Leon Sidewinder

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In my room I crucified a monkey. He wears old-school night vision goggles, they are tinted green. I hide my money in a resealable bag. That bag is then placed up my crucified monkey's arse. That same monkey has been having one insane dead-heat staring contest with a one-eyed John Wayne for the past few weeks now. It's really difficult to comfortably rest. I hear them stare at each other. SHUT UP ALREADY!!

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The day's almost done. It was a pay day and if you just so happen to be me (sucks to be you) that usually means but one thing. Get my 1/4 black-ass to the not-so-local comic shop before I gotta be at work by 5. And that is precisely what I did today. First thing I picked-up and didn't let go was HEAVY LIQUID by one Paul Pope. Buddy of mine told me it was once compared to an album by some band I don't know. Anyways. Then I swung over to the "new release" section; "Crap, crap, mega-crap ... hey isn't that Youngblood?" Then I happen upon JENNIE ONE by this Brian Wood of CHANNEL ZERO fame (my next READ). I'm done. Then I become me-at-work and go through the motions until now. Now I am tired.

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Read: Preacher.

Listen to: Ennio Moriconne.

Watch: 200 Cigarettes.

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You'll be able to buy it at your local pet shop for $65 in ten years.

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One morning last Octobre I found myself in the kitchen pouring organic cereal into a bowl when who comes stumbling in like he went two rounds too many with Butterbean? Mine-moo, my cat. He apparently got knocked hard against the temple by a blunt object which caused him to scratch his bloody wound. After a quick Vet visit he went from independant kitty to a great looking phonograph for the house. Three long months of whining and wailing later he took his long-awaited first steps outdoors today. He didn't seem sure if it was for real (I offered him some cat-nip). Now he wants to come in and leave almost simultaneously.

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Having worked in video stores for a year and a half helped me discover such gems as "Dr. Strangelove" and "Happy Campers" along with directors such as Stephen Frears and Richard Linklater. But honnestly, how many times does a body have to instruct a dumb-as-shit client where to return their rented copies of "Juwanna Mann" and "Butt Bang-o-rama vol. 8". There's even a 3-D arrow that has "S.V.P/please" printed in bold black on the counter pointing ... anyways. What I'm trying to get at is. Fuck this! I'm headed to hang with my Chinese half-brother in Taiwan to teach english for cash only to come back, one year later and open my very own Comic Shop. This is when you think:"Geek." Right? Well fuck yourself gently with a chainsaw. Creatively speaking, comix are presently in their renaissance, it's the IN thing this season. I'll refer you to artbomb.net, a great little diddy courtesy of Warren (Transmetropolitan) Ellis. Check it out. I figure, if I have to work and make money, I might as well A: be my own boss, and B: sell something I know and am truly interested in. A + B = Comix! I figure this would make life for me just a little less shitty if that's what I had to do day in and day out. I'm psyched!!

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Read: David Boring.

Listen to: Camera Obscura.

Watch: Fubar.

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Bush gave quite a moving SotU speech. I was nearly brought to tears when I couldn't help punching my self in the balls from fear of losing grasp on reality.

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