Very shortly I'll be heading out to Mom's for the holiday weekend and I'll be gone till like Monday. Going to get to hang out with Brian and Andrea on Saturday which I hardly ever get to do anymore and hopefully I'll get to see some of my other friends that I didn't get to hang out with last time I was in.

Anyways, if you want to hang out on Saturday call me for details.

Oh, hey, as long as I'm making announcements and promoting stuff I should mention the other thing I've been working on.

Some time ago I did a picture for my sister of herself and a friend of hers as vampire-hunter type paranormal exterminators. She loved it, but so did my Roommate Jeremy (Remy or Remdog to you online people). See, I made the picture resemble a comic book cover and the result was twofold. First, my good friend Ryan liked the name "Defective Comics" so much that he bought the domain name www.defectivecomics.com and began building me a website and Jeremy immediately crawled up my ass about making "Black Cats: Paranormal Exterminators" into an actual comic.

Before I knew it he'd drawn 23 pages and I am currently in the process of writing dialogue all over his art so that he can then cram the unholy melding of our talents into the massive pipes of teh interwebs.

Anyhow, there's like 10 pages up already. You can find it at www.blackcatscomic.com (It's home till www.defectivecomics.com is up and ready) or just click the link to the left of this posting. Unlike most of my other links it is perfectly safe for work.

Ok, so I went to the surgeon yesterday. Not a new surgeon, but one I've seen at least once before. See, he's the guy that referred me to the guy that referred me to a woman who referred me back to him again.

So I explain to him the reason for me being in his office yet again, that being the circle of referrals due, pretty much entirely, on the fact that everyone agrees that I need weight loss surgery but Medicaid won't pay for it.

Bear in mind that this very surgeon was one of the people that told me this when I last saw him. Not just that, but he recognized me (most people do, given my incredible studliness and all) so it was to my surprise that HE was surprised that this had been a problem. It seems that he's had several patients get weight loss surgery over the last year and Medicaid paid for all of them.

So I have good news, he's going to get Medicaid to do the weight loss surgery, but this is balanced by my wondering why the fuck he couldn't have told me this eleven fucking months ago.

Anyhow, upside is I should be well on my way to being well very soon. I'll post more details as they come up. I'm actually planning a lengthier post, but I wanted to break this to everyone right away.

Hey, it's within 24 hours of my finding out. To me, that's right away.

Well it seems I do have a rudimentary form of the internet here at Mom’s place. The shittiest, slowest, dialup service I’ve ever used (NetZero, if you’re wondering) and since I have it, and I’m an insomniac, and I have NOTHING else to do, you guys are likely going to get several blog posts out of all of this.

Anyway, this post is about something I noticed while watching the Discovery channel’s Dirty Jobs this evening. On several occasions the host, Mike Rowe, has been bleeped because he said either ‘God-Damn’ or ‘God-Damn it’. See, on television, if you say, drop something really heavy on your foot, it’s ok to say ‘God’, even scream it, but you can’t say any variation on ‘God-Damn’ because it offends Christians.

That’s right, the FCC is protecting the delicate sensibilities of Christians because we all know what an oppressed minority they are. Lets protect the delicate sensibilities of the poor, widdle, Christians everyone!

Sorry. I’m back in Wirt County right now and this is the place that instilled in me my phobia of Christianity and, in a larger sense, all organized religion. I’ll get it out of my system in a few days. If you’re reading this, and you’re a Christian, and you were offended by any of this, well, I guess you’ll just have to get the fuck over it.

So anyhow, he’s been censored many times in the act of saying’ God-Damn’ but tonight he actually used the phrase “I think we screwed the pooch on this one”.

Let’s let that sink in for a second.

You can’t ask God to righteously smite whatever you just dropped on your toes, but you can say ‘screwed the pooch’? Who makes up these fucking rules? Does this mean that Christians are ok with bestiality now? (And given that they’re always trying to say that homosexuality is the gateway to bestiality, then what does this mean for their stance on homosexuality? Can they really be so hypocritical to say fucking animals is ok, but fucking a human if the same sex as you isn’t? Sorry, hypothetical question. We all know they CAN be that hypocritical.)

