merkley???: I May Not Be God, But at Least I'm Real.

Oh My GGGosh, GGG??? is ToniGGGht!

2009-09-09T11:57:00.000-07:00

LET THE GGGs BE SILENT NO MORE!
Girls Gays & Groceries.

REMEMBER TO EAT YOUR CANNED GOODS!

Now The Sexiest Woman Alive:

Lauren - Delicately Displays Two Dangling Chipmunks While Siitting Indian Style Against Her Bedroom Amongst Flawk Elements, Tangled Jewelry, a Wingburger & a Bagged & Balanced 40oz. Beer

OH YEAH THE BOOK

That's all for now.
Don't GGGet cauGGGht GGGetting GGGoofy with The GGGroceries,
Your Old School GGG
GGGrampa GGGay GGGirl

Hey, Buddy, Yeah You, Holy Crud Only 2 MORE DAYS!

2009-09-07T16:45:00.000-07:00

Are you gonna come to my show? huh? huh? huh? You gonna? Huh? You should, really, you should. Do it. Come, be there. Seriously, come on, what have you got to lose? Just do it. What? I can't hear you. Shut up. You sound retarded. Fine, don't come, see if I give a fuck, I was only trying to be nice. Fuck all you. Seriously, fuck off.

JUST KIDDING!

COME TO MY SHOW!

Now Nicky Bangles:

Nicky - Has a Big Bowl of Fruity Pebbles on a Disco Ball Encircled By his Favorite Shoes, Posters, Beauty Products & Cereals in The Business Corner of His Bedroom at His Mom's House

OH YEAH BUY MY BOOK TOO. DON'T ARGUE.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught badgering people, especially actual badgers.
Your Favorite Dead Badger,
That Cokehead Dude Who Dyed His Beard Black But Still Screams at Me From The TV.

GGG??? Girls, Gays & Groceries

2009-09-02T02:54:00.000-07:00

Hi Everybody!
Remember me? It's Joaquin Phoenix! I have finally completed my transformation and now I am MERKLEY??? just like I never wanted to be. I quit the movies, I quit RAP and now I just take pictures of girls, gays and groceries. JUST LIKE MERKLEY??? I mean ME, I'm merkley??? now.

Anyway, next Wednesday 9.9.9. (upside down 666 -- ooooh creepy) I will be showing a bunch of pictures you might not have seen at Project One Gallery in SF.

The Show is called "GGG???, Girls Gays & Groceries" and it starts at 6:66pm ON THE DOT! Bring your wallet and station wagon because everything is for sale in BULK!

Now Chelsea:

Chelsea - Dinner

Now Chelsea As The Flyer for The Show:

Buy my book now, or buy it at the show!

That's all for now!
Don't get caught impersonating merkley??? when it's just as easy to actually BE HIM.
Your Pal,
Jim Morrison

BFF BBQ With BHO, Dog Fish Adoption Under The Influence of Lesbian Hipster Polygamism & The Longest Reverse Plane Crash

2009-06-22T02:40:00.000-07:00

So yeah, Utah just keeps getting weirder and weirder. I used to dread going back but its becoming such a freak show it's almost fun. Plus, since I'm one of the only people from Utah that doesn't hate black people, I get invited to the presidential BBQ when he rolls through town. (Utahs, don't really hate blacks, I just say that because it makes them so MAD).

Anyway, I was throwing so many one liners at the BBQ I totally upstaged the President. I thought he was about ready to get pissed off but instead he just adopted me as his best buddy for the evening so if you need any presidential pardons in the near future, tweet me.

The big public park that was a few blocks from my house has turned in to a Sea World type theme park with the only difference being no SEA stuff, just fish from the local rivers and lakes. A lesbian girl from the BBQ took me on a tour because she knows some of the trainers. First place we went was to the pool where they keep all the trained fish and do the shows.

"Hey, my friend merkley wants to meet the dog fish, can you call one of them out here?"

"Call him yourself" the trainer said.

No sooner did he say that than out came swimming a fish that looked exactly like a dog. It even acted like a dog, waggin it's tail, making direct eye contact, coming up to get it's head scratched. It was pretty amazing. vegetarians are going to go straight vegan when they find out about this. The dog fish joined a big fresh water sail fish in a 20 minute choreographed routine which was absolutely amazing.

At the end, as we left, the trainer pulled me aside to sign some papers. They were custody release papers for the dog fish.

"Why am I releasing custody of the dog fish? I don't even own it."

"Well actually you do, it's a clone/hybrid of your old dog Chico and that piranha fish you left here so legally we have to get you to release it or we can't do our show that's why we invited you.

I was tempted for a second to be a dick and say no, but how lame would that have been. Plus I don't have a pool. Plus the lesbian chick was giving me a look like she'd beat the crap out of me if I didn't sign. She could've too. I signed them. Biggest gayest signature I ever did. Super loopy.

In the parking lot I caught a homeless dude trying to steal one of my hats out of the back of my Cadillac. Someone had completely smashed the fuck out of the car, ripped the whole roof and trunk open then dumped it in a huge pile of dirty snow. I don't even want to talk about it, way too depressing.

Man, I haven't even told you yet about the really freaky part of Utah yet.

Ok so the new generation of polygamists are now calling it "Polygamism" because they believe in multiple long term relationships but they don't believe in marriage. They are mostly hipster lesbian type girls and it's really just a way for them to have massive dyke orgies while maintaining a very select and exclusive stable of sperm donors so that all of the new generation of dykey hipster kids are all basically related and cool.

For some reason they really don't like gay dudes. I didn't ask.

But, they all know how much I love the gays and how my heritage goes right back to Joseph Smith's inner circle so they were way heavily recruiting me. I have never seen so much ex-Mormon lesbian vagina in my life. They were literally shoving it in my face the whole time. It wasn't as stinky as I would've imagined. I suppose it makes sense that dykes would make an effort to stay fresh considering the lack of options in the interlocking parts department. They dragged me to a hot tub party on the roof of a local dome shaped super market. I knew something was weird about that place. It's called REAM'S, no joke so of course, lots of "reaming" was done.

Yeah I'm gross, I admit it.

I would've been happy to sperm donate on a lot more of them but they really were looking at things long term. I wasn't so into that part.

Anyway, the plane ride home was a the longest plane crash in history, only there was some weird ripple in the universe that made it seem as if the whole entire world was being destroyed by the wake of our plane rather than us being destroyed by the smash of the plane against a mountain. In other words, while we were definitely crashing, it was the rest of the world that was being destroyed, not us. For the first 30 minutes It was really rather frightening watching out the window as thousands of buildings just crumbled to the ground and whole forests were blown away as we made our way past. After a while it was boring so I fell asleep.

Point is:
I need to stop drinking on planes.

Now Christina:

Christina - Purple Pipes Paiute Portrait w/ Pork, Pickled Eggs, Grape Soda & Banana w/ Gold Framed Pics of Prince, Oprah, Harold & Barney as a Pinkish White Laboratory Mouse Stands on Hind Legs Behind a Political Middle Finger Poking in From The Right

BOOK TIME KIDS! YAY!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught considering leaving in the typo "Moistly hipster lesbian type girls" because it's not THAT rad and people apparently universally hate the word "moist".
Your Least Favorite Choice for Dog Fish Clone/Hybrid
Chelsea Lately

I Put Dog Poop on The Steering Wheel, I Didn't Steal Jay Leno's Tap Dance Shoes, & JUDGE JUDY DEF CUPPED MY BALLS!

2009-06-17T12:09:00.000-07:00

Last night some friends and I stumbled across a cop car with it's window down and nobody in it. We were completely unable to NOT prank it. We looked around for impromptu pranking materials and spotted some little baggies of dog poop which we gently placed onto the steering wheel.

Some onlookers loved it while others wanted to kill us.

"You are going to JAIL ASSHOLES!" one lady screamed as a rep for one half of the crowd.

Meanwhile, the other half of the crowd played lookout for us.

Soon some flat-topped military types in the crowd could no longer handle the blatant disrespect for the law and began charging at me from across the street.

"Get out of there merkley, they are gonna kill you!" a lady screamed.

Although she was probably right I thought I'd stand my ground. I can really pull off the crazy vibe when I want and I have seen how small dogs scare off big dogs on the reg so I went charging towards them at twice the speed they were charging me. Their dogs were the first to respond, backing up with tails between their legs.

"MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS YOU DICKS, ITS A FUCKING JOKE ON THE COPS!" I yelled at the men still feeling like they were gonna kick the crap outta me.

"I WILL FUCKING GNAW YOUR DICK OFF WITH MY MOUTH IF YOU TAKE ONE MORE STEP CLOSER."

Of course I wouldn't have, that's just gross, but fat-topped cop types don't like anything that even sounds homo so they slowly backed away.

"NICE JACKET, BY THE WAY, I LOVE THE PATTERN!!!" I yelled to reinforce the threat of gay.

Once we finished dog pooping up the car, we turned on the lights and siren and waited around for the cops to return but after 30 minutes went by we all got bored and decided to bail. Plus the siren was way annoying.

What is this, American Graffiti? LAME.

We ended up at a party in one of Jay Leno's many warehouses. It wasn't a good night for him, someone had broken into his shoe collection and stolen all his faves. He looked really sad. He also looked very suspicious of me. Whatever, I'd probably be suspicious of me too but I had nothing to do with it I swear. I felt bad for him, he really was on the verge of tears and when your head is that bobbleheaded and your body is that puny, welled up tears really get cartoony looking. Cartoony like SAD cartoony. Poor guy.

Judge Judy was there. I get flirty with old ladies because it seems like the right thing to do. This time however it was NOT the right thing to do. She responded by totally grabbing my wang, not in a violent way, like in a way where she was gonna make it do stuff to her kinda way. Like in a cupping my balls kind of way. Yeah, THAT way. She was cupping my balls.

Egads.

I tried to talk myself into a boner because if Judge Judy is tryin to get up on your pole you may as well. RIGHT?

Boner didn't come though, she is just too macho for me. I'll be honest, she scared me a little. Instead I gave her a ton of shit for completely giving the opposite impression of the idea that we are a nation ruled by LAW and NOT ruled by snippity, smart ass, one lining bitches who care more about being obnoxious Lady Elaines than being JUST.

Yeah, I really did give her a civics sermon, I lectured Judge Judy, even called her "JJ" the whole time. I can be pretty cool when I wanna.

You know, I really think she listened too, probably because I didn't get a boner when she was cupping my balls.

JUDGE JUDY WAS CUPPING MY BALLS YALL.

Oh yeah, I also told her the Dog Poop on Cop Steering Wheel story from earlier in the evening. She thought it was pretty funny. Apparently she hates cops. I lectured her about that too. She's fucked up.

There's no reason to HATE cops.

Point is:
Lecturing sounds nasty.

Now Joy:

Joy - Poses Near a Ball of Yarn On Mission Upside Down on The Hood of Her Dirty Honda w/ Stuffing, a Fancy Sombrero & a Gingerbread Man as a Googly Eyed Monster w/ a Parakeet on It's Head Watch From The Sidewalk Littered w/ Eggs & a Nicely Wrapped Gift

A BOOK FOR THE LADIES!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught overusing Lady Elaine to represent red faced dyke types.
Your Favorite Rotating Museum,
JJ's Old School Diaphragm

Hehrro to Hahrryrood, My Special Movie Pants, & How to Beat The Fat Black Child

2009-06-15T10:24:00.000-07:00

No secret that the movie business is more and more moving to China, but it's not until you go there to work on a movie that you see why.

Whole towns have been constructed purely for movie making with each proprietor trying to outdo the last. The extravagance really knows no limits and with a total lack of building codes, whatever you can imagine can be built in 24 hours.

For example I took a tour through an entire hotel built out of PVC pipe in 16 hours. It still smelled like purple glue! My tour guide was telling me how Martin Scorsesse had the whole thing built for a film that was only released in Sweden. Apparently the Swedes have so much national pride that not a single copy has been leaked abroad. Whatever, I don't even like Scorsesse, over-rated gum-flapping eyebrow generator.

Anyway, I was there making a film with a supposed up and comer film maker whose method doesn't seem like would produce the best possible results.

I asked him for my script.

"No scripts, all improv." He said.

"Ok what is the story." I asked.

"No story just life." He said.

"So is this a documentary? You want me to just be myself?"

"No, I want you to IMPROV."

"You mean you want me to write your movie for you." I didn't really say that - but I should have.

Normally I'd be interested in this sort of thing but the dude really didn't have his shit together. The pay was crap and he had plenty of other "actors" milling about trying to write his movie for him as well so I told him I needed my "special movie pants" that I left back at the hotel. Really I just wanted to explore the crazy movie sets around town.

I got a little lost on the way back to the hotel, made a wrong turn into the underbelly of a replica soccer stadium. There was a big fat black kid walking right next to me. Whenever I increased my pace, he increased his, if I slowed, he slowed too. He was a cute kid about 8 years old or so but it was still annoying. We ended up in a full on sprint down one of the longest hallways I have ever seen. Guess I'm more competitive that I like to admit. Well at least against fat black children anyway. We both pretended we weren't completely winded. His wheezing was slightly louder than mine which means I WON.

It took me hours to finally retrieve my special movie pants. On the way back I stopped to get a hot cookie at the mall. I didn't really need a hot cookie but something about my genetics causes me to sabotage anything that requires me to adhere to a schedule. FUCK YOUR SCHEDULE I WILL GET THERE WHEN I'M READY LIKE AFTER I HAVE A HOT COOKIE!

Oh yeah I got ahead of myself. Back at the hotel I ran into Rufus Wainright who always seemed like a nice enough fella for a whiney gay. We chatted for a minute. Apparently he lives there. I could see in his room that he had a big custom canopy bed made in the style of a frenchy bombay hutch, it was all inlaid veneer with gilding and such, but the weird part were the old style oil paintings in the inset curvy panels which I am told were paintings of his adolescent nephews as cherubs.

That's kinda creepy even for a homo if you ask me. HI MICHAEL JACKSON!

Anyway, when I finally returned to the set hours later nothing had really progressed. The filmmaker was doing an awful job directing anything interesting. I certainly was not in the mood to take initiative to make his film any better. I'll do my own film if I have to put forth that kind effort thanks.

Instead I just took a seat by one of my friends and I let her talk shit about one of my other friends. She was calling her fat and such, she wasn't much skinnier, but whatever, like I'm gonna get in THAT conversation.

Nobody ever said I don't lead a pretty gay lifestyle.

I never got called to be on camera which is exactly what I PRETENDED I wanted.

Point is:
BEG ME A LITTLE FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

Now Scarlet:

Scarlet - SkyCam

A BOOK TO NOT READ!

LATE NIGHT FEELINGS!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught forgetting to write the last part of your stupid rigidly formatted sign off on the last blog post.
Your 8th Favorite material for a gay looking 3 piece suit,
Pink Velvet

The Counter Top Diamond Maker, Trya's Long Awkward Hug/Sniff, & The Counter Top Ass Rootering Seminar

2009-06-12T08:13:00.000-07:00

So a diamond is just carbon placed under extremely high pressure right? Isn't everything made out of carbon? What about making diamond out of -- oh, say, a dead pet or loved one? Seems like they could make a counter top machine that could make anything into a diamond. You know, like a toaster. I know at least three people who would like a diamond made out of a turd.

Speaking of diamonds and turds, I must go on record as having NOTHING positive to say about Tyra Banks, but certain opinions have risen to neutral in recent days.

Turns out her aunt lives in Springville Utah and is good friends with a friend of mine. Tyra keeps a room and spends a significant portion of the summer there.

Long story short, I was invited over for for a BBQ, Tyra was there, she gave me a tour of her attic bedroom. The ceilings were so low a person of average height could not even stand upright. Tyra painted the floors all girly, and while I wasn't impressed with the design I was impressed that she did it herself. I mean you gotta give her SOME credit for sleeping in a cramped attic all summer and painting her own room right?

Anyway, as things seem to go in my life, the people I like least, like me most. This licks ass. Why do people gotta rain on my hate parade with their long awkward hugs? Yeah, you heard me right, Tyra gave me a really long, really awkward hug. She even inhaled while putting her face in my neck. YES SHE WANTED TO HAVE SEX WITH ME IN HER TINY ROOM BUILT FOR MIDGETS! IMPOSSIBLE TO BELIEVE!

I didn't allow it to happen, I might have, but she had a really cute cousin there and I wanted to keep my options open. I make stupid mistakes like that ten times an hour so big deal.

