Letting it rip sure feels good, and can be satisfying in a multitude of ways. I guess the first way that comes to everyone’s mind is when breaking wind, and letting loose with one hell of a rip-roaring fart. And what’s just as fun as letting one rip, is blaming it on someone else. “The dog did it,” is my favorite rejoinder, except everyone calls bullshit on me and starts to pointing their fingers. I wonder if it’s because I don’t have any pets, unless you consider the outdoor cats that come over and shit in my garden pets? “Hey, the cat did it!”
The other type of letting it rip that I’m fond of is the cutting loose of inhibitions and hang-ups, and doing something without particular concern for its outcome or how it looks. This is really what this post is all about, but I couldn’t help myself nor resist the temptation to put in some good wholesome all-American bathroom humor. Don’t get much better than that, and after all these years, joking about farting, excretion and bodily fluids, still brings howls of laughter to not only myself, but my grandsons too.
Dig this: I actually got paid to watch people piss into little jars. No shit! When I was a probation officer, I had to drug test some of my clients. That entailed a urine test, which had to be monitored by myself or another co-worked, cause a lot of these folks on probation were unsavory characters and couldn’t be trusted. A cold, clear sample was usually a cause for concern, so I had to make sure his urine went directly from his Ying, right into the Yang jar. I never had to test women for some reason.
Well getting to the point, while still savoring all things flatulent, these are the first drawings I’ve done in about two weeks. Seems like after a three month run of drawing my ass off (and actually featuring drawings of my ass in some posts), I kinda flamed out a little, and was hesitant to get back into drawing again. Now I generally set a pretty low bar for myself when it comes to quality and my art, but a blank piece of paper was a little daunting after a two week hiatus. I mean like, I felt I drew everything there was to draw. So I got some small pieces of paper (about 4 by 6 inches in size) and just let it rip. That was enough to get me going again, remove the blockage, and let it rip.
What’s that smell?
In my ongoing series of new posts featuring old material. I thought I’d share some of theses gems. My post about trashy chics was so warmly recieved by everyone (except women), that I thought I’d do one more. Either that or not post anything at all.
But how can one be a serious blogger and not post stuff? And in the blogosphere, it’s use it or loose it. Cause everybody has a two minute attention spam (that’s when they’re really concentrating), and will move onto something new at the click of their mouse. [Is their a metaphorical link to the picture on the right?]
Capitalizing on this phenomenon one can easily go back into their Archives, retrieve old stuff, and pawn it off as new, and nobody notices. Kinda like trashy women. When ya see one going by, you just know you want some of that stuff. But as soon as a new, shinny-er model rolls by, well ya forget about skank A, and immediately move on to skank B.
So, not wanting to be left behind sitting alone on a blogosphere bar-stool, You gotta post something or forever be left behind; even if it’s old and been used before. Nobody reads my older stuff, and a lot of people haven’t even seen my recent stuff. So it’s all new stuff to them. Ain’t it still fun to fool people? and this isn’t even a political blog. We’re doomed if Obama loses.
When you don’t have any thing new to share, one can always go into their archives and serve up some old stuff. That’s what I’m doing right now, cause I’m having ‘writers block’ except it’s with my drawing. It’s quite obvious that I’m not having real writers block, cause I’m writing about drawers block.
So, with an endless supply of clever bullshit to share, but no new drawings, I’m posting some of my older pencil favorites. Now I don’t wanna just paste up some of my older stuff, and say , “Look what I did”. Hell no, where’s the challenge in that? [Actually the challenge would be to draw some new shit, and not just display old shit with a bunch of bullshit]. So I decided to do a Trashy Women series. Don’t get much better than that.
I know, and you are welcome. It’s all my pleasure. Anyway, and this is no secret, but all men like trashy looking women. Yes, we are pigs, but possibly that’s how guys were evolutionarily hard wired. Back in the caveman days, when everybody was hairy and had a slight stoop when they walked, it was hard to tell the difference between male and female cave-persons. So when the females came in heat and wanted to breed, they had to do something special, or else all the cave men would just hide out in the back of the cave masturbating all day long. Nope, they couldn’t just rely on them pheromones, cause everybody was filthy back then, never took baths, and stunk to high heaven. [I wouldn’t touch a Neanderthal with a ten foot pole].
So the cave women had to do something special to gain the cavemen’s attention. That usually entailed putting food or flowers in their hair. Wearing a string of shinny objects around their necks, or even fashioning stones in their ears and noses. Well, sure as shit, my Cave brothers fell for it every time. And much to their later dismay, found a litter full of cave kids running around which they had to support.
Thank God for evolution, cause we’ve certainly come a long way from them Cave Man days. But you know what? The same stuff works on us guys today. When I go fishing in the Sierras, I sometimes use a “spinner”, which is a shinny silver or gold colored lure, with a tiny spoon, that spins when you pull it through the water. Well them trout just go nuts when one of them things goes by, and they hit it hard. Well men are no smarter than trout. There we be, content in a peaceful stream always looking forward and accepting anything that floats down stream to them. But as soon as that bright flashy object goes streaking by, we decide “I gotta have a piece of that” and, like a stupid fish, bite it, and bite it hard.
I don’t know about you, but I never read my own blog. Why waste my time reading that crap, I wrote it. But one day, when particularly well medicated, I started going through some of my older posts. Don’t know how I got there, but that’s the power of good medication (I was spaced). But then I started reading them, kinda like for the first time, with a new set of eyes, and I started to blow my mind.
Frankly, I couldn’t believe the amount of random non-sense and just plain blithering bullshit that laid* therein. Boy, was I impressed. Here was some old fucker, drawing this 60’s laden, pseudo-psychedelic cartoonie soft porn, and matching it with sexually charged innuendos about things without any socially redeeming values whatsoever, and plastering it all over the Internet for the world to see. . I could dig it!
*And speaking of getting laid (layed?). I thought I’d lay this one on ya. Do you ever go back and read some of your earlier posts? If you don’t, do so (seriously). Take some time to go back and read some of that stuff; kinda like with new eyes, but not rose colored glasses. It’ll blow your mind! Especially when ya see where you were at a few months ago, or even last year, and where you’re at now.
Damn, it blew my mind what I was putting out there for world wide consumption. Talk about the lifestyles of retired geezers. It was fairly accurate as to who and what I really am, or where I was at then.
What also blew my mind was to see the difference from where I was at then, to where I’m at now. [I think I said that already]. Wow, things do certainly change. Nothing is permanent. Growth? Who knows? But it is very interesting to look at. Kinda like that “Permanent Record” they always told ya about in school that you didn’t want to ruin with a bunch of mis-deeds or offenses.
Give it a try, it might blow your mind.
I thought I’d do a post with no words. This is it.
Coming up with new subject matter is no easy task here at Hansi’s Hallucinations. It’s not like any of this stuff is actually appearing in my front room (thank god). That’s why I keep coming back to the name thing. Sometimes I can’t just close my eyes, dream up some weird crap and then draw it. Sure wish there was some kinda magic potion or herb that you could take to hurry some visions along 🙂
So, if you hit on something that is working for ya creativity-wise; might as well do it again. And if ya do it twice, why not thrice? Trilogies sure worked for Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and all them stupid soap-opera laden Twilight vampire movies featuring nothing but a bunch of horny teenagers.
When you do something a fourth time, well then you risk beating it to death [already done that,,,see my post “Beating Hansi To Death]. It’s when you just say “fuck-it”, and go for number five, that you’re driving it into the ground.
But here’s the one redeeming factor: If you’re driving something into the ground, at least you’re still driving. And I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather drive than be a passenger.