Monday, March 30, 2020

New Year Resolutions Check In #WhereYouAt2020 !?

#WhereYouAt2020 !?! How is living large and in charge of your life! Don't look at me like that, y'all, I know you've been keeping tabs on everyone else's resolutions but what about your damn self!?

Let's see what's up with me!



1. I said I was going to be more social, go out to clubs, dance, cough on people, sing, and just be my best self everywhere I go for everyone who sees me. Where am I now? I'm at home writing a stupid blog post fifteen people will read but will have 85 hits because I keep refreshing it thinking it will get funnier.


2. I said I was going to shake everyone's hand, man or lady, rather than instinctively turning away from the men and sobbing uncontrollably for the women. Where are we this? #2020checkin ! Handshakes are illegal and the state of California will shoot you in the head.


3. I was all about not eating microwaveable foods this year. I did pretty good, too! #yayme but then March hit and I just don't even know! I had a bunch of Kid Cuisine in my fridge because I was studying the evolution of microwaveable foods' box design for a forty-five minute YouTube video I've been planning for years. Guess what? My microwave broke and all I have are scented candles to eat my chicken nuggets over.


4. Claustrophobia was so 2019. I wasn't about to take off all my clothes in the middle of a grocery store because somebody looked at me and I could mentally feel their breath. Now, I spend all my time making trash bag clothes-armor and beat the shit out of anyone trying to take the last thing of trash bags in the grocery store. #GetOutoftheWayYouStupidBitch2020



5. Mexico City. Paris. Venice. Stalingrad. Wuhan. Seoul. Karachi. I was going to work EXTRA all year long, pulling doubles and being real sweet to all the customers that came into the bar so I could spend the last half of the year traveling. What am I doing now? Picking my nose and debating whether I should eat what I find or just stick it under my big toenail. #surfsup



6. This was the year I was REALLY going to start touching my face without any guilt or self-consciousness. It used to be people would be concerned that my pants were unzipped on the bus while I touched my face and my John Dangler became a Stephen Upright but now they don't even care about indecent exposure. They scream, horrified, as I go around sticking my fingers as close to their eyeballs or mouths as possible.

The year is a quarter over! Let's defeat the invisible enemy so I can go outside and scream at my neighbors for housing mole people that burrow underneath my foundation and fuck all night.

Buy a book. 

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Free PDF downloads for lockdown

Howdy.


What a dark timeline we are in. 2020 was supposed to be a good one.

Anyways. I work at a bar and we're figuring it out as a takeout-essentials kind of deal but our wages and business has gone significantly down. Consider donating to the Radio staff relief fund. The fact that California is on near-total-lockdown tells me that it is coming nationwide.

We're in dark times, indeed.

I know it's a bit of a joke this time for individuals to ask for "donations" but if you're so inclined, throwing a buck or two tip into my paypal would go a little ways to making my income less sideways. Maybe one of the Imagine celebrity singers will see this. Click here to throw a buck or so my way. 

It ain't much but here are some free downloads to get you through thirty minutes of the lockdown. Cat Food and Toilet Stories from Outer Space. Cat Food has Flesh House in it and that one is always a popular one. *NOTE: RIGHT CLICK AND SAVE AS AND DISTRIBUTE TO WHOEVER YOU WANT. I HAVE LIMITED BANDWIDTH TO SPARE WITH DOWNLOADS FROM THE SOURCE*

If you like that little taste, you can purchase my books here on Amazon. But buy Invasion of the Weirdos here.

Or you can throw a buck or two in the Paypal. Or donate to the Radio staff.

Thursday, February 13, 2020

Super Fast Food Death Match of the Century

All of you Ronald McDonald hating fascists are just regurgitating fifty years of Burger King propaganda.

There never was pink slime. Their meat was never gray. Their Filet-o-Fish sandwich was never made up of flash frozen yeast infection.



That was all put into the FAKE NEWS to make you sound smart as you chomped on your Wendy's burgers.

Let me take a few steps back.

SQUARE BURGERS? SQUARE FUCKING BURGERS?! That's a logistical achievement, not a culinary one. The Clown said, "I'll take the haypenny hit on having my burgers look circular like God intended. I'm not about to fit and extra half pound per box just to save a few cents on gas or whatever the fuck Dumb Ass Dave is cooking up at his little burger chain."



Burger King: what are you thinking? Have you ever been to a Burger King you haven't been stabbed at? I've been stabbed fifteen times just walking through the parking lot. It's a miracle I'm here today. They were stabbing me with paper crowns. "They" were my nephews and nieces who were so pissed at me for taking them to Burger King that they tried to kill me with their crown. There's a metaphor there. "Why couldn't we go to FUCKING JACK IN THE BOX, Uncle Andrew? At least there, I have to eat before I throw it all up!" Good point, imaginary niece. Good point.