Tyra also had a fake amputated leg with a seventies suede sneaker on it and she made that herself too. She gets a couple of points there. Right?

Also, did you know she is half Japanese? Well she is. Look at her bellybutton if you don't believe me. It's sorta saggy but definitely slanty.

Anyway, The whole time we were upstairs her aunt and some dude that looks like Jesse James (might've been him) were allowing a couple of traveling salesmen to give their pitch. They were saying all kinds of bullshit about hundreds of pounds of impacted fecal matter trying to sell everyone on some expensive counter top enema/rooter equipment. I shouted down some skeptically inspired Google search suggestions to the subjects of the pitch, but they REALLY wanted to believe the salesmen. I mean who DOESN'T want to believe you can lose 40 pounds of turd matter just by putting a hose up your butt?

Oh yeah, Tyra gave me 3 antique watches. Something tells me they are fake.

Point is:
If you're gonna be full of shit, why not sell a machine that deals with exactly THAT?

Now Scarlet:

Scarlet - Huddles in the Kitchen on The Oven Door With a Root Beer Float & Smart-Assedly Labeled Components & Condiments as a Flaming Pan & Steaming Kettle Sit Stovetop Between a Pillar of Frozen Hamburger Patties & a Float Focused Cat

BOOK!

LATE NIGHT FEELINGS

That's all for now.
Don't get caught name dropping Tyra Banks when it very well couldda been an unrelated half Japanese girl with loose stomach skin, since you really might'a been drunk at the time.

Penguins For Sale, Dumbfounded Corporate Stiffs & The Casserole Rat

2009-06-10T11:35:00.000-07:00

So I decided to trim my beard really short. I did a terrible job. I looked like a 1990s Kenny Loggins with cancer for a minute.

Went wandering though some souvenir shops in a really janky town up the coast. One of them had barrels and barrels of real stuffed penguins, or so I THOUGHT. Some of them were stuffed but the rest were alive. Don't ask me why they all stayed put in their boxes and barrels, I tried to coax some of them out but they were all apparently perfectly happy to be for sale to tourists. I suppose it also had something to do with the fact that they were bred right there in the souvenir shop -- you could buy them at any stage of development, from egg to old dead and stuffed.

Not such a bad life I suppose.

Anyway, I was tempted but I really don't need a penguin so I bought some 100 year old overalls straight out of the dryer. NICE.

Later I was hanging out with a bunch of corporate stiffs who behaved accordingly and quizzed me about my finances/ When I told them I haven't had a JOB since 1991 they looked sorta dumbfounded but mostly bitter and jealous. So stupid though because it's not like I was bragging. I'm just simply unemployable is all. Fake authority makes me violent.

Anyway when I got home I went into the kitchen and there was a big black rat taking a nap on the casserole I made earlier. He looked so cute all snuggled up I couldn't bear to wake him. As I went to turn the light back off, it heard me and opened one eye. Man that rat was sure comfortable because it didn't even get up to run, it just rolled over for me to scratch his belly. Truthfully, had the casserole been big enough I would have crawled right in and snuggled with that little motherfucker. CUTE!

Maybe I live in a Pixar movie.

Point is:
All authority is fake unless you've got a gun.

Now Kelly Kate:

Kelly Kate - Perched as an Owl on Her Vanity Amidst Her Owl Collection & Wallpaper Which Coincidentally Makes 111 Visible or Partially Visible Owls Total

I MADE A BOOK!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught trying to hang yourself with string cheese.
Your First Choice For Prom Queen,
Some Stupid Bitch

LATE NIGHT FEELINGS IS ALMOST UP AND RUNNING. I think it's gonna be sorta fun.

The Lovable Gay Coke Dealer, The Lovable Gay Cop That Never Happened, & The Not So Lovable Provo Experience on Endless Repeat

2009-06-02T04:59:00.000-07:00

I don't know why I keep moving back to Provo, it never works out and I always end up back in SF, but there always seems to be someone else convincing me to go back. This time it was an old friend from back then who has recently been living in LA and a totally lovable gay coke dealer friend of mine here in SF that lead the charge.

The Lovable Gay Coke Dealer ended up buying my old house and converted into a really janky mish mash of half constructed rooms built on top of one another all connected with a very questionable spiral staircase. They pitched me by saying they were starting up a new band of all DJs, I'd have to dress up like a Gay Cop which of course sounded like a lot of fun at the time.

I couldn't get my old room back, some other weird artist was there. Instead I was going to live in the old vault in the basement which was being vacated by a lesbian photographer pal also from SF, she is starting a business making automobile mashups and was moving to the mid west. Her flagship design is a mix between an old VW bug and a 57 chevy. It's pretty cool looking if you like that sort of thing, but it reminded me of Melrose avenue circa 1992. I think we have all had enough of that. SORRY LESBIAN PHOTOGRAPHER FRIEND!

I got all geared up to fix the weird staircase and paint in floor numbers so that I would stop walking in on my new roomies during private moments when I realized my life in San Francisco was way fucking better -- like what the fuck was I thinking. I don't wanna be the gay cop in a band of all DJs. SERIOUSLY.

Plus the two friends moved back to LA and SF respectively anyway.

BIG IDEAS!

Point is:
Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol:

Now Kelly Kate:

Kelly Kate - SkyCam

Oh wait -- my BOOK

That's all for now.
Don't get caught throwing the baby out with the Lovable Gay Cop.
Your Favorite Lovable Gay Cop,
The Not So Lovable Gay Indian.

also, coming soon: LATE NIGHT FEELINGS

The Underpants & Socks Floor Slide Party, Taze Me Not Amigos, & The Greatest Chase Story Never Told

2009-06-01T03:56:00.000-07:00

I cleared out all the furniture in my house and shined up the floors. I had company over so I got down to my underpants and socks and started a slippery-socks slide-a-thon. I don't know why this has never made it as an actual olympic sport. Who the fuck needs SKATES when slippery socks and a shiny floor is just as fun if not more? Anyway, I had to coax them all a bit but eventually we were all in our underpants sliding around on the slippery floor. One girl had sweaty feet which doesn't work so well for slipperyness so I cut out a piece of plastic the size of the bottom of her foot as a sweat barrier. That took care of that.

We all ended up leaving the house in our underpants. I somehow lost track of the group, maybe they ditched me. I doubt it though. I started feeling a bit underdressed. I came upon one of our many mexican cowboy clothing outlets but I couldn't find the door. The only one I could see was up a ten foot ladder which I quickly scaled only to find that it wasn't a door at all. Someone below spotted me and rushed to report me as a vandal. Less than 20 second later there was a team of Mexican security guard waiting for me as I descended.

"Hey don't taze me guys. I'm just trying to find the front door to buy some pants and new socks cuz I wore mine out sliding around on my newly waxed floors with a bunch of girls in their underpants, which is why I'm in MY underpants."

They weren't believing me. I could hardly blame them. Sounded like a big lie. The truth often does.

Anyway, they were circling the wagons like I was a crazy person and before I knew it there were no fewer than 50 men and women with tazers coming after me. I'd tell you the whole long story of how I eventually escaped after beating the crap out of at least ten of them but I realize that highly suspenseful chase scenes with adventure, violence and humor around every corner are really boring so I'll spare you.

I will say that I ended up in the midwest in the snow where I hopped onto an olympic rowing team boat and they raced me to safety in a total off season blizzard.

Fun times.

Oh yeah I also rode home back to SF with a family in their homemade convertible van. I can't remember any of their names. Nice people though.

Point is:
Cadillacs will now be manufactured by the United States Government so If I seem suicidal that's why.

Now Kelly Kate:

Kelly Kate - Candy Halo

Oh wait -- my BOOK

That's all for now.
Don't get caught copying Cuba like it's some how a good idea.
Your favorite President whose dick in your mouth is making it hard for people to understand you.
Yeah, THAT guy, HIM.

also, coming soon: LATE NIGHT FEELINGS

The Infant Head Coach, The Wind That Took My Dog, & KISS w/ The Old Lady Sorority

2009-04-24T10:38:00.000-07:00

I met the head coach of The SF Giants. He had the head of an infant. I'm not being poetic here, his head was literally infant sized. His hair was baby fine, he had no facial hair and his eyes were puffy and shut. He also had no teeth.

HE HAD THE ACTUAL HEAD OF AN INFANT I TELL YOU.

I didn't check for a soft spot but I'd bet my dad's left nut he had one.

