November 30, 2008

Six Things

1. Gosh, wouldn't it be nice if somebody just stapled Jenny McCarthy to a ceiling somewhere and left her? It would be terrible if she starved to death up there, yeah, but... no, wait. Actually I'm pretty okay with that.

2. I played too fucking much Mario Kart today. I see blue shells when I close my eyes. Why, why did I wake up so utterly spazzy? I fucked off and played video games all day despite my total commitment to getting the comic done. It can't have anything to do with the 13-hour holiday get-together shopping/more shopping/dishes/cleaning/entertaining/table breakdown/dishes again/cleaning again marathon yesterday, could it?

3. On second thought, maybe I should go play some more Mario Kart.

4. Took dog for bike run in the sleet, which changed to flurries as we returned home. An hour later the light outside changed and I went to look out a window, and sure enough--snow! My brakes were not happy with the wet. Time to get them adjusted again.

5. Blew my sleep schedule again. I blame the 5 hour nap after I chowed down on turkey leftovers in a bid to help clear the fridge. Tryptophan, take me away!

6. Scribbling with Chapstick on the backs of my dry cracked hands, rubbing it in, then wiping it all off with a towel has completely stopped the itching, and the gaping wounds have begun to scab over. Plus, waterproof hands.

November 28, 2008

Scientologists To The Rescue!

As if pushing aside trained aid workers and trauma counselors to recruit and 'detoxify' shellshocked Katrina and 9/11 survivors wasn't brazen enough...

Scientology announces plans to flood the blood-spattered streets of Mumbai with self-improvement pamphlets. Because nothing says "We will get through this together" like a catalog.

"Gee, L. Ron, I think I left my wallet in my other pants. Along with most of my leg."

November 27, 2008

Ganksthieving Again!

We're having our celebration on Friday this year. Leslie & Misha, do you reckon you'd be free to come down and nom some gooshy foods with us? We can drink to 500 years of subjugation and genocide, and also there will be pie.

November 25, 2008

November 25, 1986

As of today, this photo is exactly 22 years old. Blows my goddamn mind. Look how awkward and wooden I am standing there with my dumbass little frock. Dwaa.

This is me, my older sister, my Dad (top), and my parents' boyfriend Mark (left) chilling at the river. I think Mom took the picture.

And here's the man himself: Dad in his electronic music studio, back in the 1980s. You can see one of his paintings on the wall (the one next to the window, not the Hawkwind wallscroll).

Yup. I was raised by polyamorous hippie new-age freaks.

These old photos are so awesome.

Really Stupid Things To Be Scared Of

I just discovered that I'm genuinely frightened of the leaning tower of Pisa. The photos squick me right the fuck out--especially the ones where the uneven floors and curve are especially prominent. Ugh, it's just horrible.

Sometimes I have dreams where I'm trying to get out of a high building that's slanted like that. There's usually a staircase on the outside that I'm trying to climb (up or down) and it usually comes apart. Even noticing the places where our old house's flooring is uneven from a century of settling makes my heart beat a little too hard and I have to think about something else or I'll start to think about what it would feel like to be inside a collapsing house.

I don't even like to be in a place with more than five floors. I had to stay in a hotel with 50 of them once and I had panic attacks.

Shit, I dunno. Maybe my parents let me watch the Towering Inferno at too young an age or something.

Out Of Nowhere, It's Fucking Sushi!

Deeeeelicious. The photo isn't great but I assure you it tasted like heaven and it was easy as fuck to make. Next time I want to do a spicy tuna roll, so I'll need to drive to the Twin Cities where they sell the sashimi grade fish.

Rah and I ate sushi til we busted while watching The Last Unicorn. It was a good day.

November 24, 2008


I've been trying recipes out all this past week and liking the results a lot. So tomorrow will be a new experiment entirely: Sushi!

I'm thinking california roll (crab, cucumber and carrot), Philadelphia (Smoked salmon, cream cheese, avocado) and possibly tempura shrimp roll with some kind of mayonnaise sauce and roe. Just need to buy a rolling mat and track down a good dipping sauce recipe, and I'm good to go.

There's this sushi place in Dallas (Atomic I think it's called) that serves a special maki roll with hot sauce and a mango dipping sauce, it was to die for. Maybe I'll take notes next time we're down at A-Kon and try to make it myself.