Speaking of Jack in the Box; does it even know what it wants to be? Their tacos look like the contents of a treasure box in a women's restroom but they taste pretty good (so exactly like the treasure box in a women's restroom). Their egg rolls could fool any Panda Express slogging punk ass. They have seasoned fries. They also have burgers which makes Jack in the Box the Taco Bell of burger joints.



Taco Bell has seven ingredients that they just recombine over and over again and make a dumb name for. What is it? It's a taco wrapped in a burrito. It's a Buraco. What is it? It's a fully formed burrito stuck into a taco shell slathered in refried beans with a gordita shell plopped onto it. It's Gordurritaco. That's all Taco Bell is. The best thing about Taco Bell is when they ask if you want hot sauce and you say yes, they either dump every packet they've ever made in your bag or give you like two for fifteen tacos. Bernie Sanders isn't president yet, y'all and I've been told both these scenarios are likely under Bernie Sanders.



If you don't live in Texas, you don't care but every Texan I've ever heard pronounce Whataburger pronounced it WATERBURGER. It's so ingrained into our collective that I went to a food truck recently with a WATERBURGER on the menu and I had to ask, "Is there meat in that burger?" The guy looked at me like I was crazy but while every other menu item listed their ingredients fully, the Waterburger listed everything but the meat. "Yeah, it's called WATERBURGER because there are water chestnuts in it." Look, I don't call my burger an onion burger just because I put onions on it. I don't call it a lettuce burger just because I put lettuce on it. It's either a burger or it's not, buck-o. It was pretty good.



So how about those elections, eh? Wild stuff. 

Sunday, February 2, 2020

Authentic Relating With Your Dog


As I've grown, I've learned to throw away the remaining vestiges of plasticity and inauthenticity in my life. Thanks to the advice of my life coach/sexual healer, I've learned the power of authentic relating with humans and pets. Today I'm going to demonstrate how to relate authentically with your dog.

When your dog barks and chews on things it shouldn't, you need to get down to their level, stare them in the eye, and say, "I will not be bullied by you." Your dog should understand that you are hurt but it still should respect your personhood and your value in its life. If it still continues to bark, you need to get down on your knees and say, "Can't you see what you're doing to me? You are hurting me and I refuse to be hurt. I refuse to be bullied, kicked around, or shut up. You will not defeat me."


Sometimes you buy toys or food for your dog that they aren't interested in. If you find a half-eaten carrot lying around the house you need to grab it and stomp around the house until you find your dog. You need to grab it by its ears and say, "I paid for you to eat and you just make a mess all over my house that I invited you into. This contract... this relationship... nuh-uh... I'm not vibing with it anymore. I'm not feeling it. You will eat what I give you."

Your dog will sometimes yelp in its crate while you try to sleep so that you can go to work to buy it toys and food. Whenever your dog disturbs your slumber, you need to get out of your bed quietly, and you need to whisper into your dogs crate things like, "Do you understand what I do for you? I'm just trying to be real with you, I'm just trying to be honest. I'd like for you to know that I am honest with you and if I'm being honest, I gotta say, I need to go to work so that I can pay for food so that you can live. Now, I can simply call in sick and say my dog kept me up all night but then I'd likely be fired and we'd be no better than the homeless people under the bridge that feed their dogs their used toilet paper and toe cheese. Maybe I'll just donate you to one of those guys. Shut the fuck up. Goodnight. I love you."


Sometimes your dog will be incontinent or, worse, diarrhetic. You need to tell your dog, "If you continue to act as if you were a child, I will have to throw you into the street and leave you to fend for yourself like I would a child. I didn't buy a child, though, I bought a dog and I really feel like those fucking kids I passed up to buy you... well, they would have been the better investment because I've never heard of a kid who shit his pants, ate it, then promptly threw it up causing me the believe you had a bowel obstruction and wasting eighty dollars on tests only to find out that you're a goddamn shit eater. OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Once your dog understands that you are relating authentically with it, you will have a much healthier and real relationship with your dog. You will be happier and it will be happier. Trust me.

Super Bowl




Listen up, toeball fans. This is a time for Americans to rally around each other and decide between Bud Lite or Mango White Claw. I don't like the sound of Mango so I reach for a Bud though I prefer to drink a $10 cask-aged craft version of a light beer. I don't even like gruntball but I'm here for the fucking chips and dip so go get me a plate, honey. 

Listen up, guy with glasses talking about the socioeconomic metaphors present in sports: shut the fuck up. Nobody is listening to you because we're all here chomping on Beef Lil Smokies and looking for the hidden bathroom the homeowner obviously doesn't want you to know about. He wants to masturbate while pooping in peace. 