I saw my old dog Senator Ron "Chico" Lopez. He wasn't looking so good. He was swollen and puffy and had what appeared to be multiple stab wounds. If it wasn't for his sweet gentlemanly demeanor, I probably wouldn't have even known it was him.

I asked his new family if they could get me some blankets for him. But they said the wind would just blow them away anyway. I'm sad he moved away. He had his reasons I suppose. I was tempted to ask him to come back home but I didn't want to impinge upon his dignity by inferring that maybe he made a mistake by leaving me for greener pastures.

It was great to see him, even if he did look like a sack of death.

They were right about the wind though, a big gust came along and blew the whole family clean away, hybrid station wagon and all.

Chico seemed indifferent about it.

I left Chico and visited The Blue House which has been a sorority full of 8-15 girls for the last 50 years or so. It started out just being a group of college roommates but eventually, girls stopped moving out and they all just grew old together. It's not the same now that they are all old. They should rename it The Blue HAIR House, AM I RIGHT OR WHAT?

I bet the parties suck now.

On a side note, before the girls moved in someone was brutally murdered in one of the basement bedrooms. I, along with many others, knew about it but most of the girls didn't. I made out with a girl in The Murder Bedroom once. She didn't know the history and I didn't tell her. It was her bedroom for fucks sake. I'M NOT A CREEP YOU KNOW.

Out back by the garage were a couple of old grampa dudes that were probably some of the original visitors to The Blue House. They were listening to KISS as if it was a brand new band. I pretended that they were awesome but really it made me want to cry.

I cry about the gayest shit.

I came away from the day wanting to release my next record on vinyl.

SO STUPID.

I hate people who blather on about vinyl.

Point is:
NOSTALGIA CAUSES CANCER

Now Natalie:

Natalie - On the Back Porch w/ Ass Backed Up Against a French Fry Producing Water Heater Enjoys a Smoke, Wine & Cheese as a Lab Rat Attempts The Same, a Burrito Leans on The Railing & a Mountain Goat Watches From The Kitchen

My friend Chase Lisbon is having a SHOW!

I HAVE A BOOK!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught skipping the part where you had lots of disconnected public sex with a girl you never dreamed you'd do but what do you do when that vagina is all up in your face like that?
Your Best Way To Describe The Appearance of That Very Vagina,
Neatly Folded Cold Cuts

The Sheriff of Bullshitsville, The Cowell/Carell Pizza Family Band, & The Questionable Goose Bumps

2009-04-22T01:23:00.000-07:00

I saw a couple of kids breaking the law over by the dorms. Since I'm 65 years old and the Sheriff of NotMindingMyOwnBiznizzVille, I put them under citizens arrest and called the cops. I blocked them in their car and took away their keys. They didn't seem too worried and it annoyed me. After 20 minutes waiting I wondered why the fuck I even gave a shit about whatever crime it was that I had already forgotten. My pride obviously got involved because I was still acting all authoritarian and dickheaded even though they obviously weren't the slightest bit concerned.

They were having fun.

I was not.

That goes against everything I stand for and is therefore BULLSHIT.

So I made some jokes and let them go.

It had nothing to do with the fact that one of their friends came along who very well may have been the Incredible Hulk.

Then they invited me to their party.

The party was housed in a multi level Pizza shop. The bands performed behind the counters of the various kitchens. The music wasn't very good, but the pizza was. Pretty impressive when a band can make a decent pizza while playing instruments.

My next door neighbor showed up and demanded I watch the video she made of her sentencing at the courthouse. She and all her friends turned the proceedings in to a choreographed musical complete with singing, dancing and crazy blood stained costumes that I think she borrowed from my girl. They REALLY did it. Look it up on youtube. It's pretty awesome.

She only got a one year prison sentence. I don't know what her crime was, I didn't ask. It's better not to know the prison sentences of your next door neighbors.

Oh yeah, all the pizza chef/band dudes were brothers. Guess who the oldest brother was. Steve Carell from The Office. He wasn't in any of the bands, but his influence was pretty obvious. He was the business behind it all. I had a short conversation with him and he was nice and everything and not at all like his character on TV. He introduced me to Simon Cowell who apparently offered a record deal to the whole Carell Family Band. Simon Cowell was also nothing like his TV persona.

"You know I really like your show." I said.

"Really? I wouldn't have expected that. I think it's pure rubbish." He said.

"You don't think that, it's a singing competition, what's not to like?"

"You're right, it's my attitude that's pure rubbish."

Then he slapped my ass which seemed kinda gay.

SURPRISE!

finally, a comedian friend of mine came by and interrupted us, he wanted me to help him plan his "comedy schedule". I looked at his calendar where he had an entire month of jokes planned out minute by minute. I took my sleeve and erased it all.

"Don't plan things. Make jokes about the people in your audience. People like to feel included. You are funny, funnier than most, If you invent your routine on the spot using the stories of the people in your audience they will follow you like you were Jesus."

We both got goose bumps from my lame speech. I hope I didn't just wreck his career.

Point is:
Goose bumps are inadmissible in a court of law.

Now dredg:

dredg - Dinner Portrait with Snortzle, Soil, Budding Plants, Sprinkler & Hole in The Wall

www.myspace.com/dredg

www.dredg.com/

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dredg

A BOOK? REALLY? YES REALLY!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught not telling the part where Simon Cowell chased you across the park while throwing pizza dough balls like they were water balloons.
Your Favorite Secret Ingredient in Paula Abdul's Drink,
Fermented Turtle Jizz

The Bashful Streaker, The Stretcher Spectacle, & The Landlord's Benevolent Ray Gun

2009-04-20T15:47:00.000-07:00

Last night one of my fag friends dyed his hair blonde and was hell bent on going streaking through the streets to show it off. I agreed to go because streaking photos are rarely lame. However when we got out there and he was prancing about all naked and oiled up he suddenly got super shy about having any photos taken (I wasn't streaking BTW). Anyway, since he basically wrecked my fun by being bashful about the photos I decided to have some of my own fun trailer surfing which is exactly what it sounds like, when a flat bed trailer drives by, you hop on and basically risk your life acting like a complete butthole.
Gay rating: 4 out of 5 stars.

I ended up finding an old ambulance stretcher in the Mission. I did as expected and stretched out upon it. I'm somewhat visible to begin with, what, with the beard, sunglasses, purple suit and cowboy hat etc... but weezies, if you are really looking to be seen, a stretcher is a sure win. Don't know whether people thought I was injured or not, but they certainly did like taking photos with me. I even signed 3 boobs on 2 different people. (3 total, not 2 sets of 3 boobs.)
Spectacle rating: 4 out of 5 stars.

At one point a crazy looking black skater/homeless dude was running full tilt in my direction, I could tell that he as planning on jumping over me but at the last second he chickened out. I lambasted him for being such a pussy.
Up In My Shit rating: 3 out of 5 stars,

I also met three girls in matching sweaters. One of them gave me a plastic bag with a ray gun in it.
Precious First Gift Rating: 2 out of 5 stars. (the plastic bag still had sandwich gunk in it)

When I got home one of my tenants was parked in my driveway. I was of course a bit annoyed. When I asked them to move they gave me a ton of shit about it. I let it go because they are generally super duper nice and I could tell they were completely HAMMERED. They probably won't even remember doing it.
Saintly Landlord Rating: 5 out of 5 stars.

Point is:
I know I'll be in that number, when the taints go marching in.

Now dredg:

dredg - Bathtub Portrait with Snortzle, Butterface, Scale & Black Balloon

www.myspace.com/dredg

www.dredg.com/

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dredg

It's big and heavy and has lot's of pictures.

That's all for now,
Don't get caught leaving out the part where you promised to streak too but really had no intention of doing so.
Your Most Ideal Landlord Unless You Are Black and Afraid of Gigantic Vaginas,
Lisa Lampanelli

The Nine Year Lunch Break, The Insubordinate Typewriter, & The Natives With The Poked Out Eyes

2009-04-16T18:20:00.000-07:00

So I've had the same job since 1991. Not very many people can say that. People sometimes ask me how I have been able to do it. The answer is simple, I only go in once every 8 or 9 years, or really, whenever I have a panic attack and remember that I never actually officially quit.

I had the panic attack yesterday so I gathered up all my shit and went in. I always pretend like it hasn't been 8 or 9 years since I was there last. I'm always surprised that my desk was just as I left it.

