Thursday, September 28, 2017

Yes, But Could Herb Caen Do Beautiful JPEGs?

The hot spot, ya dig?

Blueprints for a two-bedroom house, courtesy of Robert McGraw (RIP), as a possible floorplan for whatever replaces the current hovel - more on that from my younger brother...

Is it rambutan season already? (And don't eat the seeds, pendejo!)

Agapanthus foliage, for random soothingness...


Necesito una de esas bicicletas de ONE-SPEED de $100 Walmart está vendiendo! Jajaja!


Hugh Hefner, passed beyond the veil to the other side of a better place called a euphemism for HE DEAD, BITCHES at 91 godforsaken years old.

Bless your stinky little heart, mummy man of tittyland

Hey, Madison Avenue! I love this for a pitch for a 20-second spot

[BG MUSIC: Everly Brothers]

[JUMPY, ACTION-PACKED: High-speed hovercraft chase through the bayou - law enforcement in hot pursuit of a dapper, 30-ish man. 

[CUT TO: THE SUN IS EARLY AFTERNOON, BUT IT IS STILL AND TENSE: Adrienne Barbeau on a dock; she needs something, and is looking at her watch.]

[CUT BACK: Young man achieves his goal and delivers the goods; law enforcement gets a look at the meeting as they come up hot on his six, and thinks better of finishing their collar... Back to Ms. Barbeau, who looks visibly relieved; whatever it was she needed, whatever it was the young man risked so much to bring, is the product; cut to graphics - EN FIN]

Courtesy of the good folks at Newsweek: The people of Puerto Rico need the following: potable water, pharmaceuticals, diesel, toiletries, and more. Send help!


On the sidebar, please note I am running a Gofundme campaign and have a Venmo account, should any donations be forthcoming... Thanks!

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

I Don't Speak German But I Can If You Want...

Je désire: Carina Bengs' "Ingatorp" dining table she crafted for IKEA. Oh, for $350! It would be a real decorating coup in my current (or future) living situation's dining room.


J'adore: KFC's Nashville Hot anything. So fucked up, so rica, so spicy! I actually poured the excess sauce onto my tenders and ate it the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks up... Can't really consume their horrid fare more than once a year, but dang, that may change with this new flavor...

(Especially since, with my receipt, I can do their little song-and-dance online, write down the promo code, and, AT THE SAME STORE, be guaranteed a free To-Go cup full of wedges and popcorn chicken or somesuch - AS LONG AS I PURCHASE A DRINK.)


It seems like just yesterday I was barely educating myself on the super-serious topic of the Sites Reservoir project. Sorry, Muirians, I'm terrible, and terribly in favor of perhaps a low-budget version of it. And as far as I know, they're still in the feasability-study stage of the project. My question: the August 14th deadline to apply for the bond money has come and gone -- is everything still on track? Finding news online isn't easy...


Wow, has it been a weird Summer or what? Indian and Bear valleys in particular still want to be everyone in Oakley's best kept secret, but in this day of the Internet, and DEA and cartel employees ridesharing on single-prop planes to the Willows airport, right over my little, stoned noggin? Doubtful!

For me, the strangest has been how busy air traffic has been. Yes, the aforementioned flights reminiscent of BLOW, and passenger jets at 30,000 (not to mention well-wished dust-offs out of Beale or Vandenberg, as well as Mr. Tall Blond Hot Stuff with the right stuff airman who flies the sky wagon for - god bless our first responders indeed!) But I've especially noticed TONS of drones: private playthings, Google Earth and Street-view cheaters, VR mappers, special needs telepresence, local law enforcement surveillance, and other such Unidentifiable Flying You-Know-Whats...

And all that congestion in the skies has seemed to have had a damping effect on tourist traffic to East Park Reservoir, if I may be so bold, or seemingly unkind or unthoughtful or ungrateful - really cramping partygoers' style.


Much thanks to a (the?) "Star Trek: Original Series" group on Facebook for accepting my application to join. I was on tenterhooks for a bit there, not knowing what admins would think of my citing my favorite episode as "The Trouble with Tribbles." Of the two titles I remembered on the spot (God, now I know what if feels like to interview for a co-op in Hell's Kitchen!), it was the less lame: Damn you Edith Keeler, for making a laughing stock of James T. Kirk! But I digress...

It all comes down to the Enterprise's failing to deploy Yeoman Janice Rand in time to deal with Harry Mudd - she alone I know would have stopped Mudd's nonsense right quick; leave the Klingon menace to the rest of the crew! But she melodramatically was insulated from the Mudd problem - such a quintessential ST episode!

