Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Makes you want to cry

Hard to believe that Lik-Sang got shut down. Actually.... it's hard to believe it didn't happen sooner, I guess. They were too good to be true for too long.

Past Death

Remember that time when we were pirates together in a past life and you told me "guess what? I invented a new muscle."?

Well - some time later (after you had fallen overboard) I remembered that and it seemed so funny to me that I began to laugh uncontrollably until I accidentally lit my cannon and slipped on the poopdeck, falling below into the bilge where a rat climbed into my open, laughing mouth causing me to laugh even harder with his ticklish tail so that in my rush to get myself under control, I fired my musket through the rat, my head and probably the hull of the ship.

Thanks for that. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not bitter. It still makes me laugh.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

New Sculpture Completed

Jumping out from my sketchbook into reality - the Pickle Bot is here.


Wednesday, September 6, 2006

Dos but mostly Don'ts

Be more universal.

Don't let your immediate surroundings dictate your life the way they once did for an unenlightened ancestor.

Don't limit what you do for lack of support, interest, encouragement or feedback from those you love. The nature of their close relationship may limit their capacity to 'be there' for you.

Friday, September 1, 2006

I got away with murder.

I slept in for 15 minutes after my alarm went off this morning.

An assembly in the cafeteria of my high school was just ending and the crowd of students was heading for their classes. Some things about my school were different than when I schooled there. For instance, there was a mall-type store in the cafeteria. In the bustle of the crowd, no one at the store noticed me looting a backpack's worth of products.

My next class was actually a meeting for this club that would have been classified as a religious cult if anyone had been paying attention. The cult leader/teacher was my theater director, Tom. The table took up most of the tiny classroom, so kids were crowded tightly into the standing room only between table and wall.

The knowledge that I had strangled the fictitious older brother of a real classmate slowly came back to me and I started to fill with paranoia. It was somehow comforting that I did not remember doing it. But still... people don't get away with murder, right? I guess we probably don't hear about it if they do. The classroom conversation became a murmer while I pondered.

The kid next to me smiled and whispered and offered me a piece of gum. I had always appreciated this kid in school, but had never gotten to know him. And now, if they find that damn body, I'll never get the chance. There was some reason why I killed the guy, I was sure of it. I consider myself to be fairly rational, and I think I can trust myself to murder people only when absolutely necessary.

This part is so silly, I'm not sure why I'm including it. At snacktime, one of my classmates pulled out an oversize pair of men's briefs wrapped in plastic. It was gimmicky packaging for a bunch of assorted flavors of fruit leather. A 'panty pack' someone called it. They all grabbed excitedly for the snacks.

A man came into the room. All the blood went to my head - I was sure they had found the body. He looked right at me and tried to edge into the crowd, but couldn't force his way through. Instead, he gave a small stack of papers to the teacher and left.

After checking the papers, our teacher reminded us all that we had to get parental permission to go on the upcoming mountain retreat. His assistant ( I think she was his wife, too) started making her way through the crowd at this time, stopping to hug each one of us.

I woke up full of dread, knowing that I was certainly prison-bound. As I tried to remember if I had used gloves or not, I realized that the person I had strangled probably never existed.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Who are the people in your neighborhood?

Wherever you trek across this city, you will never be able to escape the frizzy haired guy in the black leather jacket who always has his back to you as he lectures the woman he has captured for a mate. Maybe he doesn't care or maybe he doesn't even notice that she is not listening or even looking at him. You'll see them late at night in alleys, in the afternoon up against walls and even in the morning inside some Plaid Pantry somewhere.
One day, he will be distracted and follow her gaze and turn to see you near the bus stop and descend upon you like a bird asking if you have any part of forty-seven cents.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Big Kid

On my break today, I was walking and talking to Joel on the phone and a little Japanese girl (4 or 5 years old, I'd guess) with a spray bottle told me that she was spraying the street because it was dirty. I told her that was good because it looked like it needed it and I wished her luck.

Another kid was slowly approaching her in a plastic car -lurching along with unsteady foot power. As I crossed the street, I heard her proudly explain to him, "I was talking to a big kid."

Monday, April 17, 2006

Pet Owners Beware

Domesticated animals remain domestic because their wild needs are regularly met but someday when you are old and feeble or even someday soon if you happen to fall or otherwise become incapacitated to the point where you are unable to feed your animal at feeding time and you are stuck lying there in your apartment with your pet pacing around restlessly, there will not be much to stop your pet from eventually realizing that you are the very same type of food that his/her wild predatory ancestors used to eat once upon a time.

I don't want to go into the details here, so please just try to imagine how this would go down. Would your pet have the instinct to kill you beforehand or would it eat you alive? If so, how? What part of you would it eat first? How long would you survive being eaten?

I wonder how many times this has happened. Why not do a search?

Wednesday, April 12, 2006


one could say that settling with one's first love is much like wearing the same dirty (yes: pooped in) diaper for one's entire life.

discussion: is this comparison accurate? what comparison would be more accurate?

bernadette: oh, come on. the idea that you can find a diaper that you really like when you're only in high school is very romantic.

omnicollective: That's a good point. And if it's one of those cloth diapers, you can wash it.... but you'll never get the stains out.

bernadette: and isn't that the best part? the stains will always be there through everything.

brett: I think it's more like getting your leg stuck in a bear trap. And then celebrating the day your leg got stuck in a bear trap year after year.

omnicollective: Also a good point. I should have guessed that you would show up and bring bears into this mess. I was going to counter you by asking 'but what good is a bear trap?' But then you could have countered saying 'what good is a diaper.' Then I would have said 'Touche, my friend. well played. Any fool can see, a bear trap is good for the one who sets it - just as wearing a diaper is good for the one who shits it.'

joel: Always thinking two or three steps ahead in any discourse... that's my dear Aspen. Let me ask you: What's the difference between the same old pooped-in diapers of your youth and a brand new pair that you'll poop in the first chance you get?

omnicollective: um..... do you still wear diapers?

joel: Only when I'm making love...

stacy: life is like a dirty pooped in diaper. you poop, you change it because it stinks, you feel great about the change, and then you poop's a vicious cycle, but the change part is always the makes up for the poop.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

subconscious DJ

you get different songs stuck in your head all throughout the day without even realizing it unless you stop and ask your brain what song you are singing at that moment. some of them meld together because of similarities that your auto-pilot discovers and subtly mixes without you even knowing and pretty soon you have learned the song your new wrong right way. your brain keeps singing it in the background and by the time you are conscious of it you can no longer tell the difference between your version and the original. for example: this is the reason that you can't understand why your anal friends are annoyed when you scream "OHIO!" at the end of the opening credits for That 70's Show.

Sunday, January 8, 2006


Did my heroes ever waste time analyzing the success of their heroes? Will I eventually end up realizing that I have no place among them?