PRETTY MAGAZINE: THE HOUR

This was my first bit of contribution to Pretty Magazine, an all photo, fashion and culture magazine based in Wichita. I shot some of the Lost in Base photos in the middle and the images for the Caring Hands Humane Society adoption page at the end. There are a lot of great photos by some very talented people in there. Check it out!

Pretty Magazine
Issue 2
The Hour

Open publication

Back story on my shoots:
Lost in Base was an electronic dance music show hosted by the Electric Collective. There were six rooms, 40 DJ's, go-go dancers, a butt ton of gyrating people and a freaking moon bounce! It was a myriad of electronica ranging anywhere from ambient to dubstep and over all a pretty awesome show. If you want to see more photos, go to electriccollective.com.

The shelter kitty shoot was fun and those cute little buggers were all over the place. Ava Woody (model), Kacy Crider (editor), Alexis Brock (videographer), and I were all stuck in the little white viewing room surrounded by about seven rambunctious kittens. You know you have an interesting photo shoot on your hands when you have a kitten climbing your leg at every turn... literally. Not that I minded though, they were so freaking adorable.

I'll be posting more images from each soon so stay tuned!

WHITE ROOM

I'm driving in my truck with two girls, both in their twenties. The conversation is light and flowing. Our chatter turns towards the interesting names that some artists give their studios and what we would all name our own. I then proceed to explain why I would name mine "The Station."

ME
"I'm naming mine The Station because the whole thing is completely white. As my brother and I were painting it, the song White Room by Cream popped into my head. We sang it heartily and it just fit! I'm totally going to hang black curtains up too."

GIRLS
(blank stares)

ME
"You know…"
(I begin to sing terribly)
"In the white room, with back curtains, near the station…"

GIRLS
(silence)

ME
You know… Eric Clapton?

GIRL IN BACK SEAT
Yah, I've heard my dad play that.

ME
(awkward laugh)

The awkward moment came and went and the conversation rolled on without a hitch. I just felt like sharing that little bit of sadness.



That song fucking rules.
The End.

TWO OUT OF SEVEN

WSU: BATTLING FOR BASIC SKILLS CREDIT

Let me explain the two basic foundations for my return to college. First, I want to learn new art techniques and grow as an artist. Yes, a degree in graphic design from a state university would be awesome, but that is not my number one priority. I have been working in the design industry for years and none of that was attributed to a piece of paper from any college. Secondly, I'm affording tuition due to my GI Bill funding that I earned through military service. It only lasts two years so I have to make the most of it and learn as much about art as I can. That being said, WSU refuses to accept my English 101 and College Algebra credits. I've gone from department to department and everyone just keeps shuffling me along and washing their hands of me. I know it's just two measly classes but they have already cast aside most of my credits from Virginia. I will not let them bend me over the barrel this time.

The English department does not believe that CLEP (College Level Examination Program) exams prepare students enough for English 102. Hence, they are not accepted. The asinine thing is, I took 102 this semester at WSU and passed with an A. Now they want me take 101 because I never should have been cleared by my student adviser to take 102 in the first place. I went to the assistant director of the English department, swallowed my pride, and tried to plead my case. I explained that I barely have enough school funding from the government to get my Bachelors and that I couldn't afford tuition otherwise. Her response was that Butler (a community college here in Wichita) has cheap classes and that I could go there to take English 101. Wow, really? She might as well have said go away poor person. The second issue is a ridiculous technicality. I took College Mathematics and not College Algebra. Come on WSU, these are basic skills general education classes. Why is this even a fight?

When I was getting my degree in photography from Tidewater Community College in Virginia, it seemed a lot less full of filler. I took relevant classes and I didn't have to jump through hoops left and right. Of course there were prerequisites, but TCC seemed to cater more towards those that wished to learn. It's like WSU is primarily worried about the formalities and bureaucracy of the degree rather then helping people better themselves.

I'm going to try to talk to the dean next and if that doesn't work, I'll just walk. If they don't care about their students enough to be understanding in extenuating circumstances, then I don't want to be under their flag anyways. I'll take my money and dedication elsewhere.

SHADOW

“Men are the dreams of a shadow.”
-Pindar

UNDER THE COUCH

I just did something that I have never done before. It's one in the morning and I was looking for my phone charger in the dark living room. I knew where it was, under the couch. Without a second thought, I reached into the blackness and fished about until I found it.

Beneath the couch... in the pitch black living room... where the deepest shadows reside.

Maybe I'm not making this clear.

I just blindly jammed my meaty mitts under there! This is a place that horror movies use quite often for scenes of terror. Maybe a mutant freak was going to harmlessly watch us sleep but I spooked him into a murderous rage? Possibly a zombie plague infected baboon, loose from a government lab, was taking refuge? What if a flesh eating space slug was lurking below or a satanic clown?

OK, OK. There might have been a fat hairy spider or something. I watch too many movies.

It's still creepy though damn it.

MOVIE REVIEW: RUBBER

Short (Semi Spoiler Free) Verdict
A tire that can blow things up with psychokinesis. See where this is heading? Random. That is the point of this movie all the way through. If you enjoy insanity and odd hijinks, this is your flick.
Movie Stars: ★★★★★


Full Review (SPOILER ALERT)
I take such delight in random because order and the traditional is boring. The director starts by setting the mood of random by explaining that every movie has an element of it. The little speech really got me excited to see what oddities were in store. The plot winds back and forth between you watching the film and then you watching spectators watching the film. It's hard to explain but it's quite entertaining. Most of the "audience" either loses interest or gets killed fairly quickly, poking fun at the fickle nature of the regular movie goer. I love that because every time I go to the theater I am always surrounded by morons. Hell, every where I go I'm surrounded by morons… anyways. It doesn't stop there. This movie takes little clever stabs at bad directors, horror movies, actors and the police, just to name a few. Rubber ingeniously spits in the face of Hollywood at every turn all while watching the shenanigans of a naughty super powered tire.