And as we all know, Janice went on to her post as a transporter room operator... Until that horrifying, fateful malfunction prior to the V'jer mission - a malfunction resulting in screaming, half-materialized goo on the platform who in turn Rand screaming to drink her life away in the Spacedock bar.

(Which, by the way - truthesque factoid and canonical - is why Federation scientists invented synthohol - Rand was constantly pestering Starfleet medical for liver regeneration.)

Worst job one could ever have in the 23rd century, it turns out, is to be a transporter room operator or transporter chief.


Oh, Frank Miller, you kidder, on Artemisia (gamely played by unflappable - seriously, UNFLAPPABLE - Eva Green), the antihistorical, fancy, Greek-born slavegirl who, chinchilla-like, rose through the ranks of the great hen house known as the Persian navy...

"Wisdom, Artemisia!" Golly, your majesty, you might have started by trying to counsel the damn dame to prudence... Just a thought.


And screw SOUTH PACIFIC: I'm never gonna wash THAT man (Mikey!) right outta MY hair!


Speaking of veterans, I must end this column on a somber note: some ugly statistics are coming out of the VA (and I consider them in light of the recent incident at San Francisco's Crown Hotel, where 55 units are reserved for homeless veterans - an incident which thank the gods ended without a loss of life), and they include the following: women veterans commit suicide at a rate of 250% that of their counterparts among the men.

Truly sobering, truly harrowing.


Once more, into the breach, chamber loaded... This will be the third time I send correspondence to the Marine Locator:

HQ, US Marine Corps
QUANTICO VA 22134-5030

(On a serious note first: normally this works very well; it tends to be that someone is all to happy to get in touch with you, too, and it's a beautiful thing when friends can locate each other... And, once again, the green can be there for civilians como yo...)

But I hate that questions are so often hilarious jokes to many in the Corps: "Hur, hur, mang, why the hell would you want to find a Marine you done already excaped? Hur, hur, hur." Shut up, dink.

Because I've already told all my other lovers who are dead that I have The Syphilis. Now I tell him.

No, it's for personal reasons, seeing as I have no professional business, knowhatimean, Lance Corporal?

I'm getting married whether consensus knows what's better for me and can effect it or not.

(All my postcards since the initial letter are Matsue "omiyage" postcards... The second one goes to Virginia - WHO DARE! Virginia is for lovers - today....)


UPDATE: Okay, there's actually no such person.

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

This Time It's Personal With A Side of Extreme Prejudice Served Up With For Real Sauce!

The loss of Puerto Rican crops this year is a harsh reminder of a history lesson I remember from going to school in Japan: Rice *is* LIFE! Do please find your favorite Puerto Rico relief effort, and donate what you can! (I know this might distract from my own personal blegs, as not only do I have the Way family's housing issues to consider - my own part in them - I am currently broke and wouldn't mind a little sum'n-sum'n ticked my way on to user William-Way-5. But this first paragraph's for the people put out this hurricane season....)

こめ - "ko-meh" - 米rice


Note to Mrs. Chris Isaak of the Outer Sunset (Bai Ling, or 白靈): On-trend on the W. Coast FOR HER include silk, skinny denim, light statement jackets, nautical themes, athletica, (for our people) leatherette accessories, and bold patterns.

Dressing the Mister? Slim button-ups (short-sleeve and with a factotum tie is tres happening), light statement jackets (maybe denim or a varsity starter for a young look), dark slim denim (my Han-Yi brand jeans pictured below give you an idea of hue, but I'm 40-somethingay and go for skinny rather than slim), again with the bold patterns, early 2000s dot-com era backpacks and shoulder bags, and again with the nautical themes (keep those docksiders!) All advice courtesy of the bold young men and women who sacrifice so much for their country... AT CROSSROADS TRADING CO., OF COURSE!

Hot Fashion! You are fashion and style!


(@ #USMC #Mikey): It's been a while since I sent first a letter, then a postcard, to the good people at Quantico; I've heard neither from them (which I would have), nor from you, young Mikey - you should know multiple ways of contacting me by now... But it doesn't mean of course what I'm supposed to think it means; some people really are stupid in their malice - it's a good thing you enlisted and saved their lives thereby. Without both your risk-taking and especially my own, truly volunteered, life-long civilian help, they would have drowned in the fucking rain by now, they're so damn dumb...

But enough about poisonous people and the shit they do to us... I long to live with you, and you can do my pedicures, and I'll squeeze the blackheads on your back; I'll cook good food, and you and your boys can watch those stupid movies and play video games... I want us to run away together to Alameda, or San Diego...