Being able to convince your boss that you were just taking a long lunch for 8 or 9 years is a talent I am proud to possess.

"Hey Merk."

"Hey Boss."

"Thanks for saving my ass at corporate."

"Oh you'd do the same thing for me." What he was talking about I hadn't the slightest fucking clue but if he wants to believe I saved his ass, I ain't gonna fight him.

"I gotta get busy with all this paperwork, I'll talk to you later boss."

I went back to my desk and took out some oversized paper, crammed it in the typewriter and began typing out all the reasons why I should quit that job. I could fill a thousand rolls of toilet paper.

Do they make toilet paper dispenser slash typewriters? I want one.

I was at work all of 20 minutes when I realized it was time for another 8 or 9 year break.

BYE JOB!

I also went back to Brazil over the weekend. When I was last there I was a Mormon missionary, this time I was a long haired beardy dude hell bent on ungodly pursuits.

I could have probably chosen a better friend to pick me up at the airport. I ended up in the way way back of his little Brazilian VW station wagon for a 300 mile ride out into the jungle. I tried tweeting the whole thing but fucking SPRINT..

When we finally got out to his farm in the jungle, the natives were playing their favorite native sport. My friend would give you a long explanation with all this "native culture" this "lost culture" that, but it's basically naked football with arrows. Natives seriously don't care about being shot by arrows. They are stupid and half their eyes are poked out.

OH I'M SO FUCKING INSENSITIVE.

Point is:
OH MY GOD PIRATES!

Now dredg:

Dredg - Trunk Portrait in a Black VW Jetta

www.myspace.com/dredg

www.dredg.com/

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dredg

I DO TOO HAVE A BOOK!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught giving porn to the natives and the missionaries trying to convert them.
Your Most Unmotivated Missionary to The Banshees,
Any Old Jew

Fixing The Blind Man's Boat, The Goop on The Poop, & After Hours at The Food Court

2009-04-15T18:00:00.000-07:00

I was fixing a blind man's boat when a big wad of goop came rolling across the deck.

"Whut thuh" I said as I motioned to a seagull.

I thought it must be old varnish or maybe even a jellyfish. I sounded the alarms:

"Uh, doods, moving goop over here..."

Nobody gave a shit. Deck goop must be common to boaters. I wouldn't know, I don't know anything about boats. I was only helping cuz the guy was blind so how would he know if I did a shitty job?

I suppose if he drowned he would know. He'd probably be better off anyway, blind people are creepy.

Maybe it was ham jelly.

OR NO, ew gross, maybe it was that blind person eye goop. BARF.

Anyway, the eye goop schlubbed around the deck like it was looking for something. Suddenly it bee-lined for the corner (I didn't know eye goop could bee-line either). I admit the next part sounds made up but I SWEAR ON A STACK OF BUBBLES the eye goop was headed for a pile of POOP.

"The goop is getting with the poop!" I mentioned to the others.

Of course THAT got their attention.

So we all sat around watching this big ball of eye goop have it's way with a pile of poop.

It kinda made me sad because it made me think of Anna Nicole.

Also, I have no idea who's poop it was. But I have my suspicions.

THIS LIFE CAN BE YOURS!!! SET SOME GOALS PEOPLE!!!

Later on I went to dinner with some friends of friends. They have an "after hours club" in the food court at The Mall. The bulk of the crowd were Mormons so when I asked for a drink I instead got well wishes and invitations to "get my crap together man". I grew up Mormon so I knew the speech and wasn't having it. Instead I turned the tables and gave a really inspirational sermon on the virtues of being wasted.

I had graphs.

There was another ex-Mormon there too. He was wearing a missionary placard with swear words on it and each time I made a killer point he'd point a laser pointer at one of the other missionaries and he'd go "pew pew pew"

Needless to say, he was an embarrassment to ex-mormons everywhere.

"Pew pew pew" was NEVER funny and certainly NOT CUTE, not even when nerd girls do it.

OH LOOK WHO'S GIVIN FUNNY LESSONS, MR. GOOP ON POOP!!!

Anyway,

Point is:
Tell your own fuckin' story then.

Now dredg:

dredg - Upside Down Driveway Portrait With Floating Hammer

www.myspace.com/dredg
BOOKS ARE FANTASTIC!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught slipping in the term "bee lined" as a sneaky joke about the roaming eye goop of the "B" "LIND".
Your Favorite Thing Besides Blind People Eye Goop,
Deaf People Dancing

Making Out With Big Ben, Hanging Out With Dudes Fantastic, & Working Out With Exciting Punctuation

2009-04-14T04:11:00.000-07:00

I made out with a girl with a really round face.

It felt like I was making out with a clock.

She had some dude friends that I had to pretend to like. Before you get all indignant, you probably don't enjoy the douchey dude chit chat any more than I do. They wanted to talk about sports, I tried to talk about sports bloopers but it sounded like:

"and then the dude slipped on his butt and then the ball hit him in THE BALLS!!"

Sports bloopers are better seen than described and it doesn't quite qualify as sports talk anyway.

I bet gay dudes like sports bloopers enough to talk about them. I prefer the gays for such reasons.

Anyway, I gave it a good effort, but when they left the room and came back dressed like me I knew I was headed straight to MurderMeWithDranoFiveThousandTimes Town.

Of course I'm exaggerating, they were fine fellows. Actually, we became best friends immediately. They grew beards, put on sunglasses and we hit the TOWN Man! Was it ever FUN! Girls weren't talking to us, we were driving around in a SWEET VW bug. I bragged about the time I went all the way to New York in the back seat of a VW bug. They asked me "how many of them chicks do I bang"...

THEY ASKED GREAT QUESTIONS!

MY STORIES WERE FANTASTIC!

TIME DIDN'T CRAWL AT REVERSE DEAD TURTLE SPEED AT ALL!!

I LOVE DUDES!!!

Ok, would it be rude to mention on my international blog that they both had sorta iffy skin? I think they both probably read my blog. All cool dudes with questionable skin LOVE MY BLOG!

HI GUYS, THAT WAS A BLAST! GOOD LUCK WITH THE SKIN!

Oh yeah, another awesome thing about hanging out with ClockFace's dude friends was that LUCKILY, my clothes were WAY TOO SMALL!! YES I AM YELLING, IT'S THAT EXCITING! I LOVE TO BE STRANGLED BY MY OUTFIT! BOA CONSTRICTOR CLOTHES ARE COOL! Oh yeah, and my shirt was a Hawaiian shirt and I LOVE Hawaiian shirts. Too bad I didn't have a parrot.

Jimmy Buffet is SOOOOOO GREAT! I wish HE was my best dude friend.

JIMMY BUFFET PROBABLY HAS A PT CRUISER!!!

SARCASM IN ALL CAPS MAKES EVERYTHING TEN TIMES AS FUNNY!

WAIT, JIMMY BUFFET PROBABLY DOES HAVE A PT CRUISER!!

HOW IS THAT SARCASTIC!?

Last thing about Dude's Night Out. The one dude, not the one one, but the other one, yeah that one, guess what.

HE ONLY HAD 2 DOLLAR BILLS WITH THE FACES CUT OUT. Talk about a conversation starter.

Wow, I'm really pooped from yelling so much.

Point is:
TYPING IN ALL CAPS WITH EXCLAMATION POINTS IS A GRUELING WORK OUT!!!

I AM IN SHAPE!!!

Now Violet Blue:

Violet Blue - Portrait with Halo of 13 Freebie Dildos & a Sacred Heart/Butt Plug

Dogs Like to Read My Book

That's all for now.
Don't get caught intentionally sports bloopering cuz it doesn't count and everybody can tell...
Your Favorite Sexual Assaulter
Marv Albert

Hitting on a Normal Sized Girl, Going Home With a Short Girl & Sleeping With a Dwarf

2009-04-13T00:27:00.000-07:00

I do alright with the ladies, I mean, I ain't no Wolf Blitzer or anything, but I ain't complainin.

Last night though, last night, ALL the ladies wanted me.

Well ok, .... one lady wanted me, but she REALLY wanted me.

I wasn't sure what to do. She was movin FAST, not in a "hey I wanna grab your nuts" kind of way, I wasn't THAT lucky, more like, "hey lets buy a dog together and file joint returns".