This movie is freaking awesome. I was super entertained from beginning to end. It's well shot with great lighting, angles and scenery. It's so well done yet it retains that indie film feel. The quirky acting fits perfectly with the erratic experience that the whole story is trying to convey. The soundtrack was perfect as well seeing as it was done by Gaspard Auge of Justice and Mr. Oizo. What a combo! I haven't seen a movie this enthralling and giggle inducing in quite some time. Explosions, chaos, nudity, gore... all sewn together with random. I can die happy now.

Poster Examination
The first is the more themed like your typical horror movie poster. Crisp, clean, muted colors, a little over Photoshopped, but it works. It's a freaking tire, which is way better to look at then let's say… Nicholas Cages ugly mug? The second is pretty much an ode to Boris Vallejo and the font reminds me of the Ninja Turtles. This one is also a win. The third and best of the three, is simple and classic. From a design aspect it's perfectly balanced and the use of color is phenomenal. I love it when posters are kept simple. You don't need everything to be all sparkly and full of over Photoshopped actors. High fives all around Rubber graphics team!
Poster Stars: ★★★★★


Trailer Analysis
The trailer is amazing. It shows focuses you on the oddness of a movie revolving around a killer tire and all the insanity that it must portray. This was more than enough to lure me in. It doesn't give away any of the more intellectual aspects as it pertains to the randomness and subtle humor. Even though you see a lot of the action in the trailer, it doesn't spoil the fun of the movie.
Trailer Stars: ★★★★★


This flick and everything related to it gets buckets of thumbs way up, which is no small feat. I had to cut off a few more from the people under my stairs. I should just stop watching movies now and end on a good note.

BLACK FRIDAY

Black Friday is a day of disgusting consumerism and the glorification of greed. The little guy wastes all of his hard earned money on crap he doesn't need. All that dough just goes right back into fat cat pockets. We are just paying back our bosses all their money. Think about it. If I go buy something I am giving money to the owner of that companies. It might not be my boss specifically but it's someones. At the same time there is someone out there paying my boss otherwise I wouldn't have my current day job. So we are all giving back our money en masse to make sure management stays richer than us. See the cycle? We are losing my friends.

It is just sickening. What is worse is that I, for the first time in my life, partook in Black Friday. I tried to go two hours before midnight on Thanksgiving but the lines were blacks long. I then heard that some people had been camping out for days. Are you serious?! Just to save a few bucks? People are just dying to waste their paychecks and feed the greed machine.

I went back Friday morning to finish up my shopping and still got decent savings. Now I might have gotten lower prices, but at what cost? I helped Best Buy's bank account grow. I bought a TV and a monitor which were both foreign made. So I just robbed America and I blew a portion of my saved greenbacks. I'm not wealthy so I have to take the good deals when I can but I still hate it. I have boycotted Wal-Mart for more than 10 years now but is Best Buy so different? After all, it's still just a greedy corporation.

I guess it's part of being born into capitalism and I should try to accept it. Every time I turn on my big shiny new flat screen I do smile because it's freaking awesome to watch movies and play games in what is almost my own personal theater. Just know that behind that glee is the stinging sensation of guilt and disgust. I realize that I am a whore and I hate it.

ROGER WATERS: THE WALL LIVE

My love for Pink Floyd is no secret and The Wall is their crowning achievement. The movie, the album… epic is just not a grand enough word. I damn near know every lyric and scene by heart.

Last year Roger Waters came through the area with his The Wall Live tour and I missed it. Well he added a few more dates to the list and he's coming through Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Holy monkey poop on a brick, I'm so there.
The only question is, how much do I want to spend on tickets because they are far from cheap.

PORTISHEAD: MACHINE GUN

Bored? Here's what I'm listening to right now. I adore Portishead.

As an added bonus, this is a fan video for Tetsuo: The Iron Man, which I also love. Disturbingly awesome Japanese cyber punk imagery set to industrial style downtempo... hooray!

WANTED: CARS FOR SHOOTS

Attention Wichita peeps!
I'm looking for two cars from the early 70's or earlier. I need two different vehicles for two different shoots. Preferably one being muscle car style or cherry and the other being a family car. The family one doesn't have to be nice and can even be a station wagon like from National Lampoon! I'm pretty open to any car as long as it's before the 80's.
Here are some quick examples:

RIGHTFUL LIBERTY

For my English class on Monday, we were to read three articles, one of which was on racial profiling after 9/11. As you can guess, it was mainly geared towards Arabs and centered around airport security dealings. We, as a class, openly discussed it. Everyone agreed that racial profiling is wrong. No surprise there. The other general consensus was that it's good to have stricter security measures to ensure safety. Everyone seemed to be cool with some people losing civil liberties for the greater good of the many. That's when I started to frown.

The discussion then evolved into security as a nation. Is it OK for the government to tap our phones, scan our emails and have video surveillance watching us at all times? I thought for sure there would be an uproar… but there wasn't. I was the only person, out of sixteen people, who didn't agree with Uncle Sam encroaching on our liberties. The overall mantra for the class was, "If the government wants to watch and listen to me, let 'em. I have nothing to hide." I utterly was shocked and appalled.

Even if you are within legal limits, we can't let our freedoms be stripped from us, no matter how minute, subtle, or under what pretenses. Let's say that laws are changed and something integral to your life that was previously legal becomes a punishable offense. If they already have tabs on you then there will be no escape. If it's a law that you don't approve of and you try to challenge it, they can quell your uprising that much easier.

I'm not some conspiracy theory nut that thinks the machine is after me at all times. But living under marshal law is a scary thought. Yes, that's an exaggeration. The question is, if they keep eroding our rights, where does it stop? Where is the cut off? What right is juicy enough to fight for?

"Rightful liberty is unobstructed action according to our will within limits drawn around us by the equal rights of others. I do not add 'within the limits of the law', because law is often but the tyrant's will, and always so when it violates the rights of the individual."
-Thomas Jefferson

THE BOOGIE MAN

Late one evening when I was eight years old, I had a life changing experience. This is not something I talk about and once you hear the story you will understand why. It sounds completely crazy. Regardless, it still haunts me to this day and I will never forget it.

