I just wrote the following in an attempt to "street up" the first line of body copy, as directed by the client:

Get your texting skills ready, cause here's your chance to hang with Xzibit.
Got mad texting skills? Here's your chance to hang with Xzibit.
Wanna hang with Xzibit? Time to get your text on.
Wanna hang with Xzibit? Get your texting skills ready.

Yeah, cause nothing says authentic urban slang like...texting.




Can I crawl back into bed now? Thanks.




...from the "lookin' for a turbo" files.


Oh man, that song "Low Desert" kinda sounds like a rock song coming out of these here soundsticks. And by "kinda sounds like a rock song" I mean sounds different from ever before. Not like I listen to new adventures a whole whole lot. Ok now I'm rambling.
Damn, these soundsticks are magical.

Grab the rifle granny, it's FEUDING TIME...apparently.

And since I failed to pencil "deal with baggage" into today's schedule, I very much need to get back to the business of real life. Concepts due EOD as fucking usual.

Meanwhile, in a suburb not too far away, an unsuspecting tween forks out eighteen bucks for this album. It is at that moment when the third seal is broken.

I am supposed to be writing even more ads featuring this whole hip hop supastar xzibit extravaganza, but I am finding it rather difficult to concentrate. I feel like back in college or high school even (like I can remember that far back) when I waited until sunday evening to start studying for monday morning's test. Granted this is much much easier, but I'm a little distracted by the fact that I've yet to find out whether kevin is alive or has gone by way of improper chainsaw usage. Or even back in town for that matter.
What a crap weekend. No money to go out with, not even enough to eat with, sleeping or staring at a wall by myself, chainsmoking, feeling physically ill due to various factors, shuffling from place to place, feeling like I don't even factor in. I can't believe I have to write hiphop headlines.

Something of mine had better get pimped as a result of this, is all I'm saying.

I am approaching overdrawn. I am also living like a hitman.




"You're gonna have to come with me to the bar and order that yourself, cause there's no way I'm asking for a 'dirty martini'."





It's not really driving if you're just sitting there.




I'm leaving the internet now to take a shower, and then see what's what.

I wonder which member of the Rolling Stones Johnny Depp channeled for this one...

Charlie and The Chocolate Factory- Burton edition.

Oh Tim Burton you never fail to mildly entertain me in that way that is not offensive but not really scary either!

God, what a shit morning. Details, details, no details. It's not worth complaining about- there's already too much bullshit on the internet.

Instead I will invite everyone to enjoy this delightful short film starring Mr. T. It involves a certain dance sensation referred to simply as "Jeff".

Here is where you click to witness some feets of fury.



(my boss just called me into his office and told me i needed to "dumb down" my writing for the illiterate masses. i think we have a theme for the week. yes, rather.)

throw your hands in the air...then ascend into heaven like you just don't care...






Jesus enjoys really shitty entertainment.

Pics from way far back (in the variety playhouse, not time) at the Magnetic Fields, and East Side Lounge after.
(i actually like the east side pics better so i will post more of those)










the camera thinks my arms are made of plastic, I believe.

My favorite thing about livejournal?
All the emotionally unstable teenagers who leave comments on my journal. Go back to reading your Harry Potter, young miss(ter?), and leave me the hell alone.

There is nothing I enjoy more than arguing with crazy people.

Magnetic Fields tonight!
That is about the only exciting thing going on right now.
Oh, and I saw Jane Fonda in the parking garage this morning. That was kinda cool. She is tiny.

That is all.

A quick link, while I'm thinking about it.

Some of you have probably heard of MK12, some not. They are a design house out of Kansas City (where everything's up to date!), specializing in what I believe is called motion graphics. Clearly I do not partake in the field of design, but I still love to look at their stuff.
Even if they did do a Faint video.

Anyways, click here to view their website.

Oh, and be sure to check out their self-promo video "4D Softcore Sweaterporn". It's not what you think.

here is a smackling of their print work:

Here Are My Top Ten Album Picks For The Year(s):

uno: U2, How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
dos: U2, How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
tres: U2, How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
catorce: U2, How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
ocho: U2, How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
doscienta: U2, How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
treinta: U2, How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
diecinueve: U2, How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
veintiocho: U2, How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
diez: U2, How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb



p.s. U2 sucks.

Well lookee here. If it isn't the side view of of a collision of two gold beams in the Relativistic Heavy Ion Collider.



