the bastard TOTALLY needs to get back to the gunpla

tonight the bastard dug up a freebie he got when he picked up a copy of dengeki magazine.

1/810 ideon model that isn't all that challenging.

the bastard is just trying to make space.

I may be winding up black f91 after the boy goes home next week so I can deal with his absence.

until it becomes my norm again.

but I had done a little business with the builder last week and he had something for me to build.

something for the boy to build.

something for me. a match for my real grade.

getting a free model totally takes the sting out of pro Bono work for good friends.

and while I could use some pay work, I like doing the work anyway.

stretches the brain once in a bit.

that and the robots. I've been building for damn near 30 years and I have yet to learn ANY Japanese yet.

I should.

I'd like to go there one day.

I'd like to ride across the country too on a motorcycle.

see if I can get either done.

until then… it's gunpla

—the bastard

…the white ogre

the bastard actually started working on the ogre a few weeks ago after my bout with the 1/144 real grade.

aside from putting the hands together, this won't be too too hard to build.

however it's the paint job that'll be the challenge.

but the bastard is confident that between a screw, a candle, and a bachelors in fine art, he can figure out how to make this thing look like it's been though the ringer.

—the bastard

…on cons…

…and comics


this just in.

there's a giant gundam in manhattan.



and little goth girls attacking giant monsters


and comics about ayn rand. yeah you guessed it jerks.

the bastard went to the comic convention. my friend, the builder, invited me to hang out at the show where I saw many things.

for one, too many adults are wearing headbands from naruto for my taste. and there were many disheveled super heroes to be found.

way too many of them.

and left hand rob was there.

and the tin man

and the scarecrow.

and alot of women in thigh highs and latex.

you see

I'm used to going to gun shows and the only people in costume there are wearing camouflage anyway.

so this was something new.

—the bastard

this weak in anime

only you can prevent fansubs.

only you.

—the bastard

more things the bastard bought at a Japanese big box store

for your consideration…






…ultraman lemonade

the bastard bought this because it looked like a robot. the builder told me what it's contents were.

I will leave all urine related discussion about the contents of this can of lemonade to the mad Russian.

because it's a goddam gimme.

—the bastard

this weak in anime

remember when it used to be cool to smoke?

the bastard does.

and it was interesting how it popped up in pop culture back in the day.

this was from the original macross series which aired as robotech in the late 80's/early 90's.

presumably without this scene as it no doubt ran on wpix alongside voltron and g.I. Joe.

can aliens say flavor country?

—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 product placement

tired? worn out?


work got you all stressed out?



having trouble making that long drive home after drinking a full bottle of bourbon?


kids getting on your nerves?

get some fresh nap. it'll cure what ails ya.



fresh nap; it's not just for breakfast anymore.

—the bastard

context

...and comparison

television is a fucking desert during the holidays.

so tonight, my ladyfriend and i watched sid and nancy on my ipod.

well, not on the little screen. I patched it to her laptop and watched it that way.

and I have to say, in retrospect to where i was then and where i am now, the bastard wasn't terribly impressed. i mean I saw the damn film like 20 times but, for some reason, it seemed full of cheap trickery and adolescent film devices. i was a little disappointed.




so then I got into bed and finished kill your boyfriend and i have to say, in context of where i am today and how the bastard came away from sid and nancy, i was floored.

read the damn afterwards.

and the bastard doesn't ever give a shit about what the author thinks about his own work...

ever

but, it reeled me in. grant morrison broke alot of ground, and a bunch of taboos in this little one off. and it was so much more.

or maybe, the bastard wants to go on a murderous rampage through the English countryside.

-the bastard

there's no time

so the other day, i saw the trailer for the 24 movie that will be airing in november. and while it has robert carlyle in the cast (still rooting for him to replace david tennant should he give up the role of doctor who), it seems like a strange departure for jack bauer.



it's like this. i had read that because of the unpopularity of our protracted conflicts in the middle east, the producers felt that 24 needed to go with a new enemy and something something something. and in the movie, he's like saving kids in some african nation that is an amalgamation of sudan/liberia/rwanda/zimbabwe and any other nation that has gone to hell on that continent.

it's a decent jump off for next season but it seems very un-jack-like to have him saving a bus full of kids.

anyway, the bastard was sharing his thoughts on the trailer with left hand rob, and the bastard took some license. i told him the basic plot and

"i think that because of the iraq war, they want to soften up jack bauer a little. make him more liberal friendly."

