of me, I'll always be singing your praises, another green board dictation, you got your pen ready cause I am not going to say this out loud~
Spoken word, which leads to action is how you get what your seekin'~that's the secret~ so sorry about your marriage of convience, just remember you decided to LiNK Ball and ChaIN to that FAT ziGGA, I can only bless ya, while you carry that load life dealt ya.
They will call men like me (Captain Save A-Hoe) cause I beleive in marriage. I pitty them cause every time I see them I make them remember like the fifth of november, You decided to marry that FAT SiCk ziGGA. I hope your enjoying your
Marriage of Convience~
( SO MANY MARRIAGES END IN DIVORCE BECAUSE OF LIMP ***ICK MEN)
As I look back I remember how much I loved FLCL.
The story, the animation, the company as a whole..what ever they made I went looking for it.
I recently looked at one of my pieces of art and I could see there influence in my life through my art. It was a good influence. It is a compliment of the kindest regards. (They should be flattered really) That there style will not die and might even develope a new name over the years as people try to out do them.
In the mean time I am going to keep riding on shooting stars!
We really can do nothing in this life, worth while, without the input of others. After a project is developed and polished, after a song is created, after a book is written, it behooves the creator to take time to tell those that helped them, THANKS!
Most of the people that I interact with, I really wish I had there mailing addresses so I could send them post cards or christmas gifts for there kinds words. That is half the problem with the internet, people are so subject to believe that everyone on it is set out to swindle, abuse, harm, disturbe them in some way and well I guess it is because I am a Millennial> I have never felt put down by those I interact with on the internet. Instead I like to take everything that is around me and use it to express vibrance in some way. I don't know the woman's name from Slovakia but it is not important. What is important is that she knows, she has helped to create something wonderful.
One day I will have to ask her why she likes men in capes?
Why the color sky blue?
Why a white scarf?
She really did have fun telling me what to do and I can only hope it brought a smile to her face.
The next best thing about creating a character no one has heard of...You can recreate it over and over until it really speaks to you.
I am a very critical artist and in order to get over myself, Good, Bad, Ugly...I feel the art must be seen and I will not hold onto a piece I've created. That only sets to put holes in the paper.
I really need to make sure this is clear because she was very dissapiointed by the remark: Croatia is not Slovenian. I was disappointed that I could not put her Tatras in this is piece, but as I have been developing illustrations I have found less is more and this is a foundation that I dread leaving. I find it a shame that our attentions spans can not handle more than an 8x11 showcase. Suppose I had bigger paper then the mountains could have been seen and all the green that Slovikia has to offer....I have come to terms with this and hope my audience does as well.
I can never say thank you enough @HornyTogether for all that you have inspired in me.
This really is a piece of art that a believer in hunting can appreciate.
So I have friends online from so many countries. People that stop by and show appreciation for my style and the things I like to talk about.
Slovakia is one of them.
As I got to thinking, out of all of my travels that is one country I really don't know a lot about and when I ask my friends, what is it like...I really don't get a lot. Well I feel bad because no one really has to ask what is America like. It is a country that is still suffering from an Identity crisis and asking for renewal and reformation from Victorian ideals.
(I remain in the middle in these sudo-political discussions because I hold the opionion that America is the land of the free and expression is still desired from those that live here.)
I was thinking that my newest project should be one that supports the idea of Slovakia, though I have never been, I have always felt art is supposed to capture a moment. Much like contemporary music, theater, prose, wrtings. All of it is supposed to reflect the country or theme, something so that when someone asks, "What is your world like?"
What better way to communicate such a complex topic, than from a perception on the canvas, or a panel.
After I do my homework I think I will be able to come up with something that impresses my friends on the other side of the pond.
(If you could describe Slovakia in one word what would you say?):
Please consider my style of art when thinking of ways to assist in this conversation:
Try it yourself...to bring to life a place you have not seen, but from one word or phrase can envision and bring those that have never been, to another country.
Does anyone remember Super Milk Chan?
Can anyone tell me why this show was blocked so often?
The show centers on the activities of Milk, a 5-year-old superhero who may or may not actually have any powers and can do very little besides making popular culture references. Its American slogan, as a result, became "Wholesome? Probably not. Good for you? Definitely." She lives in a house on a suspended platform with her malfunctioning robotic maid Tetsuko and her drunken pet slug Hanage (nosehair). The show follows a fairly linear formula. In each episode, the President (of "Everything", according to his name) calls with a new mission; whether Milk actually takes the mission is not guaranteed. Regardless of whether or not she takes the mission, she always takes credit and celebrates her success by going out for "sushi (or something)." Likewise, there are a number of other constants that follow through the series, often under contrived circumstances.
All of those episodes are rated TV-PG. It was later made into 12 full-length episodes, which are rated TV-14 in the United States. An alternate dub with American pop-culture references, harsher language and newly-shot live-action sequences with the ADV Films cast aired on Anime Network and was rated TV-MA.
I have always wanted to know how people became offended by the idea of it?
Was it because it show cased what the American media had become and still trying to be...or was it because they used the words President? Did people feel it was a mockery of our American system? Did no one find it amusing or at least insightful?