What I'm trying to say is that she wasn't that cute and she was also pretty short. When I say short, I mean borderline midget. Ok probably not even borderline, she was full-on midget height -- but proportional, without the nibbly cheetos fingers. She was just really really tiny, and kinda ugly too. Or at least she became that way, or seemed that way, but that was way way later.

I say "way", way too much.

Anyway, I'm getting way ahead of myself. I'll back up.

I met her at a house party and I thought she was really cute. As she approached me, she did so in such a familiar way that I thought for sure that I must have known her from somewhere else. But she was way too cute to have forgotten. Then again, I do know a LOT of pretty girls.

"Well hello there handsome aren't you a breath of fresh air." she said as she leaned in and grabbed my arm.

"Hey nice to see you." I said.

I always say "nice to see you" to people who I think I may have met before. If you say "nice to meet you" you're fucked if you already made out with them or took them to court or some shit.

We chatted for a few minutes about the party and whatnot and I was looking for clues about having met her already. But I was getting nothing. None of her friends coming by rang any bells either, but they all kept talking to us like we were a couple. Why would HER friends do that? They'd know right?

I suppose it was because she was acting like we were a couple.

Man this is getting boring. I'll fast forward to the part where we go back to her place because that's the part where she started getting shorter and uglier than I remembered.

I had a seat on her couch and she went into the kitchen to get us drinks. I took a look around, didn't take off my sunglasses, I like to remain in the dark about most of what goes on in the world. Or at least what goes on in your average dumpy apartment.

We continued talking and I continued trying to figure out why it seemed like this girl knew me from somewhere. Yeah I meant to say it like that.

"Wait a minute. That painting looks familiar" I said.

"Ya think?" she said.

"Yeah I made that painting when I was in high school. I'm pretty sure I threw it in the garbage years ago."

And then I saw another one, and then another one, and then a bunch of flyers I made for my old band, and then I noticed a pile of old shoes, MY OLD SHOES.

"Ok why do you have all this stuff? You have been acting like you had no idea who I was."

"This stuff? this stuff all belongs to my roommate."

"Yeah well it used to belong to me. These are all things I made. I threw away all this stuff years ago in Utah."

"My roommate is from Utah."

I looked around a bit more and realized there was only one bedroom. She was totally full of shit. She didn't have a roommate.

Oh man I just got bored again.

Did I have sex with her? That's what you want to know right?

DUH! of course I did. But it wasn't very fun. I swear. Plus I was drunk. At least I started out that way. Turns out she didn't have any alcohol in the house.

So yeah, she probably wasn't really that short and she was also probably much cuter than I remember. But hey, the more someone likes me the shorter and uglier they get.

Point is:
SCIENCE. LEARN IT!

Now Violet Blue:

Violet Blue - SkyCam

APTITUDE NOR REQUIRED!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught accusing midgets of having snack fingers.
Your Savior,
The Easter Bunny

Fantasy Squat Make Out, Hobo Gun Rental & Train Door Tricks For The Kids

2009-04-09T11:46:00.000-07:00

Admit you like the idea of squatting. Look me in the eye and tell me that when you see a crack den on TV with drug users passed out on old sofa cushions, you don't get a little jealous of the lifestyle.

Fine, don't admit it.

Anyway, one of the reasons why you like me is that I actually have the balls to LIVE the dream.

Last night I went downtown and spent the night in one of our city's most fantastically putred squats. It's a large building that has been condemned since the Jimmy Carter administration. He has a dream yalls. There isn't a drug you can't buy, a corner in which you can't piss, a stairway through which you cannot fall. It's really the pride of San Francisco's homeless crack whore population.

I didn't go alone, I'm not that selfish. I brought an old girlfriend with me. She's addicted to lots of different drugs, so she was the perfect choice. After meandering though a maze of slanted, dilapidated stairways, and stepping over dozens of possibly dead transients we found ourselves a cozy little moldy room/hallway situation. We both picked out a sofa cushion, I plopped myself down on mine and scooted it over right next to hers using my thrusting butt as a type of row boat type action.

We both used diaper fingers to toss away some used needles and old socks to make the place a little more romantic.

Then we made out like homeless people for a little while. Drugs have done a number on her boobs, a GOOD number. Losing all shame entirely can be kinda fun. Especially when your lady smells like well, a homeless lady. Actually she smelled totally normal, like a regular lady. A man can fantasize can't he?

We were interrupted by a group of official looking hobos looking for the person who ordered the gun.

"Who ordered the gun?"

"Not us." I said "What kind is it?"

"The suicide kind."

"Oh, hmmn," I muttered and then turned and whispered to my lady: "They have special guns for suicide?"

"They are the same as the other guns, they are just painted orange and are cheaper." she said. "you know, because if you are dead you can't rob somebody to pay the gun rental fees."

"Oh yeah, duh."

We made out for a little while longer then decided to leave.

Except we couldn't find our way out. We wandered around for hours. Up stairs, down stairs, I felt like I was trapped in an MC ESCHER drawing that had been covered in pee and dry rot.

Probably one of the best parts of wandering through a dilapidated squat is the buzz one feels while passing a person on the verge of barfing. BEAT THE BARF! It's almost as much fun as you might expect.

Anyway, we finally found the ladder to the train door. I was hard as hell to open, I had to smack it with my shoe. My Lady exited first (so I could look up her skirt) then I crawled in. The train conductor was surprised to see us. Apparently the door had been hidden and slimed shut for years. The years of having remained shut also caused it to stick open. The train can't move if the door is still open so I had to get off the train, go all the way to the bottom floor and hike up & down all those Escher stairs again to close it. By this time the halls were filled with kids taking field trips lead by the Mayor.

Word had apparently spread about us finding the secret door, so all eyes were on me.

I had to push a bunch of kids out of the way to get back to the ladder leading to the door. I was probably more rough than I needed to be. Whatever. When I finally got there I put on much more of a show than was necessary because I think kids deserve it.

Point is:
Homelessness is a state of MIND yalls.

Now Violet Blue:

Violet Blue - Rude Girl in The Kitchen Sink Next to a Liter of Perv Juice Holding 2 Pistols Loaded w/ Boner Bullets Under Halloween Decor, Hanging Battle Mask Lamp, Throwing Stars, Taser, Knives & Diamond Brass Knuckles as The Alex The Cat Floats in

Not Good Looking? Try Good Booking!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught thinking your pee will somehow cure dry rot.
Your Favorite Social Worker,
DisGrace Jones

People in Purple Houses Shouldn't Throw Phones, Deputy Step Dad, & Every Kind of Tear They Make

2009-04-02T06:07:00.000-07:00

People in purple houses are kinda askin for it. It's not like one needs to search their pockets or look for an excuse to fuck with someone if they live in a purple house. They chose to paint their house PURPLE, what more excuse does one need? SHOW THEM WHAT'S UP!

That's what I did last night with a good buddy of mine. We got right up by the dudes window and whispered all kinds of zingers about the "exotic flowers". We whispered because whispering flower insults is way scarier than saying them out loud.

"Look at this." my buddy whispered. "The fucking purple siding is LOOSE."

"What an idiot" I said. "Flip it, make it make a funny noise."

By this time the old man who owned the place had cracked a curtain and was peeking out the window watching us.

"Flip it, make it make a funny noise." I said a second time.

"Flllooiiignngggblbnblblblbppptptptptptpt."

"Hahah, that's awesome, sounds like cartoons!" I said.

My buddy had a look of great satisfaction.

Well, the old man had about enough of this shit, we saw the crack in the curtains close. I knew that he was probably putting on some Homer Simpson slippers. That's what I do when somebody makes funny noises with the loose siding on MY house.

"Lets' get outta here." I said.

The old man exited his house and headed for his shed. I'm from Utah so I know that old men with Homer Simpson slippers only go to the shed to get the shotgun, the lawn mower or a bag of potting soil.

"Seriously Prince, we gotta get the fuck outta here, I don't wanna get mowed."

Look, I didn't mention my friend was Prince at the beginning of the story because I know how you are, you'd be all up in your shorts about me bragging about my famous friends and you wouldn't have paid attention. You also would have probably given unnecessary significance to the fact that we were fucking with a purple house. It's your fault for being shallow. Anyway, just TRY to ignore the fact that it's Prince because it really has NOTHING to do with the story. He's just a regular guy here. Purple has nothing to do with this either. The story isn't about PRINCE. He's just there, being regular.

