Author Archive for ABC

vasecto-me

Published on May 23, 2008 by ABC | 0 Comments

Vasectomy Series by ABCIV Post 1*

its hard to concentrate when you just took a nut punch from the doctor, but ill give you what i can. the ingenious thing about the “whiffleball” procedure is that you are completely distracted the whole time. as soon as your cock is out the nurse gives you a tootsie pop and flips on the tunes. i could not resist cutting a “mixed bag” disk when i saw the option suggested in the info pack. few things in life give me the pleasure that making a mix-tape does. working within the constraints of a theme is terrific.so peep this – welcome to my scrote:

Mixed-Bag

1. A Plea For Tenderness – Jonathan Richman + The Modern Lovers
2. Barber Shop – Tom Waits
3. There’s A Love Knot In My Lariat – Montana Slim (Wilf Carter)
4. Monster (In My Pants) – B-52s
5. Big Balls – AC/DC
6. Love Whip – Reverend Horton Heat
7. Broken Arrow – Buffalo Springfield
8. Multiplication – Bobby Darin
9. I Gotcha – Joe Tex
10. Bring On The Pain – Radiskull + Devil Doll (Joe Sparks)
11. The First Cut Is The Deepest – Cat Stevens
12. Bye Bye Baby – Big Brother + The Holding Company
13. Nutbush City Limits – Ike + Tina
14. Hot Pants – James Brown
15. Funky Worm – The Ohio Players
16. Pistol Packin’ Papa – Montana Slim
17. Don’t Touch Me There – The Tubes
18. Knock On Wood – Otis Redding
19. Hard Ain’t It Hard – Woodie Guthrie
20. Tiptoe Through The Tulips – Tiny Tim
21. Mama Told Me Not To Come – Three Dog Night
22. Gimmie That Nutt – Eazy E

*dicta-typed by wife

real life unfortunately

Published on March 4, 2008 by ABC | 0 Comments

Guest Post by Adam

im back from the hospital and still numb. i became desensitized to death as a kid, i remember 11 years old and my dad coming into my bedroom to tell me my mom had finally died and not crying. i knew it was coming, i had bawled a few times after seeing her with the morphine drip, she not wanting us to be sad. my dad cried, he held me, we were all shocked and in pain, but i wanted to be strong like she said, not knowing what else to do. i know i lost something that day, something that makes people normal and emotionally developed. it wasnt a conscious decision, my mind made it for me. i was protecting myself. it didnt make me hard, it just made me different. so now am i being strong sitting here still not crying, trying to stay moving? i dont think corinna wants to die, and for now, she wont. but her mind will not stop serving her pain, and as anyone who was abused by a parent can attest, the emotional kind is far more painful. she feels different like me i know that, and that difference makes communicating difficult and increases any feelings of isolation. its so hard to guess at what you think you want, what might make you happier, when you dont know what any of that happiness is made of. nobody swallows pills and wine to hurt anyone but themselves. it is not an aggressive action, it is not aimed at any target, it is a frustrated action, it comes from anguish. prolonged pain makes us feel like we deserve it, that it defines our lives. i only wish i could feel more and have her feel less, because she deserves a break from the restlessness and breath it takes. nobody needs to understand this, i dont, she doesnt, but its there. and if you dont feel comfortable being so close to something that so often looks evil, if you cant get past it, then dont bother asking yourself why this little blond girl sleeping at st pauls with an iv drip in her arm is so scary. you wont get it. its not about answers. its about remembering that you are human. and alive. i love you all anyways. even the shitheads. we all hurt people, get hurt, lose people and die. simple.

this post is brought to you by david bowie and jonathan richman. i dont know what the right thing to do is either. if you love her, be yourself and keep doing that. everything will follow.

Whuppin 2007’s behind with a belt

Published on January 1, 2008 by ABC | 0 Comments

Allow me to begin this year in review type post with a little something i like to call ‘i have a shitty memory’ as a foreword, or something. 2007 was so freaking thick it seemed more like 3 years two months and seven days instead of just a regular year. maybe thats why im feeling so nervous right now, like the contents of the last twelve months are really worth sharing and re-living. when you work like a bastard for something that might not even exist like hope or an idea or just nature you cant measure progress or quantify how successful you are becoming because the process of becoming is the end that wont end. it seems to me old fashioned to take stock of your life at the end of december, but that makes it hard to do otherwise so why not turn off the meter now? its been a betty of a year.