Science never lets me down I tell you what.

These are the Armies of The Night. They are 100,000 strong. They outnumber cops five to one. They could rule New York. Tonight they're all out for the Warriors.

If you haven't seen this, there is a pirate riding a shark-on-fire-shaped hole in your life:

How To Kill A Mockingbird.

A friend of mine just sent this to me via i-chat:

The New DJ Revolution: mp3j's who use iPods: "Somewhere in East Atlanta the turntables are motionless. The only thing spinning is a chorus of iPod hard drives, or the ceiling (if you're friends with the bartender). The club is the Echo Lounge and the event is called noWax. The concept for noWax is simple: MP3s, not wax. iPods, not decks. On noWax nights, mp3j’s bring their iPods and wait for the automated projector above the DJ booth to flash their number. They then plug-in and mix three songs back-to-back against another mp3j. noWax is a public competition very similar to 'Rap Battles', a la Eminem's movie 8 Mile." except of course.. The music will be MUCH better. This is the first event of it's kind in North America.. and it's happening on Wednesday December 15th 2004 at The Echo Lounge.

The only thing Atlanta needs less than the proliferation of (EVEN MORE) talentless DJs is fifteen extra condo developments build on top of my head. Sometimes I wanna slap this city around like the little bitch it is.

Finally! All the mysteries of the universe, explained!

Here's a compilation of all the video footage from the R.E.M. show in full Quicktime glory:

Click here to experience some hastliy edited together footage!

My eyes are burning just a bit and I think I may be getting sick again. I actually am getting sick again, or well now let's force this into the present tense roundabout let's just say I am sick again. Every time I sneeze it echoes off the cement and bounces around, the echo loud enough to embarrass even the least-occupied of rooms. By least I mean of course myself and the sole occupant of the couch, though that person is quite lost in the deep sleep process of being slowly digested by the cushions.
And so it's Friday night 2am and so I am sitting on the rug, one thin layer from floor, I am on a stationary life-raft, calm seas, and I am feeling rather flat myself. The volume on the television is almost indistinguishable from my keystrokes, forming an inconsistent texture, one long flat noise eating away at the seconds. I should be on the outabouttowns or at the very least tipsy and attempting something akin to sleep. I don't wear listless well. My mind wanders to irrational territory and gains comfort in problems that do not exist outside it's established borders. No, let's plant our flag elsewhere- I want to lead the next generation of conquistadors into the scant-remaining uncharted territories, namely grey matter, namely so.
Nothing is happening, nothing is the happening, this is about how it's happening all around me, the dust collects and I am taking note. Note.

The couch talks in it's sleep, though nothing remotely transcribable, is it slavic? I don't know any of your dialects. I am going to have a cigarette despite respiratory protests, and maybe turn off the tv, and maybe return to the same Nabakov sentence I am reading over and over, and then give up on writing all together because that sentence sets the bar entirely too high.

They should change the name of the olympic event "discus throwing" to "discus hurling". I think that would garner a lot more interest in the sport.

For your Thanksgiving viewing pleasure, here is a turducken stuffed with delicious Bono:

Ladies and gents, Third Eye Films in association with Camp Basement Productions is proud to present:
The Legend Of Spalding

It's majestic. In that way that things are not really all that majestic, but really kind of crappy. Like a convention, or a jim carrey movie.

I know it's close to ye olde holiday season cause I've been listening to the Beatles all morning. Now I'm out like Flynn/Flint, and hell if I'm not bringing the leftovers with.

This is literally the worst baklava I have ever laid tasts buds on. Seriously whoever is passing this off as baklava needs to stay the hell away from baked goods so as he/she can think about what they have done. To me. And my tummy.

I am still eating the baklava.

Picture posting is BACK IN ACTION....here's some from Halloween, plus randomness before and after.

Halloween! It's Halloween:





The Arc of the Covenant as reenacted by some chess pieces:

The Dawn of the Saw:

From the floor which doth not exist:


At the Brick Store:


Nashvilly (all hail bellsouth):


Eastside (lounge), yo:



Jen M's b-day party:

Cole wearing a hat (pic by erin, I believe):

Kitty porn?:

The Abonimable Rugman:

As of late, I have practically been living in the loft located directly underneath Jane Fonda.

I do not feel like I am taking full advantage of this situation.

