Sunday, September 15, 2019


09/09/2019 - 09/15/2019

People like to make fun of people with neck tattoos.  Mostly it’s just dorky, straight white, middle to upper-middle class white people that fire the shots.  What do they know?  They think they’re right; they’re wrong. 

I like cashing big fat checks and depositing thick rolls of cash money at the bank with tattoos on my face and on my everything else.  I enjoy driving vehicles off of lots and closing on properties with ‘PUNX’ tattooed on my knuckles.  I get a great charge out of enjoying every last bit of my comprehensive benefits package at Osteopaths and acupuncture sessions and I always have a relaxed chuckle to myself after a nice long professional massage.  The reason I get such a kick out of it is because people take 1 look at me and assume that I’m a “scumbag” or a “piece of shit”.  
I am not.  
NOTHING I’ve ever done in my life would warrant those titles, least of all my tattoos. 

I’m guilty by preconception. 

I’m used to it because I’ve dealt with it my whole life.  Self inflicted? Maybe, but no more than I’m a product of my environment as much as every single other person in the world. The SAME.  I made my choices in life but they were, exactly that, MY choices.  I don’t judge the dorky whites for CHOOSING to live their buttoned down, vanilla sex (or lack there of) self righteous lives because ITS NONE OF MY BUSINESS.  
I teach my kids that we have 2 ears and 1 mouth because we’re supposed to listen twice as much we speak.  Most times, if you’re listening closely, you’ll find there’s no need to speak at all and that’s why we’re able to keep our mouths shut while our ears stay open.  That’s why our heads turn to look away and we have 2 feet to leave.  
I don’t entertain these people and they sure don’t entertain me. 
I know where I came from and what I did to get where I am today.  
(Good luck coming through that without a mark on ya!)

My text tattoo (if I can find the space) May be of a guy robbing a liquor store (a la Colin Quin’s Lenny the Lion -SNL circa 1997) because fuck you. 

I gave myself my first tattoo when I was 13.  I straightened the pin on the back of a Sex Pistols badge, dipped it in india ink, sat on my bed and went to town.  I cleaned the blood and ink with my 'The Simpsons' T-shirt and wore it to school the next day.  A friend of mine asked me what the mess on my shirt was and I pulled up my sleeve to reveal my brand new anarchy circle A!  (Long since regrettably covered up with more tattoos) 
She asked if I did this to myself and when I told her I did she said I was insane. 

My brother Harold got Hot Wheels’ Fire strips tattooed up both sides of his penis.  You might think that’s insane too, but he got more action because of those tattoos than I can tell you about here.  Maybe that’s not your thing either; to each their own.  After Harold died, our best friend Paul and I got matching tribute tattoos in memoriam. We mixed some of his cremated ashes in with the ink. 

People will always think they’re better than you in life; they are not. 
You’re only competition is yourself. 

Never give up until your good is better and your better is best. My Papa used to tell me that.  He also used to tell me to go to the store and get him a box of biscuits, a box of mixed biscuits and a biscuit mixer. Now THAT is insane. 
Subvert normality and fuck the system.
(they'll do the same to you)

On Monday I got my FINAL show dates:

Thursday November 14th 8PM
& Thursday November 21st 8PM
Bad Dog Theatre Company
Tickets available 

Then I went and did an ADR session for a short film we did last November called 
On Tuesday I met with Onan & discussed some work for BLOOD as well as plans for a new 
twitchy tantrum album!
On Wednesday my apple music expired and I had to listen to the radio on the drive to AND from work.  I opted for classical, it always helps me relax and feel completely psychotic at the same time.
Daniel Johnston died.
On Thursday I switched shifts for my 3pm-11pm with my buddy John at work so I could do 7am-3pm and play in Triptych at Bad Dog at 8;
whatta guy!
On Friday I went back to the Osteopath and it was GREAT!
(She even cupped my legs this time!)
On Saturday I finally got to spend some time with my girls in the morning before work while my Wife got her nails did!
On Sunday I stayed home...


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