Suuuuushi. *Nom nom nom*

In other, weirder news: Sword Wielding Man Shot by Scientology Guard.

November 23, 2008

A Thanksgiving Post

This is a photo of some large eyeglasses. If you unfocus your eyes for about 30 seconds, you'll see a little kid hidden in the background:

Mom's note on the back of the picture says I was seven years old. Oh, how I long for the simplicity and ease of fetus-larva time, back when my eyes were still blue. Before I got weird; before my nostrils started growing and never stopped.

The obvious comparison does not evade me, but at least it's spelled different:

This is Mom and my older sister. I am fairly sure I did not yet exist when the photo was taken, because Mom is smiling and happy. It's clear from my sister's troubled expression that she has some idea what's about to happen to her. Muahaha.

My mom was a natural redhead. I love the shape of her nose. It's good to see her looking young and happy instead of like a ziplock baggie of white dust and pulverized bones in a small silver box with Swarovski crystals on it that plays showtunes when you turn the star-shaped crank.

I still have the necklace she's wearing. She wore it daily for something like 30 years, and now the eyelet is worn clean through. I have those rings, too, in another ziplock bag. This bag has a biohazard symbol on it, and a label with her personal information printed on it. The rings are no longer wearable because they were clipped off her fingers by medical staff when she went to the hospital for the last time. I'm not the jewelry-wearing type anyway, so it's all good.

Today I give thanks for the best parts of a weird as fuck childhood. Cheers!

November 22, 2008


I've been taking photos every other day to document the Captain's vitiligo, which seems to be progressing to his nose.

Tonight, he yawned.

November 21, 2008

The Reaping: Blood Libel Is OK If You Have A Black Sidekick

So I was watching The Reaping just now, and it was shaping up to be a mildly entertaining flick. And then came the part, about halfway through the film, where poor Hilary Swank finally tells the whole story of how her husband and daughter died: The Sudanese ritually sacrificed them both as an offering to the rain gods.


The flashbacks rolled on as an eeeevil spooky ignorant painted witch doctor gutted the precious Aryan missionary family, destroying Swank's pure Christian faith with his dark and barbaric savagery (not to mention his machete).

Oh, the pathos!

The moral of the story: no matter how much you try to teach them your modern ways, dirty primitive third-world people such as Christian/animist refugees, Jews and hobos will straight up kill your innocent blonde children at the first sign of a dry summer. They just don't know any better. And of course, the spectre of the spooky witch-doctor follows Whitey McHonkenweiss around with a machete throughout the film lest we, the audience, forget her suffering. Bleah! I keep wanting to yell "You missed one! She's right here!"

There is only one thing that could redeem this heap of blood-libelous bullshit now: ROCKS FALL, EVERYONE DIES. That's it. No other options remain.

And yeah, I know it's just a movie and I shouldn't take it so seriously, but this is the 21st century. Do we white people really still need to be doing this racist bullshit? It's like a StormFront campfire story where everyone sits around and deliberately avoids toasting marshmallows to preserve their pure whiteness. I can hear them now:

And then the big scary negro.... interbred with the white women!


EDIT: Aaaaand the only black character is an ex-gangbanger. Of course he is. And he dies first. Of course he does.

November 17, 2008

Rose Red Review

I'm a little confused about the plot of "Rose Red." These people get invited to a haunted house famous for killing and vanishing the people who go inside. They go "oh, okay," and when there are actual ghosts inside and plenty of evidence that at least one person is already dead, they don't really freak out that much.

Two people dead and the house is starting to mindfuck us all? Meh, no big deal, let's ignore the psychic rumblings and make pancakes.

Three people dead? Fingers getting cut off willy-nilly? OK, now it's time to be shocked, just shocked by what's going on, and get pissy at the crazy parapsychologist who hired us all to come because for some reason it's her fault we all left our senses of self-preservation at the door and that everything we were told would happen and knew would happen is actually happening. Sure it's been going on nonstop right under our noses since the first two minutes inside the house, but now we're surprised and terrified because the plot needs us to be.

