...on unwinding

the bastard just got parking on his street.

he doesn't know how he did it but,

I'm glad.

it has become my unwinding time.

it's less and less some days.

it's more and more some days.

I don't even care how long it is. as long as i get it.

—the bastard

...this weak in anime

so i was watching mobile suit victory gundam and the bastard wondered to himself,

what's up with all the racism cartoon?

what's up?

—the bastard

...on naming convention

behold y'alls!

behold the power of the internets

the bastard reads your letters.

he really does.

every time one of you jerks drops a comment, the bastard reads it.

it's important to know what your 5 readers think.

sometimes, you need correct.

and sometimes the bastard needs correct.

anyways, i recently got a comment from a post i did in april of 2008. coincidentally, it is named the same name as this post i did last week. so going forward, i think the phrase "everything is coming up bastard" will be a label instead.

but i digress, the comment was a response to the thread in the comments window in which i had mused to my brother about the whereabouts of a music teacher we both had in junior high school.

and said commenter informed me that he still walks the earth. although this man's custom made ba-sax (in which he would shove the mouthpiece of a bassoon into an alto sax for more screechy enjoyment) has been traded in for the shakuhachi, he still plays.

and he's out there.

and it brought up the handful of decent memories that i had of junior high school.

thanks stranger, you made an old bastard remember good things.

—the bastard

...on setbacks

well the bastard had a plan.

and it was good.

it's just not going to happen right now

and the bastard was bummed.

so i spoke with someone important about it and he said the idea still had legs but it's not right now in the money department.


so we're gonna do it anyway.

just with less money involved.

because any dumb thing your gonna do, your gonna do because you want to do it.

not because you want to make money at it.

although making money is good.

but doing it for the love makes it more worth it.

—the bastard

...on audacity

the bastard uses links to other websites mostly for humorous purposes.

like case and point, if i wanted to talk about the president, i'd link it to an image that may or may not be presidential.

however, i've been following this website for little over a week, since i signed up for the brammo electric motorcycle company's mailing list like umpety ump years ago. or maybe it was 6 months ago, i forget.

anyway, premise is this, two guys from brammo want to show the country their bike and they feel the best way to do this is to give one to president barry.

personally, i think the best way to make people buy an underpowered albeit beautifully designed bike more practical for the american people is to,

i dunno

make it less than 12 grand to ride.

now to be fair, it's actually more in the neighborhood of 11 grand but for a few hundred bucks more, you can have a comfy seat for it.

which brings the bastard to his point. there is a problem in this country with changing the hearts and minds of the people on the alternative fuels front.

it's expensive.

sure, the bastard wanted to buy a toyota prius, it gets huge mileage but it costs in the neighborhood of 23,000 at it's cheapest. so i bought a cheap asses hatchback that gets half the mileage for almost 10 grand less.

take the notion of eating healthy. you can clip coupons, shop for canned goods, buy meat that's 75% fat because it's on sale, buy cereal that's on sale, and you can die in 20 years from the enormous salt lick that is lodged in your carotid artery after the fact. yes, youc can cut meat out of your diet but, you have to get the protein somewhere. seitan costs money. but, i'm getting off message here.

if you wanna eat healthy, it costs more. if you want to drive an alternative fuel vehicle, it's gonna cost you.

this item is while on the surface, a fantastic idea (who the hell doesn't want to plug your bike into an outlet instead of going to a gas station?) but, it's a luxury item until there are enough people who can afford to buy a 12 thousand dollar electric motorcycle.

i certainly hope that these two guys from brammo actually succeed in getting their bike to barry just because a higher profile might prompt more to buy and then the bastard can look into buying, say, a 5 thousand dollar elctric motorcycle one day.



but today's the day they may be able to pass it off to him. maybe it'll work out. mebbe not

—the bastard

so poseidon came to the office today...

...and he was looking for the kraken.

the bastard told him that i couldn't help him with that.

he didn't believe me,

so i sent him to the editor in chief's office.

he couldn't help him either.

—the bastard

...on stampedes

the bastard has seen the difference between mythology and reality today.

no i'm not talking about our president's cracked halo.

i'm talking about the simple shit.

made myth.

then made real ,

and not nearly as impressive as the myth.

you see, up until this morning, the bastard had an elephant living upstairs from me.

an elephant in high heel shoes.

KLOMP, KLOMP, KLOMP,

she stomps around her apartment as if she's doing jumping jacks in heels.

KLOMP, KLOMP, KLOMP,

as she does laps around her 455 square foot box.

CRASH, JANGLE, JANGLE,

as she lifts her entire closet off the ground and empties it onto the floor spreading what only sounds like a metric ton of wire hangers jangling all along the ground.

or broken glass

or a jar of loose change.

night after night, i hear her over my headphones while i watch tv on my laptop at 1 in the morning.

even when she takes off her shoes, she sounds like she's hammering nails into the floor.

she must have been enormous, or had concrete shoes, or just plain had heavy feet.

as the bastard walked out of his apartment this morning, upon closing the door, after hearing the tell tale galoomping out the door and the sound of a fire door being slammed 1 floor above as my door closed 1 floor down, i rushed to the elevator to see if i could fit into the car with this behemoth only to find a little girl standing there listening to her iphone before she goes to work.

i must have been mistaken.

ground floor, i do the right thing and let her leave the car first

and

CLACK, CLACK, CLACK,

she stomps right out of the building, leaving potholes all along 24th street, as if you leave a trail for her to get home by later.

it was kind of disappointing and it made sense in a way. i think i might have to leave a note asking her to take off her shoes after 11pm as she stomps like a wooly mammoth but, she sounds just as lound sans footwear.

oh well, that's apartment living for you.

