mind expanding nonsense

Archive for July, 2012

Throwing One Together

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.

Looking Ahead

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.

TV Will Never Be The Same

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.

I Sure Wish Remodeling A Kitchen Was As Easy As Drawing Monsters On The Floor

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.

Let It All In

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

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.

Checking Out

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.



Another journal entry type post.  I’m dealing with the prospect of remodeling our kitchen.  I know, “Poor Hansi”.  Pretty low on the scale of stuff that can stress a person out; divorce, death, and that type of stuff being at the top of the scale, and my woes ranking around 40 out of 100 on the scale; though, the way things are proceeding, death or divorce look like fairly attractive alternatives.  This is  a good cathartic way to blow off some steam.  Everything will work out just fine unless, I  murder The Wife.  Then I’ll only have a small 6×8 jail cell to contend with, and decorate however  Bubba and I want.

The real trip in doing this journal stuff, is the mix of low tech with high tech.  Using basic pen and paper (remember that) to write a post, then digitally photograph it, adjust in Photoshop and  post via computer for the whole  world to see  [all twelve of my followers].  Kinda like having the best stereo system available to play all your old Elvis  records on.  Pretty far out, don’t cha think?

Pipe Dreams

Nothing better than a good pipe dream.  You know, that unrealistic hope or fantasy one sometimes gets when locked into  a deep state of relaxation.  Well, I hit the pipe a little heavy one night, and along with a few glasses of a so-so chardonnay, had some strange thoughts.  And seeing that I have a blog, I’m gonna share them.

There’s nothing like a major kitchen remodeling to see forty years of marriage go right out the window.  My gawd, the choices ya have to make, and bullshit ya have to deal with.  I’m wondering if it’s worth it?

And speaking of bullshit: one morning at the Gym, my refuge and a true palace of testosterone,  I was working out and getting even more buff :), I asked the guy next to me what he did for a living  I knew he was in education, but not sure to what degree (no pun intended).   His response was, “I fuck with bullshit all day.”  “Well”, I said, “I’ll be dipped in shit if that ain’t what I do all day for a living.   Are you a probation officer?”

He was a school counselor, but the bottom line was (just like me), he fucked with bullshit all day.  I bet there’s a lot of people in the work force who do the same thing, but in slightly different ways.

So, back to pipe dreams.  The cool thing about a pipe dreams is: they don’t have to make sense, let alone have any basis in reality.  That’s why we dream them, because in reality, all one basically does all day is fuck with bullshit, and pipe dreaming is oh so much more pleasurable..

More Graffiti

Nothing against Bank of America, after all, it is America’s bank.  And if ya love America (and who doesn’t?) ya gotta love its bank.  I do.  That’s because that’s where all my money is, or at least where it is after I make my credit card payment.

Thankfully, they send me helpful messages and words of encouragement along with my monthly bills.  Don’t wanna miss a payment [actually they’d love it if I missed a payment, then they’d be able to ream me out with late fees and all kinds of bullshit].   So staying in control is something I wanna be doing all the time.  Especially when on the go!   Don’t wanna loose control and go in my pants!

Even the telephone company would like a cozier relationship with me, and has suggested I “bundle” with them.  Now I’m not quite sure what they mean by “bundling”, but I’m fairly certain it ends up with me getting screwed.  What a service.  I’m just not sure I want that kinda servicing.

Drawing Madness

You know, sometimes I can’t even believe some of the stuff I come up with in some of these drawings.  None of this stuff is planned.  For the most part all my drawings (well most of them), are spontaneous creations which I work into and let finished products arise.  Kinda like Big Pharma steering up a new batch of anti-depressants for all of us to mindlessly consume.

The challenge for me blog-wise, is to come up with some narrative as filler, (just like ‘padding’ a college term paper when ya really had nothing new to say, and had already plagiarized anything remotely relevant).  I hated writing term papers in college.  Mainly because I couldn’t write worth a shit, and my spelling and grammar were atrocious.  That’s why I was an Art major.  No term papers there.