See, this is something that’s bothered me for a long time. Think of all the nonsense phrases that we as a culture have made up to avoid saying certain phrases. “Gol-Darn’ and ‘Gosh-Dang’, in place of ‘God-Damn’, ‘Gee-Whiz’, in place of ‘Jesus’. I’m sure if my brain were completely functional at the moment I could even come up with some that don’t come from the 50’s. My point is though is why is it ok to make up the nonsense phrase to avoid saying the ‘bad words’ if the nonsense phrase is just a veiled way of expressing the same sentiment?

Here’s a better example; shit. We all do it. Shit is EVERYWHERE, but we don’t always call it shit because shit is a BAD WORD. Why is it bad? Like I said, we all shit. Well, I know I do. Some of you retentive Republicans and Christians might not, but I really don’t care. Anyways though, we all have to deal with shit in some form or an other on an almost daily basis (sometimes more, sometimes less, I guess it depends on your fiber intake), but we can’t use the word shit all the time. Only when we’re with people with whom we know it’s ok can we use that particular word. (Well, sometimes we sit behind a keyboard late at night and fling the word at the internets like we’re a gorilla that’s recently made a trip to Taco Bell, but we’ve already established that there’s something deeply wrong with me.) So to avoid saying ‘shit’ we’ve made up a shitload of adjectives to use in it’s place, many of them cutesy little words that were taught to us when we were children that some of us insist on continuing to use.

You know who you are.

Words like ‘Ca-Ca’, ‘Doo-Doo’, ‘Poo-Poo’, I could go on, but you get my point. Seriously, I really COULD go on, like for days, but I’ve been advised not to after posting the list of penis names. Not for any sense of decency, but because many of my readers favorites were left out. In fact, I was appalled when Rem pointed out that one of my own favorites, ’Wang’, was left off the list. Perhaps we’ll have to take submissions from my audience and do our own list?

But back to my point, why is it ok to say ‘Ca-Ca’ and ‘Doo-Doo’ when we’re all just talking about shit? At least when we call it shit we don’t sound like we’re four-fucking-years-old. Seriously though, I was kinda shocked to hear the censor’s let the phrase ‘Screwed the pooch’ get by, given that it really only has two possible connotations. Either A: “Wow, I really was a jerk and left that dog in a difficult situation.” Like you stuck him with the bar tab or something. Or B: “Wow, I just fucked that dog.” Like you stuck him with your penis.

I guess now we know why he’s the Dirty Jobs guy. (I kid, I love the show. If it gets me more episodes you can fuck whatever you want. Just not on the show, please.)

So yeah, this is what my brain is doing at this hour, starved of entertainment, but still unable to shut off and go to sleep. Looks like I’m stuck here till Friday at the earliest, probably Saturday though, as we’re going to go ahead and celebrate my birthday when Mom gets back because I really can’t afford to come out here twice in one month.

Yeah, I know, birthday, bleh.

So since I can’t really go anywhere while I’m here I’ll mostly either be sleeping or in the garage working on my baby. I’ve got a few little projects I need to complete. Fix some bondo work, even out the primer coat, find the short in the electrical system, that kinda thing. I just hope I’m not in over my head. I mean, I’d hate to fuck the Goddamn dog on this one…


PS: Since the internet connection is so bad out here I can’t use YouTube to find an appropriate video to accompany this rant, so all of you go there and look up the song ‘Fucking An Animal’ by GWAR, turn your speakers up real loud and sodomize your earholes with it.

PPS: My cellphone is being a major pain in the ass this trip and I keep missing calls. So if you're trying to call me and I'm not answering there's nothing wrong, I'm just not getting a signal.

Hey guys, sorry for the lack of notice, but I was just informed last Sunday that I would be heading out last Thursday.

Anyways, I'm currently staying at the Oasis Motel in Springer New Mexico. I'd love to swing by and see some of you guys on my way through, but it's not my trip, I'm not driving (not my vehicle) and besides, we've got shit to do. So if you're in the area drop me an email and maybe we can hang out at some point.

Looks like we're aiming to be back on the 14th or so which means leaving here on probably the 12th, but none of this is set in stone.

Anyways, gotta run. I'll have pictures up soon.

So yes, I am back and things are going pretty well here in Columbus. I'm still adjusting to the idea of being in a town that actually has things worth seeing and doing, unlike Parkersburg, which simply sucks ass.

I know, it sounds like I'm simply bashing Parkersburg because I don't like the place.

Yeah? What's your point?