Yeah the characters were pretty goddamned dumb, but that dumb? C'mon. Lazy writing treats the characters like generic game pieces who only exist when they're being observed and directed, and only move as far as the writer pushes them. Boring.

Emery gets points for being a genuinely believable and complex character, rather unpleasant but still sympathetic, but the rest of them are two-dimensional puppets who merely drag the haunted house story along its well-worn track.

Also, I object to every person of nonwhite heritage in the story being some form of subservient cleaning staff. Black spooky voodoo maid in a do-rag, black sad-faced maid in a do-rag, black janitor... but no black main character. No black extras, either. Couldn't the first victim of the haunted house be a minority, like in the other shitty horror movies? Was there really no room for one of King's stock mysterious magical black folks in a film about a group of mysterious psychic people?

Come to think of it, maybe Rose Red is sort of scary after all. ;)


Went out. Found a nice dark backwood turnout and set up shop under the stars. It was so clear I could see the Milky Way and most of the constellations were recognizable...but no shooting stars, not for an hour. I cleared out after some guy in a pickup truck pulled over, shone his lights in my face and asked what I was doing in an angry voice. I went for a drive instead.

Eventually I ended up staring at Wangs.

I seldom see Wangs and I hate to come home empty-handed from my quest, so I figured I should pull over and take a photo to post on my blog. Everyone on the internet loves Wangs, right?

Wangs can be described as miniscule by even a generous observer, and is thus easy to overlook, but if you're willing to slow down, relax and really search for Wangs, the experience will be unforgettable.

I love Wangs, don't you?

I Can has Leonids?

How can I best view a meteor shower?

If you live near a brightly lit city, drive away from the glow of city lights and toward the constellation from which the meteors will appear to radiate.

For example, drive north to view the Leonids. Driving south may lead you to darker skies, but the glow will dominate the northern horizon, where Leo rises. Perseid meteors will appear to "rain" into the atmosphere from the constellation Perseus, which rises in the northeast around 11 p.m. in mid-August.

After you've escaped the city glow, find a dark, secluded spot where oncoming car headlights will not periodically ruin your sensitive night vision. Look for state or city parks or other safe, dark sites.

Once you have settled at your observing spot, lay back or position yourself so the horizon appears at the edge of your peripheral vision, with the stars and sky filling your field of view. Meteors will instantly grab your attention as they streak by.

How do I know the sky is dark enough to see meteors?

If you can see each star of the Little Dipper, your eyes have "dark adapted," and your chosen site is probably dark enough. Under these conditions, you will see plenty of meteors.

-From here.

And just for fun, here's a video of the Peekskill Fireball:

Wanda Sykes on Gay Marriage

Dude, Wanda Sykes is gay? And married? You learn something new every day, I guess. Unfortunately for me, the thing I learned today is that she can never be mine :(

Good speech, though. Heart-stomping bitch.


Nasal Slaughterama

Any nosebleed is bound to be annoying, but I just had what can only be described as a sneeriod. Both nostrils going gangbusters at the same time. It's over now, but I'll tell you what, I'd better either mop the floor around my desk or buy an Audrey II and call it good.

It was cloudy tonight, so no stars. Hope it clears up a bit for the peak of the shower :( I even washed the sleeping bag for outdoor snugglings and everything.

November 16, 2008


Listen up, y'all. We're currently in the middle of the Leonids meteor shower, and tomorrow is the peak night. It's looking like I won't get to do any stargazing of my own tomorrow (unless I'm ready for a long drive, which I might just be) because it's likely to snow in my area, but the Leonids are consistently awesome and I cannot recommend them enough to those of you with a clear view. So get out there and enjoy it for me!

Tonight I was at the gym. It was 11:30, so nobody else was there. I went around and turned off all the TVs that had the volume up, and started my workout. Several times during this workout I found myself possessed of a certain insistent flatulence, and since I was alone, and since there's more room out than in, I just let 'er rip like it weren't no thang. I had my headphones on, but I imagine it was pretty noisy, and there was an awful lot of it. It was like a butt orchestra.

When I got off the machine at 12:55, a TV in the weight room was on and blasting. I was horrified.


November 15, 2008

Third Post In One Day, WTF

Since I'm in a complainy mood today, let me just throw in one more.