Anyway, here’s where some cosmic karma comes around and bites ya in the ass.  Guess what I ended up doing for a living?   Yep…I wrote Probation Pre-Sentance  Reports for a living.  That’s like three term papers a week.  And it ain’t no fiction either (except the defendant’s take on things).  It was all facts!  Information unearthed, verified, condensed and concisely written as a social history of an individual about to be sentenced on a felony offense, with a recommendation to the Court re: prison or probation.

And because I couldn’t just say, “send this dirt-bag to the joint.”   I had to be creative and use a bunch of big legal-sounding words such as:  Due to the defendants lengthy prior record and increasingly violent offenses, it is felt that he is represents a danger to the community and should be incarcerated for a considerable amount of time, in order to impress upon him the seriousness of his offenses.

What a bunch of horse-shit.  Everybody in court knew what I was saying: “Send this dirt-bag to the joint”.  But no, before D B went off to the joint, an elaborate ritual had to take place [there is justice after all], wherein  the district attorney and public defender argued over what constitutes a threat, accurately defines a serious offense; and put a number to considerable in the amount of time this poor turd will spend in prison.  Then…it was off to the joint for his ass.

Pretty far-out.   Sure glad I don’t do that anymore and can focus on my drawing.

Tri-Phoria and the Wonder Bra

Back in the day when I first started blogging, I did a lot of parody posts about all the weird shit I saw on early morning Cable TV.  I get up pretty early in the morning, and before the gym opens at 5:00 a.m., I do a lot of stretching exercises in front of the tube.  And at 4;30 in the morning, it’s unbelievable all the crap they’re trying to sell ya.  I can live without the newest space-aged vacuum cleaner, and already have well cut abs (they’re just hiding under a layer of fat).

But when it comes to shit like “No Evil Oil”. How can I not help to get a little sarcastic, and verbally ream out the slick, southern, hoodoo preacher who’s selling that snake oil.  Great blog fodder.  Butt (a different type of but, butt the same) who can pass-up on something specially prepared, prayed over, and with hands laid upon by twelve Elders, that would bring ya nothing but good luck, and keep ya safe from all manner of harm?  I wanted to take a bath in that stuff.   But when they announced that it was sold by the ounce (yet probably made by the bath-tub full in someones trailer), and would cost ya a “generous gift” to this fake’s ministry, I decided to stick with my old tried and true “All Evil Oil”, which I’m using in full strength today.

I also found out about , and did posts on the “Wonder Bra”, or “Genie Bra’, same difference, just made  in different parts of China.  And…Tri-Phoria, the personal hand held vibrator from the folks at the Trojan rubber company (not to be confused with tire manufacturers).  those were so popular, that I did two posts on Tri-Phoria, mainly because the commercial for it was so outrageous, “blowing back the hair” of a bunch of little harlots raving about it at a bridal shower.  The Bride-to-be looked on in amazement, soon coming to the conclusion, “Who needs a man?”  Check out these little harlots.  It’ll Blow Your Hair Back

My stats swelled, like blood rushing to you know where, with posts like that.  Not that I was such a clever lampoonist, but because I added a shit-load of tags featuring Tri-Phoria and Wonder Bra key words.  All I could figure was that their was a lot of of horny full figured women (or kinky men) out there, in desperate need to know if this stuff actually worked as claimed.  When I got the comment: “I want one!  Please use overnight shipping.”  I knew I was on to something, or a gigantic disappointment to many.

Anyway, like the Church in the Middle Ages, I decided it was time to trot these relics out for the faithful.  To restore faith in Hansi, that he’s not totally gone over to a drawing only blog, but still has a few satirical marbles left in his head.  You may want to check out my 1950’s Japanese Godzilla/Rodan movie re-working called ‘Tri-Phoria versus Genie Bra“, complete with men in monster suits stomping the shit outta toy tanks and villages.

Well I’m just waiting now, like a monk hoping for that  ‘poor box’ to get filled.  Sure wanna   get a lot of views on this one.  Even added some new tags like: filth and, bad taste.  Don’t wanna leave anyone out 🙂

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