Anyways, sorry I've been so out of touch with everyone, but I have very few cell phone minutes and I haven't been able to afford the internet till now. This is due largely to the fuckery of United National Bank who decided last month (the first month I got the money amount adjusted for the fact that I live in Columbus) that I needed to pay $150 in overdraft fees that they wouldn't give me the opportunity to examine to see if they were my fault.

The fact that it might have actually BEEN my fault is completely immaterial. I've talked my way out of plenty of overdraft fees that I knew damn well were my fault. And I know what you're saying, the fact that I've gotten good at talking my way out of the fees probably being the reason for them not giving me the opportunity is also immaterial. It's not right to charge anyone $150 in overdrafts for charges that don't add up to more than $30 by my estimation.

These are my rules, I make 'em up.

But THIS month, the government, which told me they switched my direct deposit a month ago, sent my deposit to the old United account, which I closed last time I was in town. So now I have to wait for the old bank to send the money to the new bank and FUCK! I mean, I know I;m not the only one that has to put up with this shit, but does everyone have to deal with everything going wrong in a fucking row?

And I thought I'd run out of things to bitch about.

Thank god for the banks and the government.

Like there's any difference really.

Hey everyone, just checking in to let you all know that I'm not dead. In fact, I have great news! After just a brief while here in Columbus I've seen the light and converted to Catholicism!

I've donated all of my worldly belongings to the church in keeping with my new vow of poverty (I'm currently at the seminary school library) and I hope to find myself in very short order spreading the glorious word of salvation through our lord Jesus Christ in some disease scarred, third-world country.

I'm afraid this will have to be my last post here since my new beliefs are now in total conflict with everything this blog stands for. I hope you'll all understand.

Yours truly,
Ford W. Maverick











PS: Anyone that read this far and took that shit seriously despite the fact that you all know it's April 1st owes me a blowjob.

Contact me at ford_maverick@hotmail.com for directions to my place so you can pay up suckers!



A real post will follow soon, I promise!

But seriously, blowjob, get on that. You know who you are.

Ok, God is mocking me.

I make a few comments about freezing balls and today, halfway through my shower, the hot water goes bye-bye. After I finish getting the soap off and stop shivering I try to relight the pilot light on the water heater the way I did last time, but it's not happening. No gas going through it whatsoever.

On the positive side though, things are still a go for moving on December 1st, my roommate has more or less confirmed that he'll be moving in come March which will help my financial situation and I arranged for the electric and internet to be turned on. All that's left is to get the gas turned on and finish packing.

Well, then I've got to do the actual moving part, but hey, how hard can that be?

Well I'm back home and Grandma is at the rehab place where she's resting comfortably. She'll probably be there two weeks or so.

So I'm back to packing and trashing and trying not to freeze to death. Seems that my absence for the last week, with the heat being off and the freaking air conditioners still in (not running, but in the windows still), the house got a little cold.

How cold was it? I opened my kitchen cabinet and me bottle of olive oil was frozen.

That wasn't a punchline, my fucking olive oil was fucking FROZEN.

I'm gonna go rub two sticks together to keep from getting frostbite on my balls...




PS: I've passed your well wishes on to Grandma and she wants everyone to know how much she appreciates them even though she has absolutely no idea what the internet is.

Ok, all seems well with Grandma, she's still in the hospital, but we're hoping she'll be moved to the rehab place today. I'm just stopping here at the house long enough to check email and stuff.

By the way, I got a call from the apartment people today. They received my deposit and it looks like I'll be moving on December 1st. I'll keep you guys updated as much as I can.

Ok, last night my Grandma (the one that turned 100 on October 29th) fell and broke her hip. She had surgery today and had a steel rod put in it and she's recovering extremely well, but I'll continue to be MIA for a day or two helping out.

So anyways, I'll be out in the county.

So I was awakened this morning by a phone call. I look at the ID and it's a number with no name. Usually in my little world this doesn't bode well. With great trepidation I answer. It's the real estate place. The property manager of the real estate place whom I've been trying to contact forever, to be precise. He explains how he really needs the note from my Mom to ensure that the rent will continue to get paid and this and that, adding that nobody else will ever see the letter so it can't threaten my health benefits or anything.

We talk a bit, I explain my situation, assure him that I understand his and I prepare for another month of negotiating if not an outright denial...

I got the apartment.

I explained my situation, someone actually listened and actually cut me a break instead of being a beurocratic asshole and making my life ten times more difficult than it has to be.