I had been in bed for a while but I just could not sleep. Detailed and disturbing nightmares were not uncommon, so fighting sleep was routine. To pass the time, I figured that I would get a couple of my toys to play with under the covers. The street lamp not far from my window faintly spilled its light throughout my room and a little past the threshold of my open closet. It was there that I spotted the toys that I wanted to snag, my He-man and Skeletor.

I slipped out of my cozy bed and tiptoed barefoot to my closet. As I was reaching down to pick up my toys, I felt something was wrong. A dread like I had never felt before oozed over my little body. My eyes suspiciously scanned to see what it was. Unfortunately, they found something in the corner of my closet, an unknown dark figure. It was blacker than any other shadow, like a black hole sucking the shreds of light in from the world around it. It was small with shoulders wider than its waist. The thing was humanoid in shape with a round head. From that head peered two faintly glowing red eyes and they were looking right at me.

I stood hunched over, frozen in fear for what seemed like an eternity. I eventually broke myself from my position and cautiously backed away. As I did, those eyes followed me. Then the seriousness of the situation hit me and I really started to shake. After a few steps, I made a mad dash to my bed and hurdled over the foot board. I pulled the blankets over my head and trembled until I passed out. From then on, and even to this very day, my closet remains shut at night and I sleep with a blunt object within arms reach.

I have tried to rationalize it a billion times. Was it an animal? I did have a cat named Conan as a kid but he is not to blame. When I jumped over the end of my bed that night, I woke him up. There is nothing else it could have been. Whatever it was, it was definitely alive. Darkness so incredibly deep that exuded pure fear? I believe what I saw that night was the boogie man.

I am quite aware of how ridiculous this all sounds. But I know what I saw and I can still feel that fear like it happened just yesterday. I am just over thirty years old and I still believe in him. What is worse, my daughter came to me this weekend with that same look in her eyes. She asked if I would come close her closet door because she was afraid of what was inside.

She just turned eight years old. I know it was him.

MY DAUGHTER ALEX IS EIGHT

Today is my daughters eighth birthday! She's damn near a woman. Soon it will be all about boys, trendy clothes and tampons. Oh lawd. I just want to color with my little girl forever. :(

Anyways, I got her a bike, some books and a ton of Legos!

ART CREDITS TRANSFER

I just got the word from the WSU Transfer Committee chairman Robert Bubp, that the art credits I earned in Virginia were accepted by WSU. That is such a relief. I really did not want to sit through Art History again or go through Drawing 101 all over. I'm done sketching fruit, thanks. So I should be able to take the fun classes next semester!

*whew*

Now if I can only get them to accept my general education classes. I had to take English 102 this semester, which I'm fine with… I guess. I have a good teacher and it's nice to get a refresher in structured writing. But it would be asinine if I am required to retake English 101 if I pass 102 in better than good standings.

FISTICUFFS FRIDAY: GHOULIES VS JERSEY SHORE

Here's the way I see it. If my ex thinks it's fine to let our impressionable seven year old daughter watch the soulless, mind numbing and morally devoid television show, Jersey Shore, then I can let her watch a horror movie. Now of course I wouldn't let her watch anything gory or super scary for her first horror flick. Something more like a parody on death and all things macabre would be more appropriate. I think that's much more enriching then watching cretins get tanner, babble nonsense and sleep with everything that has a pulse.

So we (my daughter Alex and I) chose a movie that was less spine tingling and more goofy... Ghoulies. Yes, I know it's a terrible movie, but it has these little "demons" that run around in it and I figured she would love them. Well I was right, she totally thought they were cute. The only part that made her eyes bulge a bit was when the bad guys tongue stretched out of his mouth and strangled someone. But I explained that it was all fake and she was just fine.

This random correlation eventually lead me to wonder who would win in a fight between a Ghoulie and a Jersey Shore jack ass. I randomly picked one of the guys to give the Jersey side a sporting chance. I chose the ass hat with the ass hair because he looks like the biggest turd in the bowl.

Let's get to the side by side comparison! Oh and remember, ties earn zero points.

Specs:	Ghoulie	Jersey Shore	Winner
Appearance:	Shiny green	Shiny bronze	Tie
Hair:	Bald	Over styled douche poof	Ghoulie
Body Type:	1/8th human, goblin-esque	Puffy pseudo-buff	Jersey
Fashion:	Naked! (even though on the poster and box it's wearing suspenders)	Dildo wear	Ghoulie
Weapons:	Sharp claws and teeth, demonic powers	Hair spray and tanning oil	Ghoulie
Intelligence:	Subhuman	Subhuman	Tie
Personality:	Mischievous	Guido (which pretty much means none)	Ghoulie
Society:	Demons, dwarves, wizards and the undead	Overly self centered cretin clones	Ghoulie
Leader:	Usually a black magic wielding sorcerer	MTV	Ghoulie
Tally:	6	1	Ghoulie!

This wasn't even a close match. But then again, did you have any doubts? Unholy midget monsters are simply smarter and far more appealing than any MTV endorsed tard could ever be. What they lack in size, the ghoulies make up for in non-douchery. So the moral of the story is, don't be a douche bag or demonic creatures might maul your face.

STICKER: NO REST FOR THE WICKED

Seven in the morning and darkness still engulfs the city.
A heavy wind with steely, thirty five degree fingers eviscerates the inhabitants.
As I tuck my head in and scurry to the truck, I have a gut feeling.
Check the mail.
To the end of the driveway I race.
Peeling the creaky mailbox door open reveals a fat package.
My face cracks wide with a devious smile letting the cold wind chill my teeth.
I know exactly what the parcel contains...
My new stickers!


I finally stepped up my game and got some custom stickers made with my artwork, not just text.
Want some? They're free!
Just send me your address.
Be sure to take a quick pic of where you stick 'em and I'll post it!

WASHING MACHINE

It's 3:30am when a faint sound creeps into my ears. Being the protector that I am, I listen, trying to decipher where it's coming from and what it might be. The problem is, I'm almost delirious from being so tired and my thoughts are all jumbled. But if I have to know if it's going to be trouble so I focus.