"oh"

"like i think in next season jack switches political parties and is chased by a bunch of republicans wearing sean hannity masks"

"as long as they cut off alan colmes hand in the process"

"i think that at some point jack will have alan colmes' hands zip tied to the steering wheel of his prius and jack will use bolt cutters to get information from him"

11:59:58 (boom)

11:59:59 (boom)

12:00:00 (boom)

—the bastard

...on dress codes

the bastard has been living in the FoHi since about 1996. i used to work at a grocery store in the middle of it from 1992 through about 1994. safe to say, i've put in some time here. now since there was a large influx of russians into the community due to a little thing we like to call glasnost.

and when the russians came over, they started buying what was hip at the time regardless of age. this culminated for the bastard during the summer of 1998, when while purchasing ice cream at a carvel the bastard witnessed two late 40 somethings russian gentlemen sporting threads from roca wear. this made me question the notion of whether newly emigrated peoples are really aware of what is age appropriate clothing. or perhaps the notion might have been moreseo about how if something is really really expensive, then it must be the thing to wear.


the bastard hadn't thought about that night until last night when i was taking the train home from work late. you see, when you head home during regular rush hour, you head home with the rank and file new yorkers who are coming home from their regular jobs. well, an hour or so later seems to be the time that all of the really choice folks get the ride home.


as illustrated here. this guy is balding, mind you and not to take away from the fact that the bastard is in fact bald himself, i would never wear anything to attempt to draw attention to it. but this guy was decked out in SO much young hiphop wear, i just had to diagram it out for you. and to think, there were 4 young guys dressed just like this that were high school age and looking for trouble. so much so, that it prompted the bastard to decide to wait for the next train to avoid said trouble. sometimes i'm convinced there is a god and that he has my sense of humor. thanks god, you're a real pal.

—the bastard

things the bastard overheard at an off broadway show

"oh mah god?"

"what?"

"dear god, please don't make me have to pee during the show?"

"oh my god?"

"what?"

"the second act like totally sucked?"

don't say that to brooke (the playwright) when you meet her?"

the bastard saw a little play called hunting and gathering with his ladyfriend last night and it was very promising. although since, we're obviously in the same age group as the author, and i've dealt with a playwright or two in my time, i can't help feeling that every quirky romantic comedy i see on a small stage is a future indy film in the making. maybe the bastard thinks cinematically because he watched too many movies (i'm still waiting for get carter, the musical), or maybe he just sees the ambition in the playwrights work. or maybe it's because the playwright i used to do design for always wanted to make a movie about her plays which were about her drug habits in the 80's but, always seemed rushed when written out.

don't get me wrong, hunting and gathering is quite good. the bastard had a good laugh. and the bastard got some insite but, sometimes, it was a little clunky. i know clunky probably isn'ty a reviewer term but then again the bastard doesn't review plays, so go to hell. anyway. it was good enough to develop into a film and brooke.

don't be fooled.

they totally didn't like the second act.

—the bastard

PS: there's this part in the play where the main character is housesitting in astoria. and more than one of the characters is creeped out by the notion of queens AND is put off by the notion that people from queens feel that queens is a "real" neighborhood because we have greek bakeries or somesuch. the bastard has said it before and he'll say it again, you TRANSPLANTS need to get off of the outer boroughs' dick (see staten island, i'm sticking up for you too albeit begrudgingly). now i'm not directing this at the playwright due to the fact that she's logged 20 years on this rock but, manhattan is only a shining crystal palace because you came from crapper out in the plains states and because carrie anne moss told you that all things taste better with manolo blahniks on your feet. manhattan is just a rock like any other rock, and brooklyn is not it's ugly step sister. eat it.

...on accessorizing

the bastard is hard on wallets.

and the bastard is hard ON the wallet.

that's not to say i don't try to get a good buy now and again.

but seriously, the bastard is really hard on wallets.

i destroy them.

they fall apart pretty quickly, which always prompts me to wonder why i even try to spend decent money on a wallet.

buy one of them 5 dollar specials and use it until it falls apart.

problem is this.

they fall apart faster.

so while shopping on the internet i caught myself a bargain and decided to pick up a wallet while i was on the site. quickest delivery i ever got. once i took it out of the box, the bastard realized that he had gone too far.


yeah, it's pretty bad. but it's mine. so go to hell. now every time i go to pay for something, i'm going to wish that they would figure out a way to bring the invisibles to television. maybe the guys who did the matrix could do it but, then again, they stole whole pages from the invisibles to make the matrix look as dope as it was.

oh well.

go to hell.

—the bastard

...on exposure

so about a month or three ago, the bastard had noticed on his morning news station that there were people singing, another day, there were these two guys rapping and playing violins.

yes.

i know.

violins.

the bastard doesn't really get it but, they don't pay me to do so. i get paid to make magazines. and to do the devil's work. but the news hasn't been the same since it began to be held accountable for it's own ratings by television stations. however this sort of thing is an interesting agreement one makes with fame (she's a bitch goddess you know). you agree to do a spot for a news station so that you can get more exposure but instead, you become the butt of jokes around the collective water coolers around town.

it seems that there is a wave of advertising these days to make the news more entertaining. case meet point.



this comes up periodically as the silliness that is new york 1 is a frequently discussed topic at the office. and speaking of new york 1, the p cat should love this. apparently gary anthony ramsay was fired by new york 1 for prank calling his own station. i saw him on the street once on my way to the train. he was a little guy. and he screwed up big. oh well.