Could it be that it really is just this town? That, perhaps, beyond the gray, toxic, chemical fog of this shitty fucking town people actually use logic and reason and help each other?

Or was it the fact that I offered to pay an extra month's rent in advance? In any event I got the apartment! I'm sending the deposit via money order today or tomorrow. After they get it they'll need a week to get it ready and then I can move in, so I've got an assload of stuff to do in the meantime. This means I'll probably not be updating as often as I have the last few weeks and once I get up there god only knows when I'll be getting internet back. So if you've got anything important to tell me I'd do it soon before I go incommunicado.

Hey, quick update to the November 3rd post.

Just want to make it clear to everyone that K didn't know how strong my aversion to religion was and if she had known she wouldn't have pushed me to go. I went voluntarily because, as I said, I should be above this aversion and the only way to get over it is to face it.

I feel kind of bad that I don't talk about her more on here. Mainly because I've been spending a lot of time either with her or trying to spend time with her and if I don't write about any of that then that's a lot of my life that doesn't get onto the blog.

On the other hand though, you guys have read this blog. I'm sure you can understand why it would generally be a bad idea to post about someone I don't want to unintentionally insult or hurt. you know, given that I spend a lot of time devoted to INTENTIONALLY insulting so many people, it's sometimes hard to read my tone.

But just for the record, she didn't know that my dislike of religion was a full blown phobia or she wouldn't have even brought it up. Hell, I didn't even realize it had become a full-blown phobia myself till I started going there with her and discovering this was a good thing because now I can work past it. Before that though I'd not noticed how bad it was getting because I simply avoided churches as much as possible.

So, in short, my going to church with K has been a good thing.



PS: She didn't make me write this either.

You know that thing where I need to do something, but before I can do that thing it turns out I have to do a second thing, but that second thing can't possibly be done till I get the first thing done?

It's called a Catch 22 and it's the story of my fucking life.

See, I found the perfect apartment in Columbus. A 2-bedroom for less than I've seen some of the efficiencies going for. I can easily afford it on what I'll be getting from disability when it's adjusted for me paying rent. Problem is, the apartment people don't feel that I make enough money to rent their apartment right now.

This is because, since I'm living in my Grandmother's house and not paying rent I'm getting less than the full amount from SSD. As I tried to explain to them once I move I WILL have enough money, because when I start paying rent I'll get the full disability benefit. It's the way disability works. In fact, the disability people said that no landlord should have a problem with this and if they do all they have to do is call the local disability people and they'll explain it. Unfortunately the apartment people don't wanna call the disability people. No, they want a letter from my Mom saying that she's been helping me financially.

I'm 34 years old and I can't rent their apartment without a note from my Mom.

Well Mom doesn't want to write that letter because she's afraid that if she puts it in writing that she occasionally helps me out then disability will use that as an excuse to stop helping me themselves and
I must admit it's a valid concern.

Ironically, part of the point of moving is that once I move and disability adjusts I won't need Mom to help me.

So here's where we are:

I want to move to Columbus to use my medicaid benefits to get surgery to get off of medicaid and go back to work.

I found the perfect apartment and even a potential roommate, but the apartment people say I don't have enough money.

To get the money I need to move, but I can't move without the money.

If Mom writes the letter so I can move then I could lose my health insurance (and with it the money from which I'd be paying the rent on the apartment) and if I lose my health insurance I can't get my surgery done.

If I can't get my surgery done then that eliminates the main reason for moving.

And no, I'm not missing the obvious solution of simply starting to pay my Grandmother rent. It's just that God only knows when they'll finally fix things with the disability. Probably not till at LEAST next month, and the apartment people want to see proof of TWO payments. Even if I wait that long to get the proof they want odds are the apartment will be gone.

Plus, I'd hate to potentially mess up Grandma's medicare by suddenly giving her an income upon which she'd have to file a tax return, not to mention that she'd probably have to file an assload of paperwork with the city. It's not that I have a problem with giving her money, it's just that I don't want to put her in the same boat I'm in.

Fuck it. I'm gonna go get a few hours sleep.

Ok, so a bunch of stuff has happened since I last blogged.

I got the top on my car fixed, Brian and Andrea came to visit again, I attended my Grandmother's 100th birthday, met Zombie in person for the first time attended my second GWAR concert, took a pleasant but unexpected road trip and managed to wrap it up by being a big jerk yet again.

Lets take them one at a time.