It's repetitive.
It sounds almost mechanical.
There's a bit of a flow to it.
It's coming from the basement.

I finally write it off as the wash cycle of the washing machine. So my head hits the pillow again.


(An undetermined amount of time passes.)


My eyes blast open. "Why in the hell would the washing machine be going at this time of night?!" I say to myself.

So I really start concentrating on the noise. I have to listen first. If it's a dangerous, I want to try and take in as much detail and information as I can before I go leaping into the fray wearing only undies. As I'm intently listening I realize that it's not coming through the floor. It's coming from right next to me! I lower my head in the general direction from which it was coming. That's when I find the source, my infant son Paladin, the little snore demon. He was sleeping on Nicky who was right next to me as usual.

I smile, kiss his soft little forehead and go back to sleep.

HALLOWEEN PICS GALORE

This weekend is Halloween weekend. So for all of you web fiends out there, be prepared for Facebook (and all the other countless ways that everyone overly documents their lives) to be flooded with girls in slut-wear and guys in douche/dork-wear.

I'm totally not complaining though... it's quite entertaining! But I never thought Freddy Krueger, a malevolent, undead, child molesting, murderer, who's horribly burned from head to toe, could ever be turned into something sexy.



I mean damn! I'm sexually confused in so many ways right now.

IF MY BRAIN WERE AN IMAGINARY FRIEND

This is almost exactly how my brain works accept insert a massive amount of fantasizing about beer, butts, punching people, impossible art projects and what would happen right now if "The shit hit the fan."



See the rest at The Oatmeal.

I SEE A GREEN ROOM AND I WANT IT PAINTED WHITE

As some of you know or might have seen in a past post, my new house has a detached shop that I'm converting into a full studio. It has been no quick task. It wasn't messed up but if a photographer wants to be taken seriously and not considered a hack, you need a good looking studio.

So I cleaned it. Then my brother (who's been a major help) and I removed all the random objects, protruding nails and gutted all the shelving and the automatic garage door from the far end where I will be shooting. After that we filled holes, sanded and painted it all.

I'm happy to say that as of this past Sunday, the painting is done. I can now start moving gear in and decorating. Then it's photo project time! I wish I would have done before and after shots but oh well. I did get my brother to snag one shot of me painting the walls with my cell phone. It at least shows the odd green color that it was before... and my terrible farmers tan.


I'll be sure to snap and post photos once it's all said and done.

ALLEN-LAMBE HOUSE

Saturday I went on a tour of the Allen-Lambe house over in the College Hill area of Wichita. Why should you give a rats behind about the Lambe's house? It was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright himself, that's why. If you don't know who Wright was you need to be smacked with a two by four. Anyways...

The layout was in the Midwest's traditional prairie format with Japanese influences. It made me start thinking about how many other homes around town stood on Wright's concept. Even my own home has some of the fundamentals of this place. The brick he used on the outside was used inside so both coexisted in unison. It had great little nooks for art and unique lighting in the form of light diffused by thin mulberry paper lanterns inset into the ceiling. Even a portion of the furniture was designed by Frank. You can see a little bit of the lights and the cool dining room table in this shot:

The house is no longer a residence and is now solely for tours. Unfortunately, you can't just stop in like other historical sites or I would recommend you swing by randomly. But you can call them for times of their next scheduled appointment to tag along. It's definitely worth seeing. Check out their site for more info.

ALFIE

*tee hee*

MSN HIGHSCHOOL SLANDER

As I'm reading about the Occupy Wall Street and all the other protests world wide, I noticed that MSN was sure to talk about some of the protesters ratty clothes and that they could smell marijuana in the air. That is a little petty MSN. Your attempts to subtly discredit these activists with paltry and pathetic references to drugs and what you deem as lesser clothing is just plain childish high-school reporting. We all see your cheap shots to get stuck ups and conservative readers to ignore what is really being protested. Those are not solid facts but jaded descriptions used as slander.

Grow up MSN.

FAST VEGGIES

I just had a random thought when my veggie subs arrived from Jimmy Johns. A pleasant bonus to being an herbivore is that food preparation and delivery times are pretty darn fast. I would imagine that's due to the fact that there aren't any dead animals to slice, cook until it won't induce vomiting and prepared in a non-road kill manner.

If you have to cook something before you can eat it, doesn't that kind of make it unnatural for us to consume in the first place? Hmmm...

Boy that sure looks yummy!

Sorry if that sounded a little pretentious and preachy. I was namely just excited that my food gets delivered so quickly.

FOOD BUYING REQUIREMENTS

Every time I pick up a food product at a grocery store, be it processed or raw, I make it stand up to my edible requirements checklist.

• Are there animal products in it?
• Is it organic?
• Is it natural or a large portion?
• Is it made in the USA?
• Is it locally grown?
• Is it affordable/cost efficient?
• Does it sound yummy?

That might sound pretty picky, painful and expensive but it's really not that bad. I don't always strictly adhere to this list either with every bit of food I consume, save for the animals products bit. That's my personal educated choice to be a veggiesaurus. But other than that, the rest should be standards that we all look for.

We are what we eat so why not take time to choose wisely. We are no long hunters or gatherers but solely consumers. If that's our only role in life then why not consume smartly? Organics are better for the environment. Naturals are healthier for our bodies. Made in the USA supports our countries economy. Locally harvested supports your city, small businesses and your neighborhood farmer. To me, once you weigh all the upsides it almost seems like no choice at all.

We have the choice to pick things that are better for our world and bodies yet we chose substandard items to save a couple cents. We have the power of our dollar and the corporations are after it. So if we demand higher standards they will have to submit or lose money. Don't be lazy, read those labels.

"We must be the change we want to see in the world."
-Mahatma Gandhi

WICHITA, THIS WILL BE THE YEAR

This past week I've gone from doing nothing creative to getting projects going all over the place. I've been spreading the word and doing mad planning. There are two projects in particular that have the potential to help me finally get lastdeviant on the lips of the Wichita art community. One is for the hip hop music scene and the other is for an art magazine. Each is still pretty grassroots but they are extremely promising. I've got lots of shoots lined up for both and each will get me some new exposure I would have never found before. I'll be sure to rep them both once they each give me the go ahead.

