A Bedtime Story by Static part II

Once upon a time in a land far far away there was a pissed off son of a bitch with a penchant for telling bedtime stories not fit for children aged 6-10...yes, I'm talkin' about me again.

Opening with the usual generic stock phrase that has been beat to death since the beginning of time when the first quasi human/simian creature could open it's gaping maw and utter grunts and groans that weren't even remotely considered language, it ends all the same.

Happenstance, these stories often also then end with "... and they all lived happily ever after", or, "happily until their deaths". I'm going with the latter, because that's just how I feel. So suck it up ya big pansies.

You didn't really think this story was going to end well, did you? This story is going to have a much different style and vibe. Who's the writer here, god dammit?

Messin' with Mel Gibson

Mel Gibson, au naturel.

FLIPPING through the newspapers (bah! Who am I KIDDING? Printed media is dead. It's all electronic media today) - and it's provided me with an opportunity to reflect upon on something I don’t think I've pondered much since I stopped grappling with essay deadlines about the motivation of doomed literary characters

And not too far removed are the motivations of doomed actors. The question that I am pondering now is: Is Mel Gibson stark raving mad?

Emancipate Your Mind from Mental Slavery

The world's not quite there yet. Maybe it's too difficult for most to wrap their minds around. But then again, maybe they'd be more apt to follow another similar, simpler philosophy. Such as, "Free your mind and your ass will follow."

Photo link: © Elly Snell All Rights Reserved

The Days of Borsch and Vodka

Perestroika big destroyer! Пожалуйста?!

Remember this? It's so naughty, it's Cosmonauty.

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Listening to:
The Beatles "Back In The USSR"

Interview with the Stampire

On my birthday a couple weeks ago (June 24), I sat down with my old buddy Kelly, aka 7masterheathen, writer for Psycho Carnival, and drank to celebrate another year that has passed. Boy, did we drink. It was only 9 am, but who cares? Kelly asked me to tell my epic life story: love, betrayal, loneliness, hunger and thirst. To be honest, I never knew what life was until it ran out in a red gush over my lips, my hands! So THIRSTY. So HUNGRY. Drinking certainly gives ya the munchies. I could barely keep myself from feeding on everyone in the bowling alley.