His is the House of Pain

His is the House of Pain.
His is the Hand that makes.
His is the Hand that wounds.
His is the Hand that heals.

Not to run on all-fours; that is the Law. Are we not Men?
Not to claw the Bark of Trees; that is the Law. Are we not Men?

Let's Meat!

Oh yeah! When I'm not hanging on the rim... Let's meat!

It's Cinco de Mayo Somewhere

WOW!!! What a week. First I get my "pre" on:

Next is Cinco:

But it doesn't end - gotta get my "seis" on too!

OMG! I'm in heaven!

No More Violence Against Goats

The scene in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? when Deckard learns of how Rachel killed his goat always gives me chills.

But this just makes me sick. I can't stop being angry about it. Really. These guys aren't even androids, so they have no excuse.

Hanging on the Rim (pt. 3)

Another excerpt from Hanging on the Rim, a soon-to-be published epic poem about existentialism and sports:

...

Hanging on the rim

I begin to feel alone

I hear the screams of my thousands of fans

Most who have no idea how it feels

Hanging on the rim

It would be sweet to get internet

Up here on the rim

Because then I would tell the ladies

Hanging on the rim

Sometimes I get my head caught in the net

Getting out isn’t easy

Like a dry birth

...

Vegetarian & Vegan Elites

You know you are eating at a fancy restaurant when they have signs like this on the wall. Personally, I like eating meat, but I've never ever ever ever slept with a woman who is not a vegetarian or vegan elite. The idea of falling into the folds of passion with someone base enough to feed on animal flesh disgusts me, and, frankly, makes it difficult to get aroused - not even a semi.

There you have it, ladies. I only get with elites. Like Shania or Leonardo da Vinci.

(sorry for the poor photos!)

Hanging on the Rim (pt. 2)

Another excerpt from Hanging on the Rim, a soon-to-be published epic poem about existentialism and sports:

...

Hanging on the rim

I speak with the Gods

They see their favorite son and say,

“Chimi, how’s it goin’?”

Hanging on the rim

You might see a banshee

Or you might see an angel

It is hard to tell the difference, sometimes

Hanging on the rim

I never flinch at banshees

They get in my face

They rarely touch it though!

Hanging on the rim

I recall life on the farm before the war

It was a simpler time with early mornings

and long evenings of Champ’s folk songs

Hanging on the rim

Champ, my older brother

In charge of the stables

The H to my M

Hanging on the rim

I can still see the room in the Thai hotel

And Champ covered in blood and mumbling

Something about a stolen organ.

Hanging on the rim

I wish I had a shirt gun

Because I could shoot the shirt pretty far

I think, from the rim.

...