With the completion of the home studio, the new connections and all this hype, I think this is going to be my introductory year here. I might be jinxing it by talking about it but I don't care, I'm freaking excited! I'm ready to dive in and help this art scene grow and in it will help me grow as well. So keep your eyes peeled. I've got a site revamp coming in the next week and of course there will be lots of new bits of eye candy.

Wichita... let's do this.

THUMB JUMP FLASH USB DRIVE

I went to help out a new friend from class, Ryan Gould, with a photo shoot this weekend. Afterward, he put all the images up for everyone to review. Once we all talked about them, the model asked about when she would get her copies. He told her that she could have them all right now if she had a flash drive. Funny thing was, she just so happened to find one in her purse.

I guess they have gotten so common place that everyone has one now. I know all the college classes I have been too in Virginia and Kansas have suggested and sometimes required for students to get one. I personally own like eight of them. I remember there was a time not so long ago when ever I pulled a jump drive out of my pocket, I looked like a complete nerd. Or if I had to explain what it was, people just gave me the deer in headlights look.

Now chicks keep them in their purses. That's so rad.

PALADIN: PAL-UH-DIN

When Nicky and I were deciding on our sons name, we knew if when we chose Paladin that people would think it was a little odd and unconventional, which we liked. We also figured that some people might have trouble pronouncing it. Personally, I can't even fathom saying it any other way than how it is meant to be. But then again I knew what a paladin was way back from my childhood. See, I actually enjoy reading, unlike most Americans these days. So just to clarify, his name is not pronounced pal-lay-din or pal-uh-dine, it's Pal-uh-din.

Anyways, paladins are the greatest of all knights. The title originally came from Charlemagne's (if you don't know who he is, crack a history book and look up Europe) twelve greatest knights which were the first and most famous of these noble warriors. But this was actually the lessor reason why I dug this for a name.

The number one basis for naming out son Paladin was due to the lead character on the 50's western TV show, Have Gun Will Travel. Nicky and I absolutely love that show and the lead, played by Richard Boone, was just too freaking rad. Intelligence was his greatest weapon. He could sling a pistol like no other but knew that violence was only needed if all else failed. He had style, morals and sophistication but was rough, rugged and tough as nails. I could go on but I think you get the picture.

With epic defining qualities like bad ass knights, a man's man gunslinger and sheer uniqueness, how could I not chose Paladin as a name for my son? It already sounds awesome like a rock star, artist or even a president's name?



So remember... it's PAL as in he's your friend and mine, UH as in the sound that most people utter when I ask them who Charlemagne was or about Have Gun Will Travel, and DIN as in the den of house or dinner.

SPARKLE MOTION

As I sat in the stands, watching my daughter Alex cheer at football game last weekend, I got to do a decent amount of people watching. One thing I always take notice of is fashion and trends. I you're thinking that's girlie or gay, bite me. I like ripping on or applauding what people wear, even if I wear some weird stuff myself.

The style that was pretty overwhelming was the amount of ornate shiny crosses and fleur de lis' adorned with rhinestones. On purses, jeans, hats and tons of shirts... they were plastered from head to toe! Its not just girls that want to shimmer but dudes as well. Sparkly jeans with glittery shirts and gaudy graphics. Rhinestone dildos as far as the eye can see. It's terrible. I don't see it much on campus though so it must be mainly for aging hipsters desperately trying to look cool.

My bet is that Twilight is to blame. Everyone wants to be an emo, sparkly, ass-clown, vampire. Bad hair included.

ROBOTS: OUR FUTURISTIC FRIENDS

Baby animals hued in blues for boys and pinks for girls seems to be the norm for infant room decorating. When choosing the theme for my soon-to-be-born son's room, I wanted to stray as far from that as possible. Luckily, I was able to talk Nicky into going with a different type of concept.

Robots!

Nicky vetoed the giant Optimus Prime fighting Megatron battle scene that I wanted to paint on his wall. Psh, I wish. I did did get her to agree to letting me put a big, kid-friendly, robot illustration up. I always thought the cutest and happiest (if robots can even look cheery) artificial beings were the old 50's tin toy robots like Robert the Robot. They kind of feel like baby blocks stuck together anyways. I also like the old propaghanda posters that told everyone what a happy family was "supposed" to be. So I decided to do an illustration based on those two concepts, all in hues of red. Here's what I came up with:


That's all fine and dandy for an infant but you know I couldn't stop there. I wanted to make something slightly more edgy for my own artistic endeavors. Check out the second version for ole daddy-o:


It was fun making these too and getting back into being actually creative. I haven't created any new illustrations in over a year, at least. Anyways, I'll be sure to post pics of the boy's room once it's complete. I guess I can toss a couple pics of his alien looking butt up too once he comes crawling out.

WEEDS

I absolutely love my new house. It has an amazing amount of land and yet it's fairly close to downtown. In fact, it has roughly 20,000 square feet of land which is just under half an acre, give or take. As awesome as all that space is for growing food, hosting parties and running around like a moron, that amount territory comes at a price. Some poor sap has to maintain it all.

The previous owner, rest her soul, had poor health during the last few years of her life. Hence, the back yard that she used to love and keep in pristine order with a full veggie and flower garden has since turned into a massive weed farm. I'm not using the word massive just to describe the quantity of bastard plants that have taken root, but their height as well. These bad boys are huge.

Once I've yanked, machete slashed and weed whacked them all, I'll have a handle on the yard. But boy, what a chore the initial eradication is. I now know why the previous owners husband ran a lawn mower blade business out of this place. He probably spent most of his time slaving away at that yard.