...Or have you taken your papers and walked? I still and will always want you... Find me, and let's work it out!


I would love for the situation centered around ALL-TOO-CLOSE-IN-PROXIMITY neighbors to be cute as some rom-com starring Johnny Depp and Mary Stuart Masterson, but it's not. These folks are, like, totally "Yikes! Zoinks! Jinkies!" Heebie-jeebies all around, with really offensive hijinks to boot. (Eso es lo que pasa: I'm talking about the brujo and his sneering, heroin-chic, heather leather-and-woodchips, walking-dead wife.)

EMPHATICALLY DISLIKE. Oomph in the emphasis. (Okay, I like the man personally, but I find him untrustworthy and prone to suspect behavior; as for her, my heathenness comes out, and I find myself terribly averse to the living dead - SHE'S A FRICKIN' CORPSE ALREADY! NOT COOL TO HAVE AROUND, AS I AM TRYING TO ENJOY A REAL LIFE HERE, GET MARRIED AND AM ENTITLED! I AM MALE BRIDEZILLA IN THIS!)


In fourth grade, at the long-demolished-IIRC-due-to-redistricting Woodrow Wilson Elementary in Richmond, California, there was a little blonde girl, Summer. One fine fall day, a bunch of us boys banded together to bully her white-trash ass: we stole a teardrop-shaped, amber-colored hard plastic bauble from her, then kicked it around the asphalt playground - in the process, scratching it up horribly. She cried, and I think it was Sheldon, or Hunter, or I (or maybe even a teacher, or one of the indomidable girl trio of Christina - unlikely - or Leah or Katie... Anyway...) who prevailed upon the rest to go to her and individually apologize once we learned that her dad had made the pretty, precious thing FOR HER EXPRESSLY while incarcerated.

Only today do I realize he had crafted her, at great risk to his few liberties and privileges, a blade; he gifted it to his little girl (perhaps by proxy, through the mom or other family) to use it as a weapon should some sonofabitch mess with her (we are talking '84 or '85.)

But of course, all she knew was that it was something beautiful her jailbird dad had created for his baby girl - she did not at all immediately see in it something to ARM herself in some - heaven forfend - MERCENARY fashion. Nor did I, for that matter, until this very writing today, and I've always loved blades and cutting edges [FULL DISCLOSURE: I was raised by a former sailor who was a staunch Second Amendment Dad.]

My point is, it just goes to show you about certain "evil voices" - voices I've perceived and the source of which, communicated with - and the occasional philosophy behind them: that poor character comes from impoverished stock.

IT. DOES. NOT. (Cf. the Eichelbergerians.)

On Security Measures (Some Backfire, Natch...)

And nothing on "Paranoia" spoken out loud as a "shut-down" word:

Karen Melton-Stewart, today's sort-of heroine...

(One moral of the story: it's not fun to be a tattle-tale, but it could save lives! You might be the only one with the correct thing to say in the room!)


Stonyford, California (formerly "Stony Ford," or "Smithville," IIRC in Wild West days - always and to this day unincorporated - when my family's property was among other things passed through by itinerants with their own portable foundry), ZIP 95979, was pasture land, as well as cowboys and Indian territory - well, Stonyford has always been interesting to describe to others in terms of its geographic location: it's essentially, in this day of Google Earth and Google Street View, a town of 139 souls (as far as the census goes) just on the Glenn County and Colusa County borders, in the Western mountains, about an hour North of Clear Lake.

Now, San Francisco is home to a lot of non-Northern California people, and the name of "Colusa," named after an already semi-mythical Chief Colus, is pretty much unheard of by a city that has a lot of historical ties to it; the OG who shoeshines his box with his windex downtown might know of East Park and have fished for bluegill and catfish there, but Scott Wiener's staff sneers the name "Stony-ferd" quizzically, even though the stone from which the Ferry Building was built was quarried right here in Sites, California, off the I-5, and then bustled down the Sacramento River as it runs through Colusa, California, to the delta and beyond on steamboat; VIP families had second homes in the city of Colusa, or would weekend at, say, the Olympic Hotel on Eddy to catch theatre shows back in the day...