My car had this vinyl top on it and it had been obvious for some time that there had been rust collecting under it. It's actually the second vinyl top that had been on it. We replaced the first one 20 years ago or so when we had it repainted, as the original wasn't in such great shape. Well I'd put off tearing this top off for fear of what I'd find under it. Well I took a look when part of it sort of caved in.

What I found was too horrific to take pictures of and even if I could have taken them I couldn't post them here. It was nothing but rust and holes. Absolutely none of the remaining steel was salvageable, so I finally took everyone's advice and went to my Uncle's sheet metal shop to see if someone there could weld some new steel in there. Apparently it was so bad they couldn't do it on site, but he told me where to go to get it fixed and he'd cover it, which he didn't have to do, but it was damn nice of him since it ended up costing a LOT more than I thought it was going to.

Anyways, I got real lucky and found a 1970 Maverick at a local junkyard for $150And they used it to replace EVERYTHING between the windshield and back glass. I got lucky again that they didn't have to cut off the parts over the doors because it would have taken longer and cost a lot more. It took them a week and I got it back last Friday.



I don't remember what I did Saturday. Now that I see that in print it's starting to bother me. Surely it was something of vital importance. That or I got kidnapped by aliens or something. I do remember that night I got a phone call from Brian, whom I didn't know was in town, asking if I wanted to go to breakfast in the morning. Apart from that, nothing.

Fucking aliens.

So Sunday I wake up at like 9 AM in preparation for breakfast, which ended up being at 1 PM. Saw Brian and Andrea and Nate who used to co-habitate in the hell-hole here. We went to the Chinese place which might seem like an odd choice for breakfast till you realize that Chinese people eat breakfast too.

Then I went to Grandma's birthday party from 2 to 4, came back to the house, threw a bunch of random clothes in a bag (because apparently I didn't have time to do it before with the alien abduction and all) and headed for Columbus.

I arrive at Victoria's later than I'd planned, we get to the show later than I'd planned, and meet Zombie, her friend LDG (Living Dead Girl) and LDG's boyfriend (or LDG-BF) just in time to catch Kingdom of Sorrow.

Now most of you guys think I know everyone in my comics in person, but despite the fact that I met Zombie online in December 2002 this was my first time meeting her in person. And yes, she does kick as much ass in person as she does digitally. She recognized me right away, which is good because it would have been easy to get lost in that crowd, but kind of depressing in that it meant that I was as fat in her mental picture of me as I am in real life.

My insecurities aside though, Kingdom Of Sorrow was pretty good:

Derek Kerswill : Drums (Scattered Remnants, Seemless, Shadows Fall, Twelfth of Never, Unearth)
Kirk Windstein : Vocals, Guitar (Down, Valume Nob, Shell Shock, Crowbar)
Matt Brunson : Bass (Shedding Old Skin)
Jamey Jasta : Vocals (Hatebreed, Icepick)
Steve Gibb : Guitar Crowbar, (ex Black Label Society)



I didn't see Toxic Holocaust, but here they are:



But the real reason to be there was GWAR! As always I tell you all that you absolutely MUST go to a GWAR show at some point in your life. Even if you don't like their music (but really, what's not to like?) the stage show is the most incredible thing I've ever seen.

For those not acquainted with GWAR, this clip should serve as a proper introduction:



Oderus Urungus: Lead Vocals
Flattus Maximus: Lead Guitar
Balsac the Jaws of Death: Rhythm Guitar, Backing Vocals
Beefcake the Mighty: Bass, Backing Vocals
Jizmak Da Gusha: Drums, Percussion

And just to make things especially cool, GWAR's sometimes estranged manager Sleazy P. Martini has returned and was in attendance and he's running for president!



But unfortunately, backing vocalist and GWAR goddess Slymenstra Hymen wasn't there.



So yeah, the show was insane. Here's my shirt:



And just because I think it's funny here's Brian after we saw GWAR in 1995 or 96, I can never remember which.



It's too bad I had to censor his eyes out because he looks totally stoned in that picture.

Anyways, that's part 1. Part 2 will follow soon. Till then, here's GWAR's appearance in the Super Nintendo version of Beavis and Butthead, the video game.

OK, I had a big post I was gonna do, but I just don't have the time. Had to put my car in the shop this week and pick it back up yesterday and tomorrow I'm having breakfast with Brian and Andrea, then my Grandmother's 100th birthday, THEN I'm driving to Columbus to see GWAR!!!