DEAD BOSSES

Just imagine if the structure of society were to crumble. Our world slips into a lawless state where everyone could do as they please. It would be interesting to see who survives and thrives during and after the fall. People in certain job titles, professions or trades would start becoming quite handy to have around. Hunters, engineers and even hippies that live off the land would be very useful companions. But regardless of how awesome their skill set might be, I know one class of people that would almost certainly be ripped to shreds right off the bat. The bosses across the world.

My immediate manager is cool by me, so this is not directed towards my current day job... per say. This is just about the "ruling class" as a whole. Unless you were a cool boss and loved by your underlings, you are probably going to die. So much animosity is built up during our day to day lives towards the dicks that reign over us. They only get away with it because we are all slaves in a money driven world. We need cash for our lives, liberty and our pursuit of happiness. Plus it is against the law and considered "morally wrong" to strangle management in their offices with a mouse cord. That is why they can demean us and get away with it.

If the norms, control and values ever disintegrate... it is on. That overbearing prick that belittles you day in and day out is toast. If you have to fight to survive, why would you risk your neck for some asshole who makes everyone miserable? It might be smart to keep a head honcho around that posses any actual skills to learn from, at least for a little while. Once that special ability becomes common knowledge in their survival group, they can then be officially offed. That special administrator will be found dead one morning in their sleeping bag. The group will know someone did it with a can of beans made into a shiv but they will all outwardly agree that it must have been a wild boar.

The moral of the story is, if you are in any position where you have even the slightest bit of authority, think about what would happen to you if the lights went out forever. Then make up your mind if you really want to browbeat your minions. In fact, bring in cookies tomorrow and I suggest you go hand out high fives to the entire office, right now.

HOWARD THE DUCK

I couldn't decide on anything new to watch, so I gave old Howard the Duck a whirl last night on Netflix. I probably haven't seen that since it came out back in 1986. It has always stayed in the fond childhood movie memories section… until last night.

This movie really isn't very good. Poor acting, stupid jokes… lameness all around. I tried to like it because I'm a sucker for odd and random. But George Lucas really didn't know where to take this movie. It was dumbed down and humored like a kids flick but it had some odd adult themes and scenes. Take for instance when Howard is being pulled to our plant. He crashes through the apartment of a topless duck girl. Feathered boobies with human-esque nipples is a little bit disturbing. Another squirm inducing scene is the one where Lea Thompson is "semi-jokingly" trying to seduce Howard. It's great getting to see Lea in panties but not while she's rubbing on a talking bird. Throughout the rest of the flick, the two make dating innuendos back and forth. So what happens after it's all said and done? If you finished the movie you'd find out that Howard ends up sating on our planet. Sorry for the ending spoiler but you're not missing much if you missed this movie. My question is, do they hook up? Does he use the duck condom that she found in his wallet? George, your bestiality fetish is starting to show.

Anyways, Howard the Duck fails but I still have a crush on Lea Thompson.

The end

WSU: DAY ONE

I feel old and out of place. Why? I went through my first day back at college on Monday.

See, I was attending Tidewater Community College back in Virginia Beach a few years ago. That entailed a lot of night classes with little to no drama or bullshit. This time it's in Kansas at WSU, a much bigger state university. Aside from feeling like a little fish, it's mainly geared towards post high school youngin's. That means I have to take a lot of day classes and it sucks for the working class stiff. Another sour note is that I have to retake some of the bullshit intro courses again because my credits wouldn't transfer. Hooray for wasted time and money. So most of my time there is spent sitting through boring stuff that I already know about, next to immature dill holes that are fresh off the yellow bus.

I've done the full time job and full class load before back in my TCC days. It wasn't a big deal when I was a single, swinging, mid-twenties, squid. I know that's not a very long time ago, but it sure feels like it. I'm in my early thirties now and my responsibilities and priorities have changed. House, family and a job that I can now lose… all grown up stuff. That also means my weekdays and free time are toast.

When I was in the military it didn't seem so bad. Anything that got me out of that uniform and the cogs of the machine was good by me. But now that I'm free from Uncle Sam's pocket, it's a whole new poop filled equation. Trying to maintain my freedom and sanity while balancing everything else is taxing. I know it's something that everyone deals with and that I'm not unique. I just feel like I'm losing touch with my artistic side. I think that mainly stems from not having clients, friends or an artistic reputation here in Kansas. I just haven't had time to tackle it with all the drama my ex put me through and the other speed bumps I've hit since I've been here in the Midwest. I... uh... wait... I'm rambling and making excuses.

Blah, blah, blah. I'm decaying one day at a time just like everyone else and I'm just bitching about it.



I do sometimes dream about putting this city and all the normalcy and monotonous life that goes with it in my rear view mirror. But that's simply a passing thought that I could never honestly entertain. I adore my family and loved ones too much. It would just be nice to become totally free and disconnected. To dip yourself into the "civilized" normal world only when you felt like it, not because you were born into it. But that's another rant...

FISTICUFFS FRIDAY: OOMPA LOOMPAS VS MUNCHKINS

A weekly post put out in a timely fashion can be hard for me. I like being able to post whatever I want, when ever I want, rather then having to adhere to a strict time frame. Not to mention I forget things easily and I can be a little flighty on occasion. Thus, Random Object Thursday kind of disappeared if you hadn't noticed. But I like the concept of having something always there on specific days to show consistency. That being said, I will bring back ROT, just sporadically.

But ROT isn't why I'm writing this. When I was first brainstorming ROT, I also thought it would be cool to make Fisticuffs Friday and showcase an interesting battle between to random opponents. Yet again, I hate schedules and I don't have the time, patience, revenue or reader demand to put so much effort into this here blog. So I'll just make Fisticuffs Friday sporadic as well.

Now on with the fight!

As I was taking a poo at work the other day, I thought it would be awesome to have Oompa Loompas from Willy Wonka come out of the walls to tend to my bathroom needs. I don't have some midget fetish or desire to enslave all dwarfs, I just think it would be neat. But as cool as having short orange bathroom attendants might be, I thought their little songs might get annoying over time. Which lured my mind to another famous group of little people that annoyingly sang their faces off, The Munchkins from The Wizard of Oz. Then I began to imagine a full on war between the two tiny terrors. All of this while I sat upon a porcelain throne at work.