(Speaking of the former Olympic, it is now converted to low-income apartments by TNDC. I lived in unit 212 for 4 1/2 years; in retrospect, it was a fine personal security measure to tell neighbors at social events that I was from "Mendocino County, up North"; nobody, among the pinay, Chinese, or old white gay dragons had heard of Colusa - okay, maybe Michael had - but also, it was a WEIRD FOUR AND A HALF YEARS, and truth be told, I was just using old counter-espionage trickery: it's more convenient to namedrop a County that has immediate, everywhere recognition, and I WAS living in a holding pen for elderly CIA assets: Chinese dissidents, pinay who'd lived in Riyadh, divinity majors... You see where I'm coming from THERE. No disrespect to Colusa County pride!)

Perennially, almost traditionally, seniors and the disabled are taken horrible advantage of by scammers and grifters, so here's a public service announcement:

Note to special needs: do you know OCD people? Sometimes they annoy us, doing necessary stuff, but too often, and the wrong way... But we can learn a little lesson from our obsessive-compulsive friends and family: remember, not only be careful of phishing Web sites (ask a friend what phishing with that spelling of "ph" is, if you can't look it up...); and don't tell vital information (banking stuff like balances or your banking institution's name) to strangers; be sure to change your passwords and pin numbers on occasion: passwords for e-mail, social media, and banking you might change every two to three months; pins for ATM and Debit cards: change those, too, sometimes -  work out a schedule with your social worker/counselor!

SHIP'S SECURITY: "And remember: when going to the ATM or bank to get cash, take along a buddy you can trust! (Ideally not a redshirt yeoman, who might die on the way there or back!)"


PS links to my Gofundme campaign and Venmo (the latter 'cos I'm personally broke) site on the sidebar to the right.... If you're feeling "CRAIGSLIST hooker-CLIENT GENEROU$")...

Monday, September 25, 2017

Johnny Cash - Hurt (Official Video) HD

Full of broken parts I cannot repair...

I Have Been a Fraud, a Hypocrite, and a Coward...

...And I may yet be again...

...So one thing led to another, and suddenly Phyllis' eyeball was out of her socket, and John Adams took a knee to the groin from Buffy the Vampire Slayer...

"Be not intimidated; nor suffer yourselves to be wheedled out of your liberties by any pretense of politeness, delicacy, or decency. These, as they are often used, are but three different names for hypocrisy, chicanery and cowardice." - John Adams


NEXT WEEK: My Shanghai trickery and Fukien shenanigans reveal a Swedish mystery, as well as a Danish delight!


Really cool list of resources on my latest Gofundme update, if anyone's in the 530 area code and shopping for kit homes. (Even if you don't donate to our family's cause, thanks for reading!)


My new band name: David Attenborough and the Tralfamadorians... (It was a toss up between that toss-off and, "Tyrone and the Meth," but nobody gets the Tyrone-to-Gravity's Rainbow reference.)


Finishing up (.pdf) my exhibit for the Stonyford Museum's rock collection, then going underneath the house today... Will report back after noon!


Gal Gadot! What trouble you must have got in with SAG for that initial $300K on the WW shoot! Wow, it must have taken all your Israeli diplomacy and mad politics-in-the-IDF-and-at-school skillz to pull that one over on them...

Sunday, September 24, 2017

Perks To Being Me: I'm Not Always Barbara Hershey Getting Raped By The Entity....

I don't share often, vis a vis voices and presences and apparitions and hallucinations and such, but I should tell you, I'm often finding myself kept company by the living and the dead; Joan Crawford and Lisa Kudrow (chemist!) have helped me with laundry and cleaning; there's a couple of Englishmen who adore my cooking, and taste with me; Alicia Moore AKA P!nk likes my singing voice and some boss-ass shit I've done; I was with Carrie Fisher perimortem; Betty Davis went through a treatment similar to what some "evil" voices have done to me - I saw her treatment from the early '50s in a full-color REM-cycle dream; I keep friends with many military; personal acquaintances like Keith and Janet pop in from time to time; me and Naomi have a hoot (speaking of Streatham), and despise Galliano's nonsense...

Here's a diary entry from yesterday:

theories abound, including one that i'm mentally ill. I am. Duh.


BTW, fancy new resources for those house-shopping in the 530 or adjacent area codes at my Gofundme site's latest update... Thanks!


Three from among the living to cleanse the mind's palate after the previous entry...


New stuff on my Gofundme... Good resources, too, for those in the 530 area code searching for kit homes... Take a gander, give if you like! Thanks!

Cathartic Magic?