Keira-Anne on flickr Foto

i dont like the tone of that paragraph. i dont know where to start, or what to communicate. i feel like punching a picture of dan brown. i suppose the most important part is that were all still here. the most important statistic of all is whether your site is alive or not. every url contributes to the topography of the world tho we cant touch it we have conceptualized a new home that became a community and a country then a new world. this could be described as a conservation of energy and by re-enacting those significant moments that were shared and affected by the people and computers in this world the energy will return to the people and computers because the feelings didnt fade like our footprint that will always be here crossing and gathering infinitely.
(punching back cover of Davinci Code).

Tony Pierce on flickr Foto

i would like to thank ayebody who this last year has accepted me for my wooden-nickel self because of your respect for ol chokey. you are shining examples of humanity. i might feign resistance to technology, but that doesnt mean im not completely humbled by the world of computing. i love that the blog medium uses its powers for good, that means that every one of youz is making positive changes to real people and minds, and that your propensity will return to sustain you back. i am still shocked and awed that ol CJ Hixon flew a plane all the way from heafrow airport to rainy ol vancouver just to see the Greeper. you know what that means? that means that sometimes Dateline is WRONG STOSSEL people who you meet on the internet wont kill you unless theyre already a psycho the internet has very little to do with it. as you can see, CJ refrained from killing myself, my wife and the cat. that’s adam 3, Stossel 0. put that in yer moustache.

see instead of the murders, what happened was that by this peppy young lad trotting over here we got a huge feelin of the world is great after all. imagine watchin the news and when you are eatin on some chicken (or soy-type poultry thingie) nugget or something and the anchor sez your name out loud and you cant know WHO heard it but you assume that somebody else did and you have yourself witnessed an affirmation of your gooduns and that, is hard to beat. CJ bein his ever endearing-charming-effervescent-bastard self burns up some quid and in return there is a permanent rainbow over any memory associated with 2007 because that will always be the year that we met the Hixon lad. a done deal!
hypothesis: bein good by people is good, and makes Stossel eat his words often.

now if you are a troll who hides in the bushes and only reads feeds, you may not have noticed the subtle pimpins what have taken place here in idyllic Greeperland. the presidents of Audihertz-alajara, Materfacit-tania, and Chindogu-stan offered humanitarian aid to our not yet three years old republic. let me expound; peep my expoundinz:

Corinna has known David since grade whatever. he is quite a bit cooler than ice cube, and totally cooler than ice-T. he is an example of how technology brings people closer who have already bonded. and believe you me mister Drummond, besides all of your technical expertise you gave Corinna someone she could really trust in a place where distance both practised and geographical limits connection. you are a big source of shtrenth. word. if dave was in a rap video, he would be the guy riding shotgun who doesnt say anything he just looks cool while some jackass dances on the roof or the hood or something.

Tony Pierce on flickr Foto

now if our pal Jenn were in a music video, it would be less pedantic than U2 but kind of like when someone walks around singing and stuff and other people see how much fun shes having and how cool the song is and start followin her so that by the end of the video everybody is lost in the moment and rippin it up whatever theyre doing if its dancin or singin along or shakin hands with strangers or public speaking. i think that happens because the real inspirational people arent hocking books at the conference centre theyre living in the world and connecting human like to everybody around like how dry ice is more dense and has to expand out of its container and onto the floor and our shoes. is this not a truly wondrous masthead?? huzzah!

and the lastly but sure not leastly technical shout-out goes to the Burns & Allen of blogdom john + rebecca. this is form and content incarnate. you two make everything look completely effortless, like Gretzky himself. you guys are two little Wayne Gretzkys. youll always be at the allstar game and will always get to pick your number first. but we all know that Wayner didnt get to this status by only honing his hockey skillz, oh no, he transcends the game because the game can be found within his character. there is no difference between the game and Wayne–they are themselves, each other, and together, more. they enhance the other entity and expand the potential of that simple concept, those little rules that make hockey. i think its pride and dignity. but those are byproducts. were all proud of you, and proud to be by you. clear as mud.