—the bastard

...on epidemics

it started out like this.

my ladyfriend was out for a solo mission with the bebe.

and for the life of her, she couldn't get anyone to hold open, let alone open a door for her and the fucking Cadillac of bebe carriages.

then finally some woman opened a door for her with her sleeve.

now you may have read about the h1n1 virus and the bastard understands that it can't hurt to play it safe but, there is such a thing as playing it too safe.

people walk the streets with surgical masks on.

wait.

no.

dust masks.

thus is a pic from the elevator bank on the bastard's floor.

really?

really?!?

I think too many people have read "the stand".

it would figure though if this virus got all out of hand.

ummmm, i gotta go wash my hands now.

—the bastard

...on currency

sometimes time is a premium.

currency that you have to save like a miser.

and the bastard hasn't had alot of it of late.

we're shipping the issue.

i'm ramping up for the next one.

been trying to get home at a reasonable hour so I can help out with my ladyfriend and the bebe.

days blend one into another.

it's a little sad sometimes.

but here I am drinking a glass which translates "devil" from the french.

got a night out.

to have a drink and bullshit with some friends.

next week my ladyfriend gets the same chance to hang out with her peeps.

she should take that chance.

a very wise friend told me that you have to make your own happy, and the bastard tries for his. I'd like to gave some downtime too.

should be good. chin chin jerks.

—the bastard

slice of life

dear son,

for a moment.

just this moment.

you are here with me.

on this corner,

in the downpour,

the cold and clammy downpour.

i see my breath for the first time this season,

and the bastard is glad.

this is my gift to you tonight,

revel in it as I have,

for this small slice of my life is now yours too. I'll see you soon.

—the bastard

the palace at 4 am

the bastard takes drugs at night.

no not those kind of drugs.

i'm allergic to the cat so i have to pack myself full of benedryl so i don't wake my ladyfriend

and the baby

and the cat

and perhaps the people who live downstairs.

anyway, i went to bed at one.

woke up an hour or so later and had to go to the bathroom

fell asleep and woke up in a dark room.


bewildered because i was sitting in the dark and disoriented from the benedryl, the bastard walked into a wall.

i was very concerned as i reached around me only touching flat surfaces, i envisioned that i had died

and had gone to hell.

and marcel marceau was the devil

and that hell is a small black box that you get to stay in for all eternity.

with a toilet.

i didn't have my knife, or my iphone.

i was horrified and reaching around in the dark until i wacked my hand into the towel rod.

and i realized that i wasn't dead.

relieved, i found the door,

left,

went back to sleep.

as the bastard drifted back into a benedryl induced slumber, somewhere in the distance, i could hear a mime crying.

—the bastard

everything is coming up bastard

it's like this.

the bastard is feeling less assey.

I am well on my way towards defeating whatever disease was trying to slow me down thanks to something in the hood of 10500 mg of vitamin c a day.

my publisher likes what I'm doing.

my competition is moving on to greener pastures

last night I became friends with an Indian guy in my building named "norm". nice guy. he made me think of morty from layer cake only without kicking the crap out of some guy who landed him on jail for 10 years.

I get along with the chairman of my ladyfriend's co-op board.

red beard has turned my publisher on to our little side project which I'll talk about later when it's more realized.

and I pulled a knife on redbeard this morning on my way to the bathroom.

I'm starting to feel more like myself today.

yesiree, everything is coming up bastard.

—the bastard

sunday boredom

the bastard is bored.

it looks like a good day to ride by all marks.

but the bastard pushes a stroller instead.

at least I have decent shoes on for walking.

9_9

—the bastard

everything in it's right place

there are some days where shit doesn't fall into place.

today wasn't one of those days.

the lil lady only got up twice overnight.

the bastard didn't feel like ass when he left work.

hell, the publisher even said good things about what I've been doing on the cover this last year.

I've been struggling the last few issues. that came at the right time.

my ladyfriend was having a rough day with the lil girl so I bought her some popeyes because it picks me up.

that worked out. the chicken was good too.

but it wasn't until I scored a fat spot for my car that the bastard realized that today was in it's right place.

in it's right time.

despite having a rough patch or two, it was in it's right place.

nice and smooth.

—the bastard

...and so it begins again

you know,

the bastard never wanted to be the smoking nazi.

but,

when john q. teva sandals and his Acapulco shirt decides to sidle his smoking touristy ass next to mine I gotta move.

you see, the bastard is trying to make his quality of life better by avoiding assholes.

smokers

loud people in stores.

the like.

you see I'm the type of guy who's gonna use his meanness and a new baby to make you feel bad for your asinine behavior.

but I'm gonna seethe first.

and I don't want to.

so I'm avoiding you.

try to avoid me.

love always,

—the bastard