I'm getting awfully sick of people bitching that gay marriage is a stupid right to agitate for because "gays already have civil unions and that's good enough." No, it isn't.

It annoys me even more when somebody decides to defend this bullshit by stating they're uncomfortable messing with religious rituals, as if marriage is nothing more than a promise made in a church, with value only in the eyes of Jesus.

This argument makes a lot of sense if you lose half your damn brain and forget that marriage is a federally recognized legal contract between a man, a woman, and the IRS. Why else would divorce require lawyers instead of turning around three times and saying "get thee fucked with thy homewrecker" before spitting through your fingers at the foot of the cheating bastard/bitch?

The Big Sky Daddy may or may not even RSVP--it's still going to be a marriage. Atheists get married every single day. Does that mean they're only in a civil union?

Do you really think keeping one narrow definition of one damn word sacred is really worth all this fuss? I don't.

Tell you what, let's not have gay marriage after all. Instead, let's invite the Mormon church to send checks to all the homosexuals they've helped to royally screw over this election year. That way, they can afford to hire lawyers and spend a few weeks going through and signing all the papers required to bestow the 1000+* partnership rights and responsibilities which are instantly granted to any man and woman in Las Vegas who happen to drink too much at the casino bar.

Then we can all live happily ever after, separate but equal, just the way God intended.

*Void where prohibited by blue laws.

Lobotomies = HAWT

Wow, they sure gelded Sophie in the Da Vinci Code film, didn't they?

I didn't have high hopes considering the source material and its author's penchant for "soft eyes" and look-how-clever-I-am plot twists that sort of aren't.

Still, I find it kind of tragic that Hollywood can't even do a movie about the institutionalized supression of the female sex without dumbing down the leading lady from a determined codebreaking femcop into a pretty, doe-eyed sidekick with a mysterious heritage. Then they transplaned her brains into the leading male (of course) so he could save the day (and the girl).

Sophie: "Eek, my mortal enemy, a three-word anagram! Can you decipher it?"

That Guy From Cast Away: "Sure thing, little darlin'! For I have... a penis!"

I should also add that, in my opinion, the first ten minutes looks like a softcore porn version of the Passion of the Christ. This is not actually a criticism per se considering that the Evil Fake Albino Priest is fairly easy on the eyes even when covered in blood, but whatevs.


This whole "parents rush to Nebraska to dump their teenagers" thing is like deja vu all over again. It happened to me at age 12, back in 1993. I got lucky because at least my parents stayed in the state with me, but still. I feel for you kids, I really do.

Good luck to whoever goes to the prop 8 protests this weekend. I'm not going myself because I'm a lazy shit who would rather sleep, but godspeed. Don't let anyone tell you that it's a waste of energy showing solidarity and maintaining a positive public presence. It'll do some good nationwide when folks see you and realize you're not monsters, but pretty much just regular people. It's a bummer that there will probably be freaks showing up in rubber buttless chaps because they think gay=SEXXXXX PARTY WOOO NO RULEZZZ. Ah well.

November 14, 2008

It's so delicious and moist!

Two moar pages of the walking undead. Bit of a silly misunderstanding between our two male heroes this week:

Now I have to go take my dog on a bike ride. Boredom has flattened him into a limp dog pancake on my floor and he is making noises.

November 13, 2008

Teenage Rebellion (Traditional Recipe):

You will need:

1 tbsp Accutane
2 power-tripping parents
5 months being grounded for being a complete dumbass
1 dash realization that your parents (and by extension, all Authority figures) are frauds
1 pinch of ego (to taste)

Add hormones and stir over high heat. Serves the whole family.

Leftovers can still taste delicious several years later if deep-frozen. Simply thaw during adulthood and serve over fresh steaming embarrassment.

November 12, 2008

The Great Gig In The Sky

"...And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we need the space program."

Things Are Getting Better

Everything is going well. I have an appointment for an EMG coming up, my asthma meds are doing their job, therapy is going to interesting places and my blood sugar is settling down a bit. I've been getting lots of exercise again, and last night I even managed an hour at the gym for the first time since You Know When.

And last night, it snowed! The whole town was pale purple and I had to hover around 20 miles an hour on the highway or risk slippery death just getting home from the gym. Fantastic.