This show is at the Newport Music Hall in Columbus Ohio, same place where I saw Motörhead, October 26th at 7 PM. See you there, unless you have absolutely no taste in music.

So it's been an interesting week.

On Sunday I went to Mike's place to see Motörhead and ended up driving into the worst wind storm Columbus Ohio has ever seen.

Mike, his attractive next door neighbor and myself sat on the fire escape and watched the trees bending alarmingly in the balmy 75 mile an hour breeze.

It seemed like a good idea at the time as the power was out and there was therefore nothing to do inside.

While on the fire escape we watched one of Mike's fellow tenants moving his stuff out. Given that I'd planned on staying a few days after the show to look for apartments this seemed fortuitous. I then found out that the attractive neighbor was moving as well. That was good in that it increased my chances of getting an apartment there, but it sucked in that she was attractive and single (and we were kinda hitting it off) and she was leaving.

At this point I'd like to mention, because people keep asking, that yes, I am dating someone, but she and I are not dating exclusively. I say this only because people keep asking and if I don't say anything it makes statements like those last few seem rather disrespectful and that's the last thing I want.

Especially since she reads this.

Hi, Honey.

Anyways, two empty apartments is good. They're nice and they fall within my budget.

Well, kinda.

It fits within what my budget should be once I get up there. I've been worried about the money involved in moving, but I have to do this. Besides, a lawyer friend of mine (yes, apparently you CAN use the words 'lawyer' and 'friend' together) informs me that the disability people down here are shortchanging me, so not only will I get more month-to-month up there, but I may be owed back money down here.

Thanks suckers!

I mean, taxpayers...

Just remember, I'm making this move in an effort to get patched up and begin paying taxes again myself. Granted, the way the economy is going I'll be paying them in Mexico where I intend to flee when the revolution begins, but I'll still be paying them somewhere and that's the important thing.

And I know what you're all saying; “Mexico? Why Mexico? Why not Canada?” Why not? Because EVERYONE is going to go to Canada. All the Americans that haven't been sent to Iraq and stranded there when we run out of money to bring them home AND all of the Mexicans that have come to America, lured here by jobs illegally offered by Republicans who then campaign against illegal immigrants taking all our jobs. In fact, I hope you people don't feel too high and mighty because we're on the verge of becoming to Canada what Mexico is to us: a cheap source of untrained labor for the rich to exploit without the basic human rights of US citizenship getting in the way.

Sorry, got off on a bit of a tangent there.

Where was I?

So yeah, cross your fingers for the apartment people.

Anyway, due to the power being out over like 90% of Columbus the Motörhead show was canceled for Sunday night. Motörhead is bad-ass under any circumstances, but with no electricity, yeah, it'd rock and all, but not to it's fullest Motörhead potential.

You compare:

Acoustic:


Electric:


They both rock, obviously, but the electric one is far more metal and metal = GOOD.

So Lemmy, in his infinite drunken benevolence, saw fit to reschedule for Monday night at which time they kicked major fucking ass. Anyone who doubted them can just go to hell and burn in the pit of the unbelievers.

A side-effect to having no power though was that I was unable to use my sleep machine Sunday night, which meant no REM sleep. This didn't take away from my enjoyment of the show at all, but it meant, in essence, that I didn't sleep at all. It also means I didn't sleep Monday night either, so my original plan of sticking around for a few days to look for apartments was looking like less and less of a good idea, but fortunately Mike got his power pack and I was able to catch a few hours sleep that afternoon before heading over to K's place. I'd only planned to stay till Wednesday or so, but Mike was celebrating his birthday on Friday as it turned out so I decided to stay the whole week and go celebrate.

Then I got the call about the window.

Seems sometime Tuesday or so one of my windows got broken and my brother's cat escaped.

I know what you're thinking, but I assure you, I had my sister checking in on the cat. It did not break the window in an effort to get out and forage for food. The window was broken from the outside apparently. So I had to chose between coming home to sit around and wait for the cat to come back and let it in, then drive all the way back for the party on Friday, or just stay in Columbus. I decided to stay, even though I couldn't get my Mom or sister to tell me over the phone whether or not they'd bothered to get someone to nail a piece of plywood over the hole in the side of my house or not. Mom just said she was going to get Chuck to put in a new window, but shit, I could go back home and still wait a month before that happened. I just trusted that they couldn't possibly be so irresponsible as to leave the house completely open for days at a time (my brother would though) and stayed in Columbus where I continued to have a great time.