Prince hopped the fence and disappeared into the tall weeds. Well tall for him anyway, they were really only about waist high for a non-Prince sized person. I made it to the weeds just before the old man started the lawn mower. My heart was racing.

Prince's phone had been ringing the whole time.

"You should answer that, the old guy is gonna be able to track us through the weeds with your cell phone ringing like that."

"Can't answer it, I'm twittering all of this." he said.

Not to bust Prince's balls, but his tweets are all stolen from Carmen Electra. Trust me, the dude is STILL OBSESSED. It's kinda sad.

"Seriously dude, you gotta stop that phone from ringing, we are going to get mowed man."

Prince stopped for a second, got a destructive grin on his face and threw his phone straight into the air. It popped like a firecracker and made a little glowing purple puff -- duh. See, that's another reason I didn't want to tell you it was Prince because now you were expecting a purple exploding phone. If it was a regular guy you'd be all "WOW A PURPLE EXPLODING PHONE"

Anyway, the weeds were actually taller than I said, over my head even (and FURRY) but one can't tell a story about Prince without mentioning how tiny he is now can one. Still though, forget I said that, he's just a regular guy in this story. NOT ABOUT PRINCE.

When we finally got to town, since we were being chased by a man with a lawn mower a gun and possibly a bag of potting soil, I looked for a cop.

Suddenly, right there in front of me, next to a bent parking meter, was the only cop that I've ever actually known.

"Bruce, how weird, I was just looking for a cop and here you are, the only cop that I've ever actually known.."

Bruce was my first step dad. He turned out to be every lame cop stereotype times three. He even went so far as raising falcons as a hobby. He also maintains a perm and has a mustache -- duh.

He gave me the same "you abandoned ME look" look he always gives his former step kids and actual kids. You see, Bruce convinced himself that when he left my mom, my sister and his two kids, that we somehow abandoned HIM. He definitely went above and beyond the deadbeat call of duty and actually made my little brother and sister feel like it was their fault that he only came around once a year at Christmas time.

But this time his look was even more shifty, more nervous. I noticed my Grampa, his dad, standing behind him. Grampa never gave us the abandonment trip because he stuck around.

But now even Grampa wasn't making eye contact with me.

Of course by this time I had forgotten about being chased by an old man with a gun, a lawn mower, and a bag of potting soil. The fun was over. Now I had to deal with BRUCE.

"Look, I want you to meet my son." He said.

I turned to see a kid who was essentially his clone. Can perms be passed through genes?

I tried to be cool, I tried to be an adult, I knew this new person standing in front of me had nothing to do with how fucked up Bruce was to my brother and sister.

I sucked it up...

..for a few seconds...

...and then I started to cry.

I'm not sure why. I didn't even know he had a kid besides my brother and sister and as soon as I realized he did something in me just cracked. I think I was crying for my brother and sister who he completely abandoned and treated like shit for their whole lives. I had my own father who was great so I was set. My little sister, his daughter, was young enough that when step-dad two came along, she just saw him as her dad. But my little brother, his son, was too old not to notice my dad coming to pick me and my older sister up on Saturday. He was too old not to know his dad was making the choice to not pick him up on Saturday too.

Even as a kid I'd get a knot in my throat if I thought about that.

All my tears quickly turned into a rage about which I won't be typing here because this is a SAFE FOR WORK family blog.

You'd think that seeing him at least having a relationship with one son would make him less of a monster.

Well it didn't, it made him worse. Way worse. It means he knew better.

Anyway, a couple of minutes passed and this is the part of the story where you find out just how much of a regular guy Prince is.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around.

"Merkley" he said. "THIS is what it sounds like, when doves cry."

"HAHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHAHHAHAH"

We laughed and laughed and laughed until every type of tear that could flow sprayed out of our faces.

"Pur-ple Rain, Pur-ple rain...." he sang.

"HAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHHHAAAAAAAAAA"

And then he kept doing lyrics from his songs until he wrecked the joke. He is a bit of an attention whore.

Point is:
Give Prince a break, he is really really short. He means well.

Now Violet Blue:

Violet Blue - One Flash Before Being Bombed in The Boca With The Smoldering Realization That She Has Just Been Stereotyped as An Incendiary Online Sex Blogger

I HAVE A BOOK FOR YOUUUUU

That's all for now.
Don't get caught giving Prince the key line when in fact it was you that turned to him and did the "when doves cry" joke.
Your Liason to The Stars
John Deere

HOLY SHIT I HAVE BEEN WASTING A LOT OF TIME ON TWITTER

I Survived Two Plane Crashes in One Afternoon, I Parade Preached The Fuck Out of Them Brazilians, & The Scientific Squishy Can of Beans

2009-03-17T21:48:00.000-07:00

Got in a plane crash yesterday. We smashed right down into the water about mid flight. Luckily we weren't going fast enough to blow the plane up. The worst part was that the rescue plane crashed right into us instead of rescuing us. The main thing I remember are all the plastic plates falling off the shelves and the huge engine chunks flying towards us.

I never really realized how realistic the plane crash scenes are on LOST until it happened to me.

That show is SUPER realistic let me tell YOU.

Unfortunately the island we landed on was basically a big huge brazilian ghetto. It reminded me so much of my days as a Mormon missionary that I almost unwillingly snapped bak into preacher mode. Apparently I'm still really good at it because it wasn't long before they rolled out the bleachers all along the main street where I gave one hundred sermons in my own little one man parade.

Afterwards, a really sweet Brazilian girl tried to give me a hand job, which isn't something I'm totally against, except she was already giving a hand job to some dude with an uncircumcised dong the size of a can of beans.

She tried to get me to touch it. The wang, that is. I'll admit I was ever so slightly tempted, not because I'm homo but because I wanted to see if it was as squishy as it looked.

Science, people.

Sometimes ya gotta get your hands dirty.

There will be time for scientific wang touching some other time. I passed.

Later I practiced getting the language right with the in-laws.

I wasn't easy.

Point being:
People who don't swear are hiding something.

Now Violet Blue:

Violet Blue - Stands Smoking & Drinking Gasoline, in a Lasso Shaped Circle of Matches, in The Kitchen, With Explosives in The Oven, on The Stove & in The Fridge While an Open One Gallon Can of Karate Lies Open on The Floor

BUY A BOOK AND GET SMART

That's all for now,
Don't get caught saying you didn't touch it when you really did give it a little squeeze just to see.
Your Favorite Scientist,
Dr. DongTongs

I Was Standing in a Room With 1000 People Talking on Cell Phones, No, Wait, That's Twitter

2009-03-13T13:36:00.000-07:00

If the toilet overflowed and all the turds you flushed away 15+ years ago came flying back out into your face, you could call that Facebook.

If every time U crapped, the toilet changed colors, flipped backwards, blared dance music & took forever to flush, you'd call that MySpace

If your toilet fucked up so every time someone you knew flushed their toilet their turd flew out into your face, you might call that Twitter

Follow me on twitter where i will annoy you in 140 characters or less!

twitter.com/merkley

and also, come to the Metermaids art show at the Lower Haters gallery tonight round 7-11ish, my piece of crap is below.

It's CHELSEA!!!:

Chelsea - Earns 13 Tickets On The Sidewalk In Front of San Francisco City Hall & a Booted Three Wheeled DPT Vehicle While Pretending to Be a Meter Maid Using a Parking Meter as a Stripper Pole

That's all for now.
Don't get caught mud wrasslin' city hall.
Your Mayor,
Gay Marriage Guy

BUY MY BOOK DICK!

Fat Old Wrinkled People Swimming and Chanting At The Bank, Oprah's Gigantic Goiter & The Bagel Truck Drove Into The Pool

2009-03-02T00:09:00.000-08:00

It was ritual naked swim day at my bank yesterday. Had I known I probably wouldn't have gone, luckily I didn't know.

This might just be a San Francisco thing, you tell me. Does your bank have a huge swimming pool/baptismal font up on the balcony? Do old people flock in to get naked and crowd the pool droning and chanting religious bullcrap?

Fat Grampas and Grammas look interesting naked. One woman had some type of elephantitis of her legs, all her fat had slumped down around her feet. She was shaped like a hershey's kiss only skin colored with age spots. She looked like a melted candle. I could not see her feet because they were completely covered with the slumping fat. She moved more like a snail than anything else.

Anyway, a halfish type friend of mine was somehow involved in organizing the event. The dude with the curly mustache. I think the point was to somehow attempt to all at once cleanse people of sins while blessing them with wealth.

