I felt like blogging tonight, but didn’t have squat to say, so I decided to throw together some drawings I did in the sixties; 1969 to be exact. The sixties were a formative time for me and pretty much made me the man I am today. From the beginning of that decade with Chubby Checker and the Twist, to the end of 1969, when I found myself recently married, graduated from college and about to get my ass drafted to go fight a war I had no interest in whatsoever, it was ten years of non-stop insanity.
Well here’s some of the stuff I was doing in 1969. Damn, not much has changed since then.
And after wasting 30 years of my life in a career, with kids grown and out of the house, but whose offspring we watch three times a week, I’m back to 1969 again. Sweet. No more delaying gratification for this boy.
This last one was fairly prophetic of what I’d be doing for them thirty years waiting for all that good sixties shit to come around again.
It is sure hard to look ahead sometimes, and not get the sense that everything is turning to shit. Europe is going to hell in a hand-out basket. China’s explosive growth is slowing way down, and now, so is the American consumer. [I love/loath that term; sounds like the American public are little more than huge vacuum cleaners sucking up everything that’s put in front of them. Mindless, voracious beings, eating constantly but never satisfied.] [Boy, I could go on about that one, kinda like a tragic Greek God who forsook immortality to fornicate with Earth women (dumb shit; I’ve even tried fornicating with a few Earth women, and let me tell ya, they’re not worth loosing your immortality over). Could be an epic tale about chasing tail].
Anyway, back to looking ahead, or is it looking at heads like the guy in my drawing. Pretty trippy don’t cha think? No Ink! Breaking new ground here. Plus, pink and purple are not my favorite colors or color combo. So I think I’d prefer looking at heads than looking ahead. Too scary. And it’s hard to predict what may actually happen.
I sure wish I had the ability to look ahead and know what’s gonna happen. I’d be buying winning Lotto tickets hands over fist, then investing the proceeds in the next Apple or Microsoft stock. Sadly, I’m usually wrong when it comes to prophesying, especially prophecies that deal with the future. I don’t like gambling either. It’s like placing a bet on when Jesus will return. A real long-shot if ya ask me. I think the odds favor me on when He’s NOT coming back (in a moment and a twinkling of an eye notwithstanding).
The guy in the second drawing is looking ahead, but he’s armed with a sword. I wonder if the second Amendment covers swords? I don’t think so. There’s no National Sword Association like the NRA for guns. Swordsmen don’t have as big a lobby as riflemen I guess.
I’d like to look ahead and see good stuff. Like when I plant a row of green beans and imagine myself feasting on tender, fresh picked pods of luscious home grown organic goodness. Yum. Better make sure I don’t put the seeds in upside down.
These fuckers never give up, do they? First they want me to “bundle” with them. Now they claim if I get their High Definition, well, TV will never be the same. We won’t mention how TV will never be the same, when everything on cable is a re-run, or something like N.C.I.S., which is shown in a “marathon” of non-stop shows one after another.
Nope. Not for me. Close, but no cigar. But…if ya really want TV to never be the same again, ya won’t get there by smokin’ a cigar. Try firing up a Joint! Let Mother Nature enhance your viewing pleasure, NOT some special digital box that’s gonna cost you twenty bucks a month more. In fact, the more stoned, loaded, baked, blasted, zonked, wasted, high and mellow ya get. A funny thing happens, TV gets correspondingly better. And if ya get really spaced-out, even the commercials start lookin’ good.
Gotta watch-out though, sometimes the definition of your reality gets a little too high and ya might freak-out….Now that would be a Bummer.
Well, the title pretty much says it all. Getting closer to actually plunking down some money on this sucker. Doin’ it. And splurge on a kitchen remodel. Floor to ceiling, the whole nine frickin’ yards. What an ordeal…Poor Hansi. And poor is what I’m gonna be after writing checks to Lowes, the contractor, appliance stores, the tile place, paint store, and of course, we can’t forget that solid granite counter top.
And what do I get in return? Well, while The Wife gets her ‘dream kitchen’, I get my ‘dream garage’. And that’s a fair trade if ya ask me. All you can do in a kitchen is cook. Them granite counter tops are much too hard, not to mention cold, to do anything meaningful on. But a garage: A garage is the place where a man keeps everything he needs to be a man, except a woman. Don’t want no estrogen stinking up the place, or trying to re-arrange things.
And in a properly outfitted garage, one (me) can do a multitude of cool stuff. From wood projects, or some weird science, to clandestine herbal horticulture, the possibilities are endless. Plus it’s just a neat place to hang-out, and get away from that Special Someone who made it all possible. You just know it’ll also have a kick-ass stereo system.
Now all I gotta do is tell The Wife that she’s gotta move all her crap outta there. That may be the hard part. Might get my ass, kicked.
Okay…I got this little piece of crap with my cable TV bill. I’m paying for fifty channels of bullshit, and now they want me to “bundle” it with even more bullshit that they’re trying to sell, and for the privilege, will let me record it all for free. Sounds more like a pile than a bundle to me. Nice try….but No Thank You!
Maybe I’m being a little harsh, but somehow (with already fifty channels of bullshit), more coming in a bundle just doesn’t sound that appealing. However, after taking my morning medication, I took another look at this insert, touched it up a bit in my own version of Photoshop, and Voila!
See they didn’t target my demographic very well, I don’t need no bundles, but I am certainly open to Letting It All In.
Pie in the sky. Sounds kinda like an unrealistic promise for something you don’t have now, but will have, only at a latter date. Bummer. I sure wish there was a fresh boysenberry cobbler in the sky in front of me right now. Maybe even surrounded with clouds of whipped cream. Lemon meringue would be nice too. But ya gotta be in the mood for it. I can almost feel my teeth dissolve as I take the first bite.
Damn, that was good! Hope your piece was just as good. I think from now on, the only pie I’ll ever eat, will be ones served in the sky.
I was thinking of checking out of the blogosphere for a while. A lot of people do it, and I’ve been thinking about it too. I even dreamed up an “I’m checking out for a while” drawing for my last post. Cool. But this ain’t it.
I guess that’s cause a lot of
shit stuff is happening in my life right now, and I don’t have the time to get into the right frame of mind to crank out my usual mindless rants, let alone illustrate them with some pseudo-psychedelic crude crayola drawings.
When one is not in a good mind-state, things can seem overwhelming at times and produce a
rottener even more rotten mind-state. That sucks, cause ya get locked into negative mind-states, and don’t even realize you’re feeling rotten. But, the thing is, it’s really only a ‘mind-state,’ which can be changed. Turning a negative into a positive sounds like a lot of horseshit sometimes. [Usually the other way around is much more common and by far easier]. But with a positive attitude, I find I can see the horseshit ahead, accept the big plopper for what it is, and decide, “Hey…I’m not gonna step in that”. “No sir! That would be disgusting, with all that slimy goo soaking into your socks; plus, you could get your ass killed by Mom for tracking it into the house and getting it all over the carpet.”
Well, I went fishing a few days ago in the Psychedelic Sierras, and ‘checked out’ for a while. And like getting the hell out of a sleazy motel where ya didn’t sleep well the whole night, I was sure glad I checked out of the mind-state I was in.
Everything seems to work out Okay in the end. [Now that really sounds like a lot of B S, especially when everything is turning to shit around ya and stressing you out]. But I’ve found it seems to be true, especially when I don’t resist what’s going on and am open to change, which is constant anyway. Pretty trippy don’t cha think?
Well, it’s time for me to check back in. Sure hope they changed the sheets.