I remember spending an afternoon with Mistress Victoria, though due to the sleep deprivation I don't remember exactly which afternoon. At the time I'm typing this I don't know if she's got her power back yet. Despite the lack of electricity though we got out and she showed me around town and we discussed plans for the Gothcoming event (October 3rd), which I think is going to be really wicked and I hope to see some of you there. I got to check out the Bar of Modern Art (BoMA) where it's being held on Friday night and it was pretty sweet. Remember, it's a steampunk event, so come prepared to party like it's 1899.

Yeah, they made me say that. It's the tagline.

So I'm gonna wrap it up now since my focus groups tell me you fuckers don't have the attention span for much over two pages.


Have fun ruining Canada, gringos.

Damn insomnia...

Before I attempt to go sleep, a few notes.

I'll be leaving Sunday to see Motörhead in Columbus at the Newport Music Hall (TICKETS still available)and I'll be staying for a few days to look for an apartment. At this point I'm pretty much going to grab the first one I find that's better than where I am. That being my sole criteria it should be a short search.

If anyone knows of any artists loft kind of spaces that are reasonably priced I'd appreciate a heads up.

Mistress Victoria has asked me to clarify that she is CO-hosting the Gothcoming event on October 3rd, not hosting as I'd previously mentioned. The cost is $20 for a single admittance or $25 per couple, so if you don't have a date grab some random person in line and walk in with them to save yourself some scratch.

I've got a family thing today, need to finish up the new Terribly Wrong strip and pack for three or four days in Columbus. The packing will take the least amount of time thanks to my patented three-step process.

1: Open clothes dryer.

2: Dump dryer contents into bag.

3: Congratulate self on an efficient job done.

So now I need sleep. I'll try to post at least once more before I head out, but if not here's a little Motörhead for you:

Hey, I just finished the new Something Here Is Terribly Wrong strip so it should be up soon. Actually for everyone that didn't get to see last week's strip in the 8 hours or so that the server was actually online last week it'll be like you're getting two strips. Because, you will be actually.

Anyways.

I'm getting ready to head up to Columbus tonight or tomorrow to go looking for apartments. I still haven't found exactly what I want, but it's kinda hard to do that from down here. Anyways, we'll see what fresh hell today offers and then I'll make up my mind.

Speaking of Columbus, Mistress Victoria will be hosting the upcoming Gothcoming at the Bar of Modern Art on October 3rd. From what I understand it's getting bigger every year and it kicks much ass.

This year it will kick all kinds of extra-strength ass as I will be in attendance as a personal guest of the Mistress herself, so turn out and buy me drinks you freaks!

Now I'm gonna go get some sleep, get up, pay some bills, dispose of whatever new mouse corpses have accumulated overnight (Cat: 4 Mice:-4) swing by the mall to get a car charger for my new cellphone and then probably head up to Columbus.

Wish me luck.

So it's been a strange day.

Damn. I say that a lot, don't I?

I woke up this afternoon and washed the mixture of blood and Crazy Glue from the night before off my fingers. I got it on my fingers when gluing shut a relatively minor little flesh wound. I tried to stitch it, but that just made it worse, so I used the glue in what I like to refer to as the 'Rich-Fucking-Sanders Maneuver'.

So I come downstairs, go into the kitchen, get some underwear from the dryer, put it on and head for the living room. Then I hear this rustling noise. I look around, well, listen around and I notice it's coming from the large stock pot I use when I make popcorn, which I'd left on the couch the night before. I look in it and discover this:





You might not be able to tell from the pictures, but he's definitely not fully mature. He's a little one, which is probably why he couldn't get back out of the pot. God knows how many mice I have in this house that could and probably did get in and out of what is one of my most used pieces of kitchenware. This is but one of the many reasons I'm working on getting the hell out of here.


Anyhow, I got the little fucker by the tail and put him in an empty, one gallon, octagonal fish tank I had sitting around and pondered what to do with his tiny ass. Then I remembered I needed to go to my brother's place for dinner. So I just put the tank on the back porch rail (where the neighborhood cats like to hang out) with the lid off and left it for Darwin to sort out.

Darwin and the cats.

Actually that sounds like a cool band name...

Or an Elton John song.