Last but not least, I'm back in contact with my father. The other day while I was in the shower, thinking thoughts the way I do, I realized that I want to know more about the guy and my own roots. So I sent him an email asking him to tell it to me. So far the results have been pretty interesting. My family has one fucked up backstory. I'm glad I took that shower.

November 9, 2008

Oot and Aboot

Today was Slack Day so I slept in, then only did the dishes and worked on the comic for most of the afternoon. When 6:30 rolled around, I did my usual pre-exercise stretches, dosed myself with Albuterol, ate a rubbery chunk of cold congealed oatmeal from the fridge (it was good, really) and took the Captain for a bike run in the bracing 20*f winds.

During the winter months, the sky is dark for most of my usual day. If my occasionally perverse sleep schedule sees fit to flip on me, I may not see the sun for a week or more. This is bad for biological/depression reasons, but I do love it. Especially when it snows (as it has for several days in a row, though nothing stuck for too long) and the clouds hang down low and take on the color of a bruise, and the snow turns blue and dim. You could walk through the woods without a flashlight on a night like that. Absolutely wonderful. On days when it's clear out and you can see stars during regular business hours, it never fails to remind me of the Night World levels of the original Super Mario Bros game. I even call it that, in my head. It feels more private and safe than summer nights when the sun stays up forever.

Meanwhile, our bike run was going pretty well. The Captain was exasperated with my slow pace and started pulling me pretty hard via his harness. The easier to tire you out, my dear. We rode a little more than two miles total, and on the way back I offered him a choice between "go home, get some dinner" and "dog park." His response was to drag me to the dog park at top speed. I could barely get him to stop at the busy cross-street.

The flooded parking lot area around the dog park had frozen over. The ice shattered all around us as we plowed through. I wince sometimes to think of the Captain's poor chilly toes when he plows through freezing water, but it's in his blood. It's the summer heat he doesn't like.

Inside the park, the Captain ran gleeful circles around me as I jogged around the dog park. I didn't have much endurance after years of refusing to run because of THE BOUNCE, but I was able to wear us both out. We can work on stamina later. My asthma did kick in after a while, but it's been a mild attack so far. Nothing like I would have had two years ago, that's for certain.

At one point I saw something incredibly bright moving over the park, and stopped running to look up at the most vivid shooting star I've ever seen. At first I thought it must be an airplane because it didn't burn out like the ones I usually see on clearer nights. It just fell forever in slow-motion toward the trees. I saw two tiny sparks shoot off from the main meteorite as the whole thing suddenly flared brighter, and then it was behind the trees and out of my line of sight. It was incredible.

Five minutes later, I saw something huge and dark gliding in slow circles overhead. It looked like a bird of prey, and it was enormous. It had to have had a five-foot wingspan at least. As I watched it, the bird vanished I couldn't find it again.

After this, we rode home and I took a hot shower, followed by an even hotter bath, followed by sabotage via freezing cold blasts of water from the faucet just to help spur me onto my feet again. Now I'm warm and comfy in my fluffy bathrobe and the Captain is snoring with his head hanging over the arm of Best Chair.

I feel utterly at peace with the world. The only thing that could make this better would be a hot plate of lo-mein and the latest episode of One Piece.

Speaking of which...

November 8, 2008


Argh, I fucking hate it when friends assume I'm going to feel a certain way about something based solely on a conversation they had in their head (or with my freakin' AIM away message, where my silence clearly means disapproving wrath).

And then they just fucking run with it, like it was a real discussion, and talk about it later like I was there. "Hey Luka, you and I were having this argument in my head, and you were really mean, but I totally agree with you that I suck balls (even though I'm kind of mad at you for pointing it out.)"

For shit's sake. You're not psychic, and I'm not happy always being the bad guy in someone else's poorly contained fantasy world. I'm right here and totally willing to give you honest advice that comes from the actual Luka, but instead you project your negative self-image onto me without my permission.

It doesn't help that your characterization of me is simplistic and presumptuous. Is that really the best you know me? Really?

I'm so tired of this happening. And it's always with friends who come to me for advice whenever they fuck up, but get mad if I don't throw them a pity party and blame everyone else for whatever goes wrong. You'd think I laugh in these people's faces and tell them to go fuck themselves.