—the bastard

..do you feel like i do

the bastard isn't really a huge fan of peter frampton. mostly because if there was ANY one that i wanted to show me the way , it sure as shit ain't him. but this morning, while i was making my breakfast, i heard the tail end of this commercial. and before i left, they ran it again and it made me laugh.

it's funny how frampton gets inserted into the pop culture lexicon late in his career. he's been on the simpsons. he's been on family guy. it's fascinating. maybe he wants to stay in the public eye in some capacity. maybe he just has a sense of humor.

but i sure as shit don't feel like he do.

—the bastard

...on formulas

so left hand rob throws this one the bastard's way. you see, in his quest to overthrow the current administration, he occasionally finds some very useful information. now a couple month's back, i was discussing the mathematical basis behind why mim is hot but, someone has compiled several mathematical formulas as they apply to various hip hop songs. i especially like the graph that plots the amount of gibberish you speak against the amount you forgot about dre. very poignant.

also, if you notice here, while less than half of the population sees chamillionaire rolling and exactly half of the population is hating, only a small amount of the population is trying to catch him riding dirty. breathtaking figures my friends.

no

wait.

we're not friends. i hate you. my mistake.

—the bastard

this just in...

robert goulet has died at the age of 73. now no one will mess up my office while i sleep. that commercial was gold. and speaking of gold, i loved it when will ferrell did him on snl. watch it while you can.

big poppa. i love it when you call me big poppa.

—the bastard

...on beverages

the bastard swears, can't people just ordr frikkin coffee? two. no. three times i heard some suv driving pinhead ordering a venti, no sugar, dolce, (which is italian for SWEET asshole) carmel, soy, latte with no sugar and soy foam with no sugar in a big cup so i can dunk my ridiculous head in it when i get to work and drown. DROWN in my fake ass coffee!!!!!!!!

this is what the bastard does with his free time when he's visiting the boy...people watching. watching people order they drinks while i eat my brekky. you know, it's funny how in so many different places, the pretention remains the same. it's refreshing, in a sort of disgusting way.

—the bastard

the devil went down to...jersey? pt3

so upon arriving, and we did arrive arrive with time to spare for the main event. however, we did manage to miss the opener , which was okay. you've seen one whiney gothic looking emo band, you've seen them all. no muss, no fuss. but then the main event hit. and boy did it hit.

at this point, the bastard had texted to scoop and the chairman that he had died and gone to mook heaven. the chairman asks how many mullets. i fail to take the mullet toll. sometimes, it's just too much to take in.

now, it's been a long, long time since the bastard has been to an arena show. and i must admit, i AM a music snob. the last show i went to was to see mastadon. the last show before that was to see the gorillaz. i've seen scraping foetus off the wheel, i've seen sick of it all close the superbowl of hardcore. i've seen stuff that was considered "better" than this band by alot of my circle of friends. but after seeing this band, i have to say they are the fucking kings of parking lot jock rock. which is NOT to be confused with cock rock. on my way to the bathroom, i text to the hockey fan that i see a boy with a sgt pepper jacket dancing around with fingerless gloves and old women dancing around like strippers in the aisles. the fan texts back that it sounded like an average night at the bastard's house.

granted, arena rock is alot to take in. but, i've never seen so many people older than me, so drunk unless it was a wedding. and so many mooktastic mooks. guys with buzzcuts, glazed over with the kind of drunk that only exists in parking lots of concert arenas, with their drunken wives who are wearing so much makeup that you need to apply it with a putty knife and take it off with a chisel, they stride obliviously throught the arena spilling their miller lite on them selves and spilling others on themselves as they struggle to not have the courtesy to make eye contact or even to watch where the hell they were going. but, it's to be expected. after all was said and done, all things considered, the bastard had a good time. it was a good show. bands that stay together for this long can only get better with time. and it's also a time and place for thousands of mooks and rock and roll sluts to re-live their salad days of rocking with their cocks out.

i've seen a million faces...and i've mocked them all. sure that's cheesy but, you can go to hell. this is my world. life without me is like cornflakes without the milk. yeah and i fart ambrosia too.

—the bastard

the bastard has to tell you something...

...the taking of pelhan 1-2-3 is the shit. i just got finished with it and i have to say that this is one of my more favorite walter matthau films. i've seen him in a number of flicks but this was a frikkin gem. fantastic cast. fantastic story. and above all else, it was a very new york film. in the same vein as the warriors but, obviously a standard for new york films. fantastic. see it. go on. see it! you jerk!

—the bastard