Listen up, homeowner. I found your little bathroom and your dirty little secret. You're a fucking nerd who takes off all his clothes when he poops because you "get too sweaty" and "nobody likes the smell of poop sweat." Listen up, cowboy. I do. I love the smell of poop sweat and whenever I get a whiff of it, it makes me want to poop. What? Is this a bidet? The hose kind? You certainly don't cheap out and I can understand why you didn't want anyone here using your secret bathroom. I like to stick the hose just far enough up so I get the same sensation of getting water up my nose but in my butt. It's how I calibrate spatial distance in my head. It's the only way I'm sure I'm creating mudslides. Don't worry. I gave the hose a spit shine. I only farted in there and updated my Facebook so don't worry too much. 

Listen up, Twitter jokesters: stop with the Superb Owl stuff. It's not funny. It never was funny. An owl killed my entire family in the jungle and I really appreciate it if you take that into consideration before making light of any fucking owl by calling it superb. 

All right, go out there and slap some butts. Drink some beer. Eat some Doritos and get some Coke Energy Drink: the one for your nose. All praises be to bitcoin. 

Go buy Dark Moon Digest 38. I've got a story called Swollen Dry Sockets in there and DMD is consistently the best horror in the business. Buy direct or subscribe to DMD here or buy it off Amazon. 

Buy my latest book Invasion of the Weirdos. Direct from Perpetual Motion Machine Publishing or buy it off Amazon here. 

Friday, January 24, 2020

The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest EXPLOSIVE OLIVE EDITION

I've got a story in the new Dark Moon Digest. It's about dentists! Everyone loves teeth horror! Go buy it. 

Blah blah blah, here we go.


Sir! Sir! I can see your dick!


Let them in, Marty. The heater's on. We can have carrots for dinner.

Shouldn't have given that fucking rat brain pills.

Monday, July 1, 2019

Perpetual Man-Babyism

Hello.

I have no style. I wear a t-shirt with my own face on it about twice a week. My other t-shirts are for food trucks that no longer exist. Sometimes I look in the mirror and think, "Maybe you should start dressing better on yours days off of work." That idea never materializes.

Comfort always takes precedence. I am comfortable with myself enough to admit I spend forty five minutes on the bathroom floor crying every morning about how uncomfortable I am at all times during the day.



Anyways, that's noise. Beginning fluff. Here's the real stuff.

Recently, I've been in a little bit of a funk. I haven't been able to finish anything. Can't finish movies without falling asleep, can't finish books, can't finish my own damn stories. I still have brief moments of electricity where I can pump stuff out quickly but afterwards, I'm exhausted and I just want to sit on the couch and scroll through social media making fun of everything.

It's no good.

But the first step of fixing a problem is identifying a problem.

There's this regular at my place of work. Quiet dude. Always reading. We trade recommendations, we rarely take each other up on our recommendations but our interactions are always pleasant. I told him I was having trouble finishing anything and he said to me, point blank, "You just gotta make the time."

I'm a brute-force type of learner. If I don't know something, I fuck with it aggressively until I make progress. I jump into the problem. I make the time for the problem. "You just gotta make the time." This sentence resonated with me.

I picked up the Michael Moorcock book I was loving but taking forever getting through and started reading. I sought the advice of my pals, Miguel and Zach. They know comics, they know graphic novels. They gave me a list. Let me tell you, I'm powering through things.

Mister Miracle by Tom King is an absolute masterpiece. It's about the struggles of making time for the things that pull you; your obligations and your duties. As a writer and a soon-to-be father, the book pulled me in immediately and wove an emotional fabric that was funny and satisfying panel after panel. The artwork is also top notch.

I've got Hoopla (you should get it if your library offers it) so I've also rented Vision by Tom King. It is also a great story that asks about humanity and family in ways that you don't expect a "superhero" comic to do.

But I've learned something here. I've learned that the popular concept of "superhero" is often condescending. I used to be one of those people. I am learning that a superhero is simply a medium to weave a narrative. Some narratives are just monster of the week slug fests. That's okay. Good guys win, bad guys lose. Some narratives dig deeper. Both types of narratives have value.

When I was a kid, I looked up to my oldest cousin. He was cool, knew everything, and had the best, meanest-spirited insults. I loved him. Still do, in fact. He was a phenomenal artist and he always drew one character more than any other: Spawn. I noticed Spawn is racing to #300 so I decided I'd pick a recent one up. #298. I used to love Spawn. It was the dark hero. It was the cool hero. Well, this shit is not good. I don't know if it's me or if it's Spawn but it is overwritten. The text bubbles are almost always exposition and telling the reader what is happening in the story rather than letting the art do any legwork. I'll probably look at #300 out of nostalgia.

The point is, I'm allowing myself to explore different mediums of narrative and I'm starting to immerse myself in reading again. It's not all comics and graphic novels but I'm glad I let go of my own arrogance to discover something. It's also paying off in my own creative work. The more you read, the more you write. And that's all I want to do, anyways.