Yes, I'm odd. Now let's get to a side by side comparison of their stats.

Specs:	Oompa Loompa	Munchkin	Winner
Appearance:	Orange skin	Flesh tone skin	Oompa
Hair:	Curly green girl	Crazy Flock of Seagulls Style	Munchkin
Body:	Dwarf	Dwarf	Tie!
Outfit:	White jump suit with striped socks	White collared plaid suits with striped socks	Oompa
Weapons:	Tools and odd candy gadgets	Standard societal objects including what looked like rifles	Munchkin
Songs:	Witty, snarky and educative	Full of glee but obsessed with guilds	Oompa
Personality:	Hard working and regimented	Some bureaucratically inclined but most just frolic	Oompa
Society:	Drones and workers	Diverse	Munchkin
Leader:	Willy Wonka the insane candy man	Glinda the good witch	Oompa
Tally:	6	4	Oompa!

Both parties are pretty well matched. The differences lie in their social aspects the most. But even though the Munkins have what looked like a militia in one of their parades, their guns must be ceremonial only. Flying monkeys are scary but guns would totally prevail. And so their militia is ruled out. They just seem far too nice and would be easy push overs. Oompas, on the other hand, are beefy little docker workers that are very regimented. Those traits would make them excellent soldiers and formidable combatants. Then when you factor in that their leader Wonka is certifiable, it's no comparison. Glinda was a wuss.

So after a very close battle and much to my delight, the Oompa Loompas prevail in one on one combat or full out open warfare.

ACHY BREAKY HEART

I woke up this morning with something that no medical doctor can treat yet. This ailment was probably one of the most painful things to have happened to me in months. As I slowly slipped back into consciousness I became aware of this terrible pain in my brain. In deafening volume was the horrible country song Achy Breaky Heart, stuck on repeat.

Oh the agony! The horror!

Odd thing is, I haven't heard that pitiful excuse for a song in probably fifteen years. Somehow that offensive memory slipped out of it's sealed iron box. It seems that I need a better security protocol in the old noggin because that completely ruined my morning.

Oh lawd no... writing about it released it again. No... NO!

Someone shoot me.

WINE IS AWESOME

This weekend I took five bottles of assorted wines over to my brothers house for a six person dinner. I took mead, sweet elderberry, Californian Pinot Noir, chocolate wine and a bottle of alcohol removed for the Nicky. Adam brought a boxed wine and beer and we polished them all off save for one bottle of elderberry. Man I missed wine.

Vino hasn't touched my lips since my last outing with my best friend Jessica in Virginia. She was my premier wine drinking buddy and wine always makes me think of her and my other best friend Rick. He, on the other hand, was always down for some wine but didn't really care about where it came from or for the snooty aspect of it all. But that gave me an idea. This weekends fun and the longing to drink with my far away friends combined with my own do it yourself attitude made me decide that I want to try and make my own wine. I have quite a few well established vines in my new back yard so I figured why not give it a shot. So if it all turns our right, I can seal up a few bottles and send them to my homies for an over the phone toast... or something like that.

I want to do some test runs and perfect the process before I try it on my own grapes next season. So Sunday I bought a bunch of black grapes and sugar. This week sometime I'll snag the yeast and the basic equipment. I'll be sure to catalog all my findings and process every step of the way just in case any of you readers want to ever try it. So stay tuned for my wine adventures!

WICHITA STATE UNIVERSITY MASCOT

For the past couple of days at my job, I've been working with product photography with team logos from all of the major colleges across the country. It's kind of interesting seeing what universities have for their mascots. It makes me curious as to why some of them chose what they did.

Then I started thinking about Wichita State University's mascot, the college I will be attending for the first time this fall. Their mascot is the WuShock, a muscly bundle of wheat. WSU's site says his name is divided into two parts. One from when the college was simply titled Wichita University, or WU for short. The second being that most players earned extra money harvesting or "shocking" wheat in their spare time.

Isn't that just farm-tastic.

I'm super stoked to go to WSU and all but a pile of dead grass isn't exactly menacing, let alone cool. Couldn't they have picked something real that was rooted in Wichita's history like cowboys, Indians or bison? Hell, I'd be down with a locust or some other farm pest. Back in Virginia, Richmond University gets to be the spider. That's the coolest mascot ever! The only thing cooler than that would be a ninja but I don't think there were any of those in Wichita until I came along.

Oh well. I suppose I can get behind the idea of being a shocker. Better than the Wichita pink elves or something worse.

WARRIOR DASH 2011

Richard, Jennifer, Nicky and I all climbed into the Aveo Sunday morning from our hotel in Kansas City. The weather was hot, landing just under the one hundred degree mark. We traversed the countryside looking for our destination, bristling with excitement. Then we came upon a clearing with tents, a stage blasting classic rock and thousands of people wandering about. Some had face paint, others were in costume but most were simply sporting athletic wear like Richard and I. So as the girls parked the car, us two blokes tightened our laces and slung our pride over our shoulders as we entered the gate that read… Warrior Dash.

This was an awesome event! I have never seen so many people excited to get their asses kicked in the heat just for a fuzzy helmet, cheap viking medallion, commemorative t-shirt and a free beer. Then again, they had me at the free beer. I had expected it to be filled with macho meat-headed guys all grunting and chest bumping. But to all of our surprise, there were probably more chicks than dudes. It was nice to see an array of people from young to old and from fit to fat. I have a lot of respect for those bigger peeps that kept on trucking' though it all. On a side note, I have to mention the inordinately high amount of male and female eye candy. Muscle men and athletic women in tight cloths all covered in mud as far as the eye could see. It was quite a sight to behold and we all drooled accordingly.

Nicky and Jen waited in the smoldering heat for us in what little shade there was to be found as my brother and I ran our races. Yep, Nicky in all her pregnant glory sweated rivers just to support her man. How's that for love. Richard went first and pushed himself pretty hard. I didn't quite push as hard as he did. He's in a lot better shape and I knew there was no way I would win against him let alone the scores of gym rats out there. I just wanted to have fun with it. But Richard actually placed 144th out of like 4,700 people! Pretty dope.