Maybe my bank is a Jewish temple.

It was a bunch of hooey.

Still fun to see a pool filled with naked old people hoping for big money through spiritual bullshit.

On the way out I saw Oprah. She is a zombie now, or at least she was for the event. She had major goiter, her neck was fatter than her head. Gale was there, no signs of any dykery to report. Sorry.

You'd think all that would be enough stimulus to keep me occupied but it wasn't so I hooked up the personal TV desk to watch the runaway bagel truck wreak havoc on the outdoor pool with a load of at least a billion bagels.

Soggy bagels and old Jews in a pool.

There is a theme here.

Point is:
Cash is Way More Useful Than Jesus.

Now Jenny:

Jenny - Bakes in The Stove as Bubbles The Cat Eyeballs a Falling Cheeseburger From The Microwave, A Mouse Eyeballs Some Cheese From The Cat's Dinner Bowl, a Canary Watches From The Water Bowl & a Nail Lies on The Counter Next To a Bottle of Gay Spray™

BUY IT!!!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught prolonging the holocaust by calling elderly Jewish people rich and soggy.
Your Most Fave Irish Rabbi With a Squishy Fat Eye,
Rabbi O'FlabbEye

I Bought a Van and Then It Got Stolen and Then I Got It Back

2009-02-27T13:48:00.000-08:00

and when i got it back... GOOD NEWS!, it came with a FREE METH PIPE!!!,
and a bunch of hooker clothes and ratty makeup bags
and some Stars & Stripes Fruit Punch
and some Mexican toilet paper
and some Teddy Bear cookies
and some Double Stuffed Ravioli
and some Mini 3+2 Cheese Sandwich Crackers (Cheddar Cheese Flavor!!!)

and even though they stole my brand new $1500 Chinese GPS/DVD/USB/OPP stereo system, inside was a completely different $400 American stereo system undoubtedly stolen from some other dickhead. Poor loser.

I also got a few extra tools to start up my own auto-theft stereo/hooker biznizz!! :)

I called the state parole board to find out about the woman who's papers were in the van, turns out she was locked up the same day for something else. I called numbers on her papers and talked to her husband and grandmother both of whom were relieved that she isn't dead. He mentioned her children which was sorta sad. They had no idea where she was.

I might go visit her in jail and interview her about her time living in my van. Take a picture at least.

If i ever do, look for it here : www.aHookerStoleMyVan.com

what else...

Oh yeah, despite having made it 22 years without any dents, the hooker done dented it right in front of the sliding door. Ran into a pole. Crap. Perfect no more.

DON'T GIVE BLOW JOBS WHILE DRIVING ON METH!!!

Anyway, her name was Danielle McKee and her rap sheet is mostly drugs and prostitution, she probably didn't steal the van, but perhaps got it in exchange for a rim job. -- i don't mind publicizing that assumption.

That's what I have been doing, HOW BOUT YOUS GUYS?

But first, Jenny:

Jenny - Sits Semi-Cornered, Semi-Knock-Kneed & Semi-Nude on The Bathroom Floor While Bubbles The Cat Emerges From Behind The Grinning Toilet & Heads For The Cheeseburger as to Resses™ify The Two Most Vital Internet Components

That's all for now.
Don't get caught using your blog to warn the hooker who stole your van googling her own name that you installed an alarm just in case she decides she misses it.
Your Hero,
Officer Jesus

Accidentally Imitating Tracy Morgan at BYU, Universal Retro Future Day & Hiding My Pranks Under a Bushel

2008-12-22T18:07:00.000-08:00

I took a trip back to BYU with my new friend Tracy Morgan, yeah the funny black dude from 30 rock and SNL. We had taco salads in the cafeteria and I noticed that I was adopting his hyper negro speech patterns. I really don't like it when white people talk like black people but you try hanging out with him. Anyway, I told him I was sorry and that I couldn't help it. He blew it off like he didn't care but just to make sure I started talking like a fag instead. He cared about that. He didn't like it. He thought I was making fun of him. I wasn't.

Blacks are scared of gays. Like I needed to tell you.

Anyway, at BYU we saw the famous father son team of bearded Mormon professors who drank coffee and other caffeinated drinks but insisted that they were good Mormons. Such rebels. It made me sad. Gay.

When we left the cafeteria we realized it was universal retro future day, which of course is the day that the whole universe is made over to look like the retro version of the future. It was pretty cool, although one of the cars I noticed was the Datsun 200sx my mom had as a kid. I suppose it fit the theme ok. I drove that car to my first boob touching experience which was also at BYU, but that's another story.

We ended the day making prank phone calls to radio stations with my friend who owns my favorite art gallery. Actually he did all the pranking. Tracy Morgan was still pissed at me acting Homo even though I only did it for like 30 minutes. I didn't have the heart to break in with some of my own pranks because it comes so naturally to me it would be unfair. I'm really THAT good. I'm not kidding.

Now Le Dinosaur:

Le Dinosaur - Scene Magazine Cover Fall 2008

That's all for now.
Don't get caught taking a vacation when your whole life is basically a vacation.
Your Favorite Fake Santa Claus You Wish Would Come To The House,
Chris Farley

BTW, Speaking of Santa Claus, the next 11 people to order my book BEFORE OR ON CHRISTMAS will also get a copy to give to someone else.

"WHAT? Buy one get one free?"
Yeah, but only because I don't want you to feel like shit buying something for yourself at Christmas, this way you aren't an asshole and I'm basically Santa Claus or Jesus who are basically the same dude only one is old, fat and manipulative by using toys as incentives and one is a passive aggressive hippy who is manipulative by using fire as a threat.

Come to think of it, I ain't like neither of them assholes.

Seeins how normal shipping ain't gonna get the book to you by Christmas, if you live right here in San Francisco I'll even put that shit on my sleigh and bring it to you like WAY Santa style. Or we can arrange a drop off or pick up so long as you don't ask to sit on my lap or pull my beard.

Thats how Christmas *I* am.

My Mother's London Based Daniel Boone Wedding Reception Center, The Burglar Who Looked Sharp In My Stolen Suit & Pilots are Stuck UP

2008-11-11T20:23:00.000-08:00

My mom is now running a wedding reception center in London. It's the same place where a big rockstar friend got married and I had to spend her whole wedding day in her bridal chambers documenting it all.

Too much estrogen. My balls shrank to microscopic levels.

My mom didn't own it then, nor did she own it when I got married there way back when. She has become quite an avid art collector having commissioned a whole room of paintings that looked like old Daniel Boone postcards. In each painting there were at least three bearded men, one of which was an obvious likeness of me. At first glance you'd think I'd be flattered, but that's just because you don't know my mom. Those painting are her way of trying to explain to the world that there are famous men with beards, it's the only way she can deal with her shame, you know, by trying to validate my existence though the accomplishments of beard-os past.

Ew, marriage. Why do the gays want it so much? It's as if they are demanding entrance to a leper colony, you know, just cuz it's exclusive.

Equality does require equal stupidity I suppose.

Speaking of gays, I don't know why I always feel so compelled to drag some gays out of the closet. I get really annoyed with closet gays. They aren't helping anything. I called out half my Mormon mom's staff.

And then we got robbed. One of the robbers was wearing one of my favorite suits. Guess he stole it. I would have been pissed but I have to admit he did look sharp.

Anyway, I snuck out of the robbery and made my way to the old wedding breakfast nook where I snacked on fish, hot dogs, trail mix and donuts.

At the airport coming home I ran into one of my best friends from high school. Apparently I did something to make him think I'm an asshole because he had no interest in talking to me and was obviously pissed. Or maybe that's just they way pilots act.

Nevertheless my feelings were hurt.

Glad to be back from London.

Point is:
You gotta fight 4 your right 2 B RETAAAARRRDED!

Now Natalie:

Natalie - Sofa

In celebration of todays date 11/11, I will be giving the next 11 People who buy my book a randomly selected signed limited edition 18x24 print of one of the girls in the book. It will be a complete surprise which one you will receive. I'll even pay shipping for the print. The prints sold at the show for $111 bucks each so it's totes like a 2fer.

That's all for now,
Don't get caught doing a Naked Lady Sale on Vetrans Day.
Your Assistant Manager In Charge of So Much Important Stuff You Can't Even Believe It,
Your Name Here