It brings to mind this new book written by WOLF and so many other publications that have been filed into the pit of the forgotten because they shined lights onto truths most would like to ignore, or call lies.
Recently I spoke of a woman that has turned my ears wide open. We will call her Raven Hair for the story. (This is not just becaue I don't know her name, but because most people don't like to know you are writing about them...at least until the end of the story).
Its been a year or more and we have not spoken more than two words to one another, but it is obvious that we desire more. So I gave her my card. I was amused at the idea that as I picked up my favorite sin: I handed her a card that discloses my occupation~In disclosing my occupation I tell a lot, a lot that would not have been said on the first date.
I tell her how I am a believer in Jesus and that I am an artist and because I am picking up ciggaretts for the past year I have been having problems with my faith. ( I suppose any faith worth having is the one that is tested): We always find ways to justify and clean up our faces, escepially when we want to make a good impression. With Raven Hair I did not worry about impressions and it felt nice to let my hair down.
I asked about her vacation from work: ( She enjoyed it.) Welll we all enjoy vacations.
She asked about my own and I told her I never release.
I never get a vacation and hear is why, I hand her my card. Despite my ciggerettes she has always wanted a way to reach me and because I am a man I have to be the first to make the move. (It is written in stone somewhere that in the dance of flashing eyes and moving lips, nothing will further take place in the relations of man and woman until the man makes the move.) I knew it was a safe move a year ago. (Handing her my card I mean).
I am just so different from the man that I used to be...at least I would like to think...
I have this pain in my heart when I dream of her black hair in my hands and the scent of her, the feel of her. To know we could never marry, let alone date. We could do nothing save for speak and even the speaking with her the she calls me sweetie sets me to dreaming of the way she tastes.
In hopes of never committing a sin...denoucing fornication, one night stands, even a blow job. I must purge her from my mind...That is until I see her again and hear the words that tickle my fancy....
I defend her by suggesting there is nothing to it. It is a term of endearment placed upon every man that walks through the door and it is her job that requires cheerieness and that smile. If not me, any other man would hear her whisper "sweetie,'" upon there departure. Any other man...
I gave her to card and departed~Did not tell her to look me up, did not ask her to call and cared not for further engagment. If I can not give her what she desires, what more can be expected of our knowing eachother.
You know I've lived in the south so long, I really know better than to allow this word..."Sweetie," to get the best of me.
It has always been a simple social expression, nothing was ever to be inferred from it. Women really are safe to share it~This term of endearment~with anyone they choose. I could never tell you why I look forward to hearing it~very laughable to find I can still be made to blush.
Her defense: She is just as social with others as she is with me.
WHY DID YOU GIVE HER YOUR CARD!!??
Because she called me "sweetie."
You know you are a putz right?
I am certian nothing will come of it~She will never read a colmn or seek to know the man that never pays her mind, besides hello and good bye.
In this game of flashing eyes and dancing lips are men alone in these thoughts of arousal? I am made to wonder is she goes home regretting not speaking beyond the words of, "sweetie;" does she not feel torment in her fingers is not being able to touch?
Does she wrestle in her mind or am I no different than any other guy and in time will I pass from her mind as she is made to blush for another, "Sweetie?"
New story and thoughts for the new year.. sharing with those that appreciate fun ideas and trending art.
It is so cold right now I can't even think straight...I am going to have to go into hibernation for a while guys...my computer screen is frozen over...not cool at all...my toes hurt it is so cold.
The craziest thing happend on twitter today. I was going through my blog set up routine. Filing through my work to see what I wanted to share with the world and talk about. Then I read this question:
Disclaimer the people and places will not be revealed intentionally: Back to the question:
(A woman asks:)
Can anyone name 10 American inpatient rehabs that do not require 12 step participation & do not use 12step ideas (ie powerlessness, labeling oneself addict, stepwork) in any of their therapeutic day programming? (referral to meetings OK) someone comes through and rebuts with this response:
Is it a conspiracy or lack of an effective alternative? For better or worse, 12 step meetings can be found everywhere to support those in recovery.
(It seems not matter the question in life, when we don't know an answer you pull on theroies or conspiracy and want to blame aliens right): This has been a problem for me when it comes to a lot of disucssions in the American public, crazy writers are given more credit for viewed publication than realistic and accredited truth.
It is not a conspiracy it is just how things have developed in the guise of suggesting these steps are effective. Propagated on the idea that everyone is sick and in need of recovery from something. #GreatTopic<<<I feel that is a safe answer and unless I have a solution for the quesstion: what more can be said?
Then something amazing happens: this guy comes out of no where and says something that makes sense:
In the 20th century, addiction treatment was born, and it just so happened to thrive and proliferate outside of mainstream medicine: MN Model. FL Model, etc. There’s a shift now to fold addiction into primary care, eg: GP’s should be able to prescribe drugs like buprenorphine. Then a whole chain of viewers and listeners chime in and start making sense:
(Another strange man:)
Yes and medcalizing peoples relationship to drugs isn’t the panacea. Buprenorphine - suboxone, methadone are all abstinence based therapies. Where you have to b abstinent from all drugs which buys in to the idea that if you are “hooked” on one you’ll have a prob w/ all.