so now that i have wasted a perfectly good attempt at spreading an even layer of 200, i will backpedal and spew out all that i have forgotten thus far before they start playing that music to get me off stage; dont worry, i’ll rassle em when they come at me.

there are several people. whats more, these people are folks. such as, uh, therefore, education, um, what is, the iraq…

Aughra + Jenn = Greeperland order of merit (shining beaconz of Bloglight and womandom)
Blogstock = People exist! (Duane, BANG! Keira, BANG! Tony, BANG! you like that shit? thats a free linkz what that is)
also Blogstock = meeting new Jagz and Stoddartz + Danielliz & Chadz an such
Bollwittz = margreetaz + Dave-Oz + Biehlerz + JennieRothz + Danz + such
Netchick = aka Tanya also = a just swell 10 year blogger who encourages the arts (aka GuitarHero)
also = Reilly + Miranda + Al + Vern + Monica + Chris + Nelson

whoa. i am spiraling out of control. i blame my first Liscumb family Crimus. yes, it was everything you could possibly imagine plus more. we didnt just have snow, we had flight delays. we didnt just see a moose, we saw multiple moose. four dude. four moose. and five mule deer. no cougars tho. ive wrestled enough cougars to know that ive never wrestled a cougar. we got that dang ol duvet that corinna was pining for since the nineties. thats the last century or something. her ma read nite before crimus and then Santa came. it was radical. i have two famlies now. how about that! ah yes, and a wife that loves me SO much that she bought a jeff foxworthy redneck calendar for us to stare into for a hole year, to make our plans on, to map our dreams… after i puke my guts out from looking at it. she must love me or something.

well, look at me, following coherent thoughts to their logical conclusion.. weve all come a long way. hi sarah! id have you in my sqwadron any day. basically, like ice man and maverick at the end of Top Gun. Nocturnal, i think you create matter out of a vacuum, or something. you are like philo from UHF. which makes you one of a kind and also awesome. DLAK! give me your epilepsy, please. Tiana, Brent, Your ass will be whupped in the future! (in guitar hero)

so in this year of bangs, of psychologists at the pictures, of travelling bloggers, of hemhorroidless bums, how do we end something that is only beginning? well, in an instant such as this, there is no magic 8ball to shake, no almanac to consult. in this case, i always ask myself, “What would Rhonda do?”. but no one knows what Rhonda would do, thats what makes her the enigma she is. so, to Rhonda : we will miss you out here.

hapy new yearz. an hapy 30th boday an 1 year aniversary Chokey. we luvz yoou.

and to the rest of you special yous, I’ll see you on Facebook.

WWEeeks! or, Pooky Night Porn Patrol

Published on September 6, 2007 by ABC | 0 Comments

Spoiler warning: if you are planning on seeing this film, and are not easily dissuaded, then do not read this review. Because unless you like getting pretentious at Dennys afterwerbs, you ought not go. Basically, when the tally of things that bug you surpasses the things that are cool you are in trouble. But if you leave half way through the scary dreadlox goth people will push you around and play catch with your hat.

So Rob Zombie meets with Carpenter, or so it goes, all old fashioned like and asks for his blessing like hes gonna make an honest woman of his daughter. And Carpenter sez to him he sez, “make it your own”. So I cant give him the ol Peter Jackson when Johnny told him not to make the same movie. Because of White Zombie, I will start this thang with what I liked about the picture. Young Michael is awesome. First of all, the kid who plays hims name is Daeg Faerch. You couldnt make up a name that is more metal if you tried. Seriously. Try. The character wears a sweet KISS tee shirt, and although he is vacant and violent, the most offensive thing about him for me was that he was a little dirty. But this time we know whats coming. We know that he is going to turn into a superhuman psychopathic killer because we assume a certain faithfulness to the original script by Johnny and Debra Hill, and also because lil Mikey kills more animals than Ernest Hemingway. He is also seemingly unable to go anywhere without his 25cent clown mask, his first mask, which to my much happiness is not scary but kind of ridiculous looking so that the sinistration of the image is entirely caused by the evil of the boy. The final thing that I liked was that Don’t Fear The Reaper appears a couple o times. what about the nudity though, everybuddy loves tits and ass right, but in a world where Britney Spears flashes her clam like an airmiles card it really didn’t do much for me.