Where was I? Oh yeah, I went to my brother's (put pants on first), had a good time, noticed he still had one of his cats left. They had three, I've mentioned them before, Sugar (Shugie), Spice (Spicy) and Evey (for 'every' one presumes). It seems to suggest they were planning on getting at least one more, but they became a pain in the ass, so Shugie went out to Mom's, Evey ran away, leaving only Spicy whom they also wanted rid of. So I 'borrowed' the cat to try to handle the mouse problem.








I say 'borrowed' because I'm about to move, so I can't take her with me, but I need her for the time being because I have vermin fucking with my popcorn and I can't tolerate that. My brother and sister-in-law however insist that they're not taking her back, so it should make for something of an interesting post when a week from now I leave the cat and all her stuff on their doorstep in the dead of night..

Besides, even if I did find an apartment that would allow a cat (and wouldn't charge me an extra $20 a week for the privilege of owning said beast) I'm a fat guy with a tendency to order a lot of Chinese food with a cat named Spicy. If that's not an open invitation for an investigation by the ASPCA I don't know what fucking is.

Personally I always wondered at the wisdom of naming cats anyway. I never thought it necessary for the same reason I never thought it was necessary to name any of my fish, that being any animal that won't come when you call them by name doesn't need a goddamn name.

The cat does have a name though and now, thanks to Zombie, so does the mouse. I totally forget what is was though. Mortimer or somesuch. Doesn't really matter since, as mentioned previously, calling his name will do a grand total of diddly-fucking-squat.

Plus, I still haven't completely ruled out murdering him and if he has a name that makes it personal.

On a side note, another reason for not naming fish is they tend to die a lot. I've had somewhat better luck with cats. In fact, cats have been responsible for the deaths of some of the fish and let me tell you, when you catch them at it yelling “Get outta there you furry bastard!” works better than calling them by name.

Anyhow, I get back home with the cat in the pet taxi with the food and the big, encased, littler-box dealie and the fucking little bastard mouse is still in the fish tank.

Dammit.

By the way, if you think leaving him on the porch was cruel I had briefly considered tying a string around it's tail and tying the other end to the back porch, but that seemed a tad sick and unusual. You know, as opposed to leaving him for dead in a fish tank.

Plus I was out of string.

So I take the cat AND the mouse back in the house along with all the extras that my brother was only too happy to give me so long as I was taking the cat with me. I set up all the cat's stuff, put the lidless fish/mouse tank on the floor, turn the cat loose and go into the living room.

I can't bring myself to just outright kill the little bastard, but I can use my powers of obliviousness to set up the cat to murder my nemesis for me...

I hear the sound of the tank falling over, quickly move to the kitchen to see the tank on it's side with the mouse still in it and he's staring right into the eyes of the cat. Their noses are practically touching. And they just sit there. It's like neither of them knows what to do next.

Thoroughly disgusted after about ten minutes I flip the tank upright with the mouse still in it, pick him up by the tail and dangle him in front of the cat like a catnip toy.

The cat just stares at him.

I actually drape the mouse over the face of the cat like a Bangkok tea-bag video.

The cat doesn't do anything.

And by the way, yes, I do see the incongruity in not wanting to kill the mouse myself, but doing everything short of putting the mouse in the cat's mouth and working her jaw up and down for her so as to blame it on the bloody cat. I see that incongruity and I choose to ignore it, thank you.

But yeah, despite my best neglect and direct help the damn mouse is still alive. In fact, I even fed him.

On an ironic note, I fed the mouse cat food, The very same cat food that I didn't feed to the cat so she'd be hungry and therefore more likely to kill mice.

The ultimate logic here is that if the cat won't kill it when I want it killed then the only sure way to get the mouse killed is to make it a pet and protect it

There's really something wrong with me isn't there?


PS: Anyone reading this that isn't a fan of horrific cartoon-animal on cartoon-animal violence won't want to click on this video.

The rest of you will laugh your asses off.



UPDATE: Apparently the cat knocked over the tank in the dark and failed to kill the mouse. So he's returned to wherever he's been hiding after having eaten his fill of cat food.

The score is now officially Mouse: 1 Cat: -1

UPDATE: 6:10 PM Mice: -3 Cat:3

Seems she didn't want the easy kill as the second dead mouse I found today appears to be the one that escaped last night. For that reason I've deducted the point awarded the mouse team for the escape and added it to the cat kill count.