The obstacles were easy but the course itself is what made it hard. The terrain was far more rough, muddy and steep than either of us had prepared for. It wailed on us pretty good. But next year we will dominate on our 2011 times. To make next years event even more rad, Nicky and Jen are running with us. Get some.

NEW HOUSE PREP

I haven't posted much this week due to the new house. I know it's not very exciting but I guess I'll give a run down of how it's coming along.

Tuesday:

We received the keys. There were a butt-ton as each door (front top/bottom, back top/bottom, garage, studio and gate) all have their own keys and there were lots of duplicates. Borrowed my mother's vacuum so Nicky swept the carpets. Rented a rug doctor so I cleaned all the carpets.

Wednesday:

Nicky painters taped off the babies room and started primering the edging after I pulled the doors off and plastic covered the floor. I started cleaning out the studio of all the wood and shop scraps from the previous owner. I straightened up the garage, removed this old ugly wall fan from the kitchen and got replacement tile for the few broken ones downstairs.

Thursday:

Nicky went with sister-in-law Jennifer to go primer the rest of the babies room. I stayed at the old place and continued to pack with random breaks to play Call of Duty.

That's it for now! We'll probably do more packing tonight but we aren't doing any moving until next week. I have Warrior Dash on Sunday and I don't want to randomly screw myself up moving a bunch of heavy crap. It may seem lame but you would do the same thing if you had been preparing for this run as long as I have. Plus we have until the 12th to get out of our old pad.

1316 N. ST. PAUL

At 2:00 p.m. the final papers will be signed, money will be transferred, hands will be shook and keys will be dished out. Today is the day we close on the house. So as of two o' clock on this fine day, I will officially be a homeowner. Wow... guess I'm kind of an adult now.

FIGHTING GAME MOVIES

I like video games. They let me escape into other realities and loose my frustrations in a healthy way. Sometimes there's a decent amount of cussing involved... but still. One decidedly nice venue for anger management is the fighter genre. Nothing makes a person feel better like smashing an opponents face or filleting them with a weapon. So when I put countless hours of ass whipping into a game, I start to grow fond of the characters and their franchise. So when a movie comes out under the banner of a revered fighting game that I have poured my heart into, I can't help but get a little excited. The problem is they all suck. This tends to be the case with most video game movies but especially for the fighting class. The Street Fighter's, Mortal Kombat's, Dead or Alive, Double Dragon and the movie that I just watched that spawned this rant, Tekken. They were all terrible. Anyone that tells you otherwise has no taste in movies or is so in love with that particular brand that they forgave far too much.

Why is it so hard to make a decent fighting game to silver screen adaptation?! Get real martial artists, quality choreographers, a semi-reputable writer/director combo and your in. I just got done watching the first two Ip Man's and they were freaking amazing. Just do what they did but with fairly recognizable costumes and the appropriate names. Don't stick people that can't brawl in a fighters role, damn it! It's painfully obvious when you have to use a plethora of cut scenes to make it look like an intense battle due to your actors overwhelming wuss factor. While I'm at it, let me run through some suggestions to make a good fighting game movie.

• Use actual fighters, martial artists or people with combat training.
• Insert a ton of fight sequences and keep the drama to a minimum.
• Don't stuff bimbos with big tits in the flick to appease moronic men because we aren't buying that they have any real skills other than the kind on a pole.
• Cut scenes are the lame way to fake a fight.
• Real warriors don't fight in stipper heels and big plastic outfits with dumb protrusions. Spruce them up but don't lose focus of their practicality and actual use.
• It's not necessary to say the characters names over and over again. We're smart enough to catch little hints like wanted posters, military name tags and subtle name drops. Hell... don't even tell us them all and let the fans figure it out.
• Flirting isn't needed among combatants. They are there to annihilate the competition, not hump them.
• Keep the talking to a minimum. Anyone who has actually trained for years to fight ninjas in real life probably can't act that well. Write and direct accordingly.
• Overuse of computer graphics makes anything cheesy and we are already battling the nerdy game stigma. Use real places like dojo's, abandoned warehouses and roof tops. You can always "Finish Them!" by uppercutting the loser off of a forty story building.
• Recognizable actors are only needed if they can actually throw down. And guys like Van Damme and Lambert, as much as I love them, usually make it corny even if they do have some training.

Just once I would like to see a seamless blend of a stellar kung-fu flick and one of my favorite fighting games. How bad ass would it be if Tony Jaa played Liu Kang or Ray Park rocked Guile? I would kill for a quality adaptation of Eternal Champions but I'd rather go without then get another Mortal Kombat: Annihilation quality movie. I mean just look at this. Terrible.

CHEVY AVEO

As some people already know, Nicky has an orange colored Chevy Aveo. Hence, you've probably seen me driving or riding in it as well. If you're not familiar with this particular car, it's because it's a deceptive little turd and not something normal people would typically ever consider buying. It poses as an "eco" car due to it's size and shape. Unfortunately it's not really that great on gas mileage at lower 30's. That's not bad but it's not really an advantage either. At least if you drive one of those tiny cars that really are eco friendly you have the satisfaction of saving money and the planet.

The Aveo's deception doesn't stop there. It may sport the Chevrolet brand but it's actually a Korean made Daewoo. It's the America sold version of the Suzuki Swift, making it's parts fairly pricey. Nicky has had it for about 7 years and it has been falling apart from day one. This thing is so lame that even Haynes and Chiltons, the two biggest auto repair manual companies known to man, don't even make repair guides for it.

Lastly, it's just so unmasculine. You might think that it's a perfect fit for a girl but Nicky doesn't really like it either. She would much rather have a beefy classic muscle car. The only bit of good that I can boast about this little rolling orange nugget is that it's surprisingly roomy and the hatchback is quite handy. Big deal. You can get that with a billion other cars.

I just felt like bitching about that damn car. I can't wait until we pay it off and we have the option of selling it for something better for the earth or with a little bigger balls.