So now that were done with the good cowboys, lets move our attention to the bad cowboys.

I was kind of expecting some sort of jab-jab-wink-wink to Johnny Carpenter, but the more I waited and the harder I looked for it, the more painful was the realization that it wasn’t going to come. I love Carpenters Halloween because of him and Nick Castle in the Shape and Hill. Assault on Precinct 13 is my flavourite Johnny.
Ok chill, lets start orgamizing things here, lets us focus.

My problem with this film is its intention, I cant figure out what Rob Zombie is trying to tell me. In Carpenters treatment, Michaels existence is surreal; as a kid calmly and quietly stabbing his sister in full clown gear, and the Shape appearing and disappearing all over the shittin hell. Zombie demystifies the villain and shifts the sympathy dynamic. Little Daeg in his badass KISS shirt is killin this rat, and this dawg, and what have you, and his moms a peeler, and his step pop is an assho, and his sisters a hore, and he kills this irritating kid, so we stick all that in the ol John Douglas-o-matic and we get a serial killer. Which brings me to so what. Mikey goes to the hospital, he gets round the clock care, but hes too fucked. The system failed so that means what we got here is we need to deal better with those cases but we cant even if we do our best. Malcolm McDowell was really nice to the kid and that janitor who looked out for him got jacked up nonetheless. His mom was really nice to him too cept for the living with a fucking assho bit. So despite our modern understanding of mental illness, despite our technology and not-shock treatment, we are completely helpless which begs why should we even try to reform an insane criminal. Harumph. I ask you Rob Zombie what the crap was with all that lets understand how he became damaged by purging the sinners stuff when the only alternative youre giving us is to kill the poor understandably vengeful lil sumbitch.

So when the first part of the film with young Mike ended I was all waaaAAAAaaa?…….?? do I like him cuz he kills bad guys, or do I hate him for killin poor ol lil animals? And then theres boobs. And more bad people get ganked. And also good people get ganked. Let us not forget too that in 1978 the Shape was played by the guy who directed The Last Starfighter using the Cray X-MP supercomputer to render the digital effects.. today, he is played by a wrestler. Nothing against Tyler Mane, and maybe I should have included this with the good cowboys but I really like that Zombie has a stable of actors he reuses, I love that shit. But the wrestler didn’t even take a stab at the best part of the Carpenter picture, where Mike holds Lyndas bf Bob up against the wall and impales him, then he stands a foot away from the dead Bob and tilts his head side to side, examining the meat. A wrestler might be able to stab the shit out of me like a bastard, but he doesn’t make me piss in my pants and cry like Jimmy Garner. The original movie was a true origin in that thats where the clichés were copied from, but this new version wasnt putting two and two tugether. If Zombie is a fan of either Carpenter or his movie, I saw no indication as such.

And I am now leading into my most pressing issue, the one that runed the experience really for me, the music. One of the things that made that fuckin old version so scary was Carpenters score. He directed it, cowrote it, and composed the whole theme. So now we have Rob Zombie, a musician before a filmmaker, directing his favourite movie and wanting to be respectful yet he doesn’t pony up and give that extra effort like the pioneers with no money to play with had to? That right there tells me that the poor bastard is detatched from the work in that one area where he could have retardified his own cinematic success while giving props to the man who did it himself 30 yearz ago.

Waa waa, and so on. If I had never heard of Johnny Carpenter or Rob Zombie then I wouldn’t be in this mess, but waddaya do. You cant make a silk purse out of a sour peach. Or something.

Hey Zombie. If youre reading this, go rent The Butcher Boy.

Also don’t turn ME into a zombie.