Kevin's List of Possible Dog Names, Contributed To By Me (Who Enjoys Naming Things)

Turbo
Bo-bo
Kevin, Jr.
Banjo
Snake Face
Lightening
Taco
Suitcase
Pit-Pat
Sandwich
Awesome
Banana
Horse
Biscuit
Falcon
Larry
Jerry
Tony
Danza
Laser
Death-Ray
Destroyer
Shaq
Pizza
Toyota
Truck
Filibuster
Gerrymander
Jeep
Bronco
Circuit
Cocaine
Flip Spiceland
The Falconer
Satan
Professor
Computer
Superdude
Ultradog
Komatsu
Froto
Honda
Triangle
Starcrunch
Tank
Starship
Spaceship
Booster
Rocket
Motor
Mustang
Tornado
Tomato
Football
Cowboy
Batman
Galactic
Cheeto
Urkel
Senator
T-Rex
Casio
Void Demon
Bacon
Pants
Thunderdome
Mickey
Electrode
Thunder
Doglet
Frog
James K. Polk
Guv'ner

kevinquinnyo: why does it have to have a red eye
kevinquinnyo: to make it extra robotic and scary?
ladydehumidifier: YES
ladydehumidifier: and so the other sharks will make even more fun of it
kevinquinnyo: poor robo shark
ladydehumidifier: robots have no feelings
kevinquinnyo: what happens if his circuits get wet
ladydehumidifier: do not feel sorry for the robot
kevinquinnyo: robo shark was programmed to feel shame
ladydehumidifier: hahaha
ladydehumidifier: aw
ladydehumidifier: if his circuits gets wet
ladydehumidifier: then every marine animal in the general vicinity is screwed
kevinquinnyo: except the electric eel
ladydehumidifier: the electric eel eats electricity


Oh, and apparently Russia is building a new nuclear missle. I smell another space race, you guys!!

Apparently "giant squid" is the hot new term for "random drunken hipster".

Copy transcribed from a 1986 brochure picked up at the Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral (Florida), a brochure found among a mountain of maps while cleaning out the trunk of my old car, as left over from my mother's packrat tendencies.

One small step...to history in the making!

SEE-IT-ALL GUIDED TOURS

Make your visit a lifetime memory! Take a guided bus tour featuring live/taped narration and camera stops. And for years to come, as you watch historic launches on TV you can say "I've been there."

On the RED TOUR you may (operations permitting)...
-Experience a simulated Apollo 11 moon launch countdown from the site where all the Apollo astronauts trained; inspect a Saturn V rocket that stretches more than 300 feet, and see the enourmous Vehicle Assembly Building (one of the world's largest buildings);
-See massive 6 million pound Crawler Transporters that carry Space Shuttles to their launch pads; and...
-Take a look at the pads where ALL the Apollo moon missions were launched and ALL Space Shuttles lift off.

On the BLUE TOUR you'll...
-Visit Cape Canaveral Air Force Station where the history of the early space program unfolds for you; (operations permitting) you may...
-See the sights where the first astronauts were launced in the Mercury and Gemini programs;
-Discover a host of current launch pads used for various scientific, commercial and military missions, and you may visit the Air Force Space Museum with it's one-of-a-kind collection of early Air Force rockets and space memorabilia, and see the old mission control building.

Tours available for a modest fee. We recommend buying your tickets early to reserve your space for scheduled tours.
Please remember...you'll be touring an actual working space center, so your itenerary is subject to change due to launch preparations and other activities. But you will get a view of things not open to the general public, and you can take pictures.

Allowing pictures? Averages joes inspecting rockets? State-of-the-art equipment assembly open for all to view? A modest fee? This had to be written post-glasnost.


I am ready to leave work now, ok?

Possible names for (pseudo) metal bands.

trauma concept
anguish syndrome
Paradox Fear
Gaping Notion
Goatmilk
Manntis
Dogma's Progeny
Derivativity
Praying Mentis
Scion of Scorn
Zsion
Zscyonne
Tzsion
Tzsc'oin
JFDJDFHJHEFHYYUGRKE

Damn, how awesome would a Kenny Loggins cover of "Fuck Da Police" be...



You'd rather see me in the pen
Then me and Lorenzo rollin in the Benzo
Beat tha police outta shape
And when I'm finished, bring the yellow tape
To tape off the scene of the slaughter
Still can't swallow bread and water


right.