“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard: April 04, 2004

Saturday, April 10, 2004

So it’s been a few days.

I should know something about my job on Monday hopefully. That’s at least a small step towards getting my life back in gear, or at the very least continuing to grind ‘em till they fit.

Oh, I went back to the bowling alley today. I watched ‘The Big Lebowski’ to set the proper mood first though. You know, the first time I watched it I didn’t know quite what to think of it, but upon reviewing I see that it’s absolutely brilliant. Truly a perfect movie in many respects. If Bruce Campbell had only been in it then it might have been the greatest film ever made, but I digress…

It's a Cohen Brothers film. Now here's the thing about the Cohen Brothers films, I like them, I mean really like them, with one exception.

Fargo sucked balls.

I'll say it again, Fargo was one of the worst films I've ever sat through. It's only bright spot was the presence of Steve Buscemi (and the nature of his demise), who is in my opinion one of the finest non-Bruce actors of our day.

Anyways, I watched Lebowski because it kinda centers around bowling. Well, it doesn't really center on anything, but it associates heavily with bowling.

But as much as I like bowling, and truly need the little bit of excersise it affords, there is a downside. See, there is a reason why the English language never produced the phrase “As pleasant smelling as a bowling alley”.

I don’t know exactly why it is, but that combination of feet, athletes-foot spray, Icy-Hot, dust, lane oil, cheap cigars and old people is absolutely pervasive. I mean, you expect it to be bad INSIDE the place, but today the funk followed me home. And if you’ve ever been here you know it takes a special kind of reek to win out over the natural baseline stench of my place. The stale-beer smell of the carpet alone is the very stuff of Stephen King territory.

But immediately upon my return to the ghetto I had to take a shower and throw my clothes in my vintage 1960’s Maytag. Fortunately I had enough dirty laundry piled in my bedroom to fill out the load.

Oh, while I’m on the subject of disgusting stuff, there are two more Lil’ Zombie strips dealing with Zombie’s ‘Killer Mold’ problem. I’ve already finished them and sent them, but since the aforementioned mold has actually forced Zombs to move, and it’s anyone’s guess as to when SBC will get her hooked back up to the internet, we’ll all just have to wait.

I’ve also done a kick-ass Easter Sunday strip finished and ready for publication. We had intended to have it up on Easter Sunday, but who knows now?

I’ve done quite a bit of work on the strip now that I’ve streamlined the process. I used to draw them by hand on regular paper (remember paper?) and then scan them using the brand new scanner I bought just a few months ago. But since I’ve gotten better at using the handful of art programs I tinker with I do them almost completely on the computer, thus rendering useless the scanner I just paid good money for.

Oh well, I guess I can still use it to scan porn.

So I'm off to bed. I think I'll go to the video store later today and look for a copy of the Cohen Brothers 1985 film opus 'Crimewave' starring Bruce Campbell.

After that I may seek therapy.

Till then, hail to the king Baby.

Friday, April 09, 2004

Here's yet another internet quiz that I found on Skippy's blog that he ruthlessly stole from Burnt Fuse.




You're Ulysses!

by James Joyce

Most people are convinced that you don't make any sense, but compared to what else you could say, what you're saying now makes tons of sense. What people do understand about you is your vulgarity, which has convinced people that you are at once brilliant and repugnant. Meanwhile you are content to wander around aimlessly, taking in the sights and sounds of the city. What you see is vast, almost limitless, and brings you additional fame. When no one is looking, you dream of being a Greek folk hero.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.


Monday, April 05, 2004

So I woke up early today (about elevenish) and went down to my health club.

That's right, I went bowling.

Where else can you get a little (emphasis on LITTLE) exerscise while having a beer-battered chilli-dog, and some beer-battered pork-rinds and wash it all down with a beer-battered beer? (I don't fucking know how they did it either).

I did allright. I bowled six games and maintained an average of 101, which is pretty good considering I haven't bowled since 1999.

Oh yeah, I just called my old workplace (the one that didn't fire me, but wouldn't let me work) about going back to work, just in my old position, not the one with the benefits and fat paycheck, but fuck it, it's money.

Yes, I'm going back to earning $6.62 an hour for watching television.

That's right, I'll be getting paid good money to do what I've been doing for free for the last two years. I've done the job before, so I know the routine, so I can probably start immediately. Not to mention they won't have to do a new criminal background check since I haven't done anything blotter-worthy since the last one they ran (that had to have been a fun read).

Anyways, gotta go. Gotta call someone else about the job.

Later.