(Really wonderful stuff right?)
(Woman from the begining ends conversation with:)
Not necessarily. There are harm reduction programs that use those medications and don't require abstinence from everything else.
#GreatTopic wonderful stuff: Rah Rah>>> this is what I am thinking: after all is said and done this one conversation dragged 11 people into it and I think that is nice we all rallied around one topic very nicely: Great with my cup of coffee:
Then sadness falls on me for not a single one asked about my art work, suggested how they could not stand it or anything, just pictures on a wall of some sort: I had to ask myself what does the opiod crisis have in common with my art work and then I was really sad: was my work being compared to that of a person on pills....oh yeah I have a piece of work for that and come my next publication this old owl will show you his contempt for pills alright...
I was sitting here remembering a conversation I had with a complete stranger in a Hotel whirlpool juczzi one year in my many trips around the country. As I sit and recall the conversation I found it to be the most insightful piece of information, that I at the time completely put it aside as useful in the world of incoherant noise that most of us process.
Why do I want to talk about it? Because I have come to find that there might be some truth in it. 10 years later mind you.
There were two people sitting in the pool before I arrived. They were white and most of the time these things do not drive a story. For this story these things matter, Two people I don't know begin to engage conversation with me, Color has never been a problem for me and one will rarely find me referancing these things as motivations for the words that come out of the mouths of others. The woman engages first, with the customary hello, that I was sure would have been the end of the conversation. Of course there would be no story.
As I sit in the warm water the hello drags on to her asking her companion if I can join them for a drink. He agrees and so do I. What are we drinking. Something white and clear and pleasent in the belly. As the drink lossens my lips I begin to inquire about my friends, "What do they do? Where are they from? Do they drink with everyone that comes to this Hotel?" I was very young to the idea of how people will make themselves seem more than what they are, under the delusion that first impressions always make for better association later. (There was never a later).
Well in this time of my life I was never alone, three of my charming friends arrive as we planned. Women of a wonderful order, with shapes that made most Goddesses envy. We will call them the tripple T's for this story. T stands for trouble and they were all bags of it.
T (1) arrived in red, T(2) arrived in blue, T(3) arrived in pink. The pink was so clear cut it seemed she was nude. I had nothing to do with pink but red was a dear friend and lighter skinned then them all. Why is the hue so important. Because for this story, the words of the woman that sat next to me has rung true in case of the woman in red bathing suite. To this day I am surprised at her awarness and have always wondered and wanted to ask, "How did you know?"
As we sat and spoke and I honsetly explained the situation I was under with a total stranger. The situtation of the tripple T's and there association with me, She asked if I was, "with," any of them? I told her the red is my first pick but we are not exclusize. She said, "That's a pitty, I would have chosen the darker one in blue, though she is only into women, after a month you could change that, and marriage would be more ideal for you?" I had to ask,"What makes you say that, because I am black and it is better than people of the same hue relate with one another?"
She blushes and says," She is for interrational relations, nothing agianst it. She just does not trust the one in red because Mulottos are known for being double crossers." At first I was initally appauled. She had the nerve to come to this sound judgment of character based on what proof?" Though as I sat and listened I asked her companion if he was of the same opinion and he says, "Sure where there is money involved."
I being of the mind that no matter the hue of our skin, we are all have the propensity to double cross one another, does not mean that because of the olive hue one is willing to maime for a dollar more readily than the next. The ideas of loyalty and disloyaty are universal and based on education. Are they not?
To this day I can't tell you for the life of me what prometed this conversation and like I said in the begining, it went in one ear and out the other. Yet as I watched her progress of the...., (The lady in red), boy was I surprised as to how quickly the words of a passing stranger where becoming truer and more real. I could not but help to wonder if I was looking for it. If I was wating for the ball to drop. If I should have kept the woman in blue who had a thing for my last girlfiriend around and convinced her of how happy a home two of the same complexion can really create.
When it occured: The double cross: I am thankful that it was not behind my back: that it was in my face and because I am the gent that I am: I needed not do anything except excel and release. Can you imagine it was over a belly ring: She did what for a belly ring: a $25.00 belly ring and because we were not exclusive what could be said: She simply proved the point of a total stranger who showed me more kindness in that hotel pool than anyone else I knew.
I still to this don't want to admit how horrible it feels to know someone you took time to care for decided it was ok to tempt your patience and personal health for a $25.00 belly button ring: I suppose if I was to entitle a song about this belly button ring I woudl call it:
"It Stopped at a Kiss...."
I never let him touch me where you did last week;
Who else was going to buy me that drink;
You told me when we first started seeing eachother; you wouldn't show signs of a jealous tick:
You told me from the begining, you could care less what I did with my body, women have a right to be naughty
to play with hot toddies:
you should be thankful that I stopped at a kiss....
Its not a challange to your manhood
I come home to you every weekend, get over your pouting
It's not like I was mouthing the mick or filled with excitment of the night
I stopped at a kiss....