Yeah I'm an asshole. That's why I spent two hours every other night for an entire week trying to convince you not to give up on living. I just hate you that much.

November 7, 2008

This Guy Is Awesome

Newly re-elected Silverton mayor has balls, boobs and strong faith in the system.

I have such a soft spot for non-traditional gender presentation. Binary schminary!

November 5, 2008

Pet Lovers, Don't Read This (II)

On the way to the store to pick up ice cream for my roomie Rah, I saw something sprawled in the middle of the dark road and swerved just in time to avoid hitting somebody's little beagle, lying in a heap. It had already been hit at least once.

I couldn't tell if it was still alive, and I couldn't stand the idea of just leaving it. I'm a meddler, and I love dogs. Besides, I had a suspicion that I knew this one from the dog park. So I took three right turns to double back and check on him. I pulled up alongside the dog, put on the hazards, and got out of the car. Up close it was clear the little guy had been killed instantly. There were bits of pink stuff all over the road where the body had been dragged, and a smear of blood ending in a spreading black pool around his head.

His eyes still had some shine to them, but they were mostly closed. I thought the least I could do while I was here would be to get his tag info and go home to call it in, but it was too dark to read the tags without putting myself in danger. Other drivers on the road saw the emergency lights flashing and slowed down to move out of the lane and avoid hitting the dog again. As they passed, I stood away from the flow of traffic and wondered how many people assumed I was the one who'd hit the beagle. Not that it'd make me a bad person--this was a dark stretch of road and shit happens when your dog is free to roam--but I still felt self-conscious about it.

I was waiting for a lull in traffic so I could go take a flash photo of the tags and was half-convincedto just move the dog out of the way myself, when a police car pulled up right behind me and saved me from having to do anything at all.

The officer got out. He asked if I had seen the accident, and I said I hadn't. He checked the tags, then put on some gloves and picked up the dog by the collar and tail to carry it off the road. When he raised it up, the dog's body sagged down like a half-empty sack. I could see its broken skull and muzzle sort of squish out of shape and then hang down as it came up off the pavement.

A huge stream of blood came spilling out of one floppy ear, and a couple of teeth fell out of its open mouth and rolled into the blood pool. It was fucking gruesome, and it all took place in the vivid glow of the cop's headlights. "At least it looks like it was quick," the cop said as he carried the little body over to the roadside. Little rivers of blood were streaming down from the beagle's body the whole time. It was a lot more blood than I'd have expected.

The cop said it looked like the dog had just been hit a few minutes before. I shook my head and said I was never letting my dog off his leash. Not with this busy road only half a block away from our quiet side-street. I thanked the officer for coming out, and left him to his work.

He was still parked there when I came back from the store fifteen minutes later. The whole thing was like a hyper-realistic horror movie. The gore didn't turn my stomach or make me cry or anything like that, but it bummed me out.

When I got home, I hugged the Captain and informed him that he was a good boy.


It still doesn't feel quite real to me yet. And holy shit, what an acceptance speech.

I have a doctor appointment today for a physical. It's been 14 years since I had one and I'm getting a wee bit nervous. I guess there's no helping it--I'll be pissing in a cup just a few hours from now, and not even getting paid for it like some people.

November 4, 2008

It's Been Stuck In My Head All Day Too, Leslie...

Election 2008

I am so proud of you today, America. When I think of all of you, lining up in droves at the polls, taking a stand against apathy and wearing your "I Voted" stickers with pride, it makes me so happy to live here. Go country where I was born! We're possibly quite close to Number One!

The doc told me that she became a citizen after 24 years specifically so she could vote in this election.

At City Hall, where we voted, there was a mock-election with polling booths just for kids, and little "I voted" stickers just for them. D'awwww.

Off to lurk on CNN til it's over with, I reckon. I don't want to miss tonight.

November 3, 2008


The God Tcaolin

Shiny-Ass Keychains

Hello Kitty Buttons

Magnets: Autumn 2008

Buttons: Autumn 2008 VI


Also, I've updated my Etsy store to put stuff on sale and added a few new items (like those peacock keychains and a couple magnets).

Tomorrow: Shrink appointment, working on the comic and VOTING. You guys are voting too, right? Riiiiight?