The Taoist sorcery embodied by the Ecuadorian witch's dead-woman-walking-talking-sneering-and-shrinking wife has kind of got me in this idea of making the most of a situation: I want to get married, so maybe I should post a bunch of pictures of already deceased shit that ought not be saying overmuch to the living:


And it was a beautiful day in the neighborhood:


My Big Blue response to this shit (just used the MySFHealth portal last week, and it is STILL a bad joke... *AHEM*, Mr. Mark Zuckerberg):


Really cool new update on my Gofundme site (please give whatever you can - thanks!), and be sure in that vein to check out a few updates prior, the one with the wonderful list of kit home manufacturers in the NorCal area... (So four items in my Caen-like three-dot column? That's deathy enough for me!)

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Sacred Lotus

Original painting from 2012 or '13 (BY YOURS TRULY); acrylic, gold leaf, and rhinestones on birch board - probably destroyed by Tenderloin Neighborhood Development Corporation during my criminal displacement by Donald Falk, Nicole Grays, et alia after October 2014 - called "junk" or "trash" by Nicole, in point of fact....

....Not to mention, a lesser lotus on white paper (the characters reading, "Respect for those who came before; compassion for those who come after"):


"From the deepest, darkest mud grows the most beautiful lotus."

Out of the Blue...

...Mom decides she wants bricks and compost from Griff's Feed & Seed today, so I tag along for a yummy lunch, and to go window shopping; she probably would have bought me boots, but I have my Interceptors (which I wore today), and my rubbers...


Golden1 Tells Me...

...That since I have "no credit" rather than "bad credit," I must put up $250 to get a credit card with my credit union in order to boost the following:


But at least I have no debts...

A Little Tour of My BOO-DWAHR...updated 0400 PT...

Here is where the magic happens! (Also, what dude wouldn't want to make out with me in this room?)


First, me (with dog)... KISSY FACE!

Shelves lined with books and activities. AND PORN! (Please note the floating lapidary display I'm working on for Joyce at the local museum, on the desk)...

Closet full of clothes, a bit of color accentuating it (Eric, your old football jerseys have been washed for that thing you're doing down in Ventura, hanging on my side with the clean stuff)...

Dubious art collection, cork board, iconography, full bed with luxe 400-thread count sheets...

Detail by door: an old strega trick to combat some Ecuadorian brujeria from you-know-where and you-know-who...



My sexy nightstand, with all I need except lube (ooh-rah!), which is on the desk...

My own, personal Shark vacuum, which I use to detail the car, as well as my new-to-me Chinese wicker picnic basket -- good for outings to a park, say, in Alameda (hint, hint, somebody with a high-and-tight...)

And my sexy pedicure... SO INTIMATE, Y'ALL!

...update out...

Welcome to a typical shopping/cleaning day:

Having some homemade limeade, making a shopping list...

While making (in my $10 Walmart Crock Pot - for realz!) chicken noodle soup left over from half a rotisserie chicken; even the bones went into it, and got soft for dog treats or people treats; I gave the next door neighbor a bowl for his health on his 90th birthday...

...And contented myself with a Hindoo lunch: saffron rice gussied up with shallots (and saffron's expensive, Mr. Turmeric!); fresh spinach; walnuts, jack-colby and mozzarella; and a glass of half-and-half...


Nat'l Security cry for help, courtesy of  CONSCIENTIOUS CITIZEN W. E., who photographed these in - REALLY - Willows/Orland/Ukiah California -- WHO CAN HONESTLY TELL, IN TODAY'S KIM JONG UN AMERICA???

Remember: if you see something, SAY SOMETHING HELLA FUCKED UP -- loose lips sink ships, so make sure yours are sucking dick or eating pussy after hitting the glass dick!


My lip gloss is cool... My lip gloss is poppin'...

Whatchu know 'bout me? Whatchu know 'bout me?


Onegai shimasu...

Friday, September 22, 2017


Desperation... Mikey, won't you marry me soon?


Got a mi-nikui but okay start to the morning...

Had coffee...

Walked the dog...

Blew some clouds...

...And prepped a couple of paintings to hang; cleaned them and such; one's a leaf I did in acrylic on a canvas board, and the other's an oil can by Rick Darnell - also acrylic, but on matte board... My curatorial skills be hella jamming...


Got a lot done in Willows (95988, off the I-5) today:

...Ordered new tires and a rotation at Safety Tire for Eric's old Volt, and got a great deal...

...Ordered breakfast, where I saw one of Willows' only lesbian couples...Flashed our secret sign LOL - kimochi ee yo...

...Had the taco salad and coffee, said "hi" to Mayra and Steph...

...And finished up at Walmart: among other things, got a new toilet seat and lid, which I installed as soon as I got home; MY TOILET IS NOW THE BOMB DIGGITY YO!


As always, would love some help with our housing situation... Much thug luv! PEACE!