No-Exist

Religion is spiritual nationalism. It's not time to co-exist, it's time to stop the aimless speculation and metaphysical dice rolling and admit that WE DON'T KNOW what's going to happen when the final light goes out. SO, commit to the common denominator of humanity and put your efforts towards the things that bind us all. Like, air. Water. Food. Once we get that straight we can all go back to our storytelling.

All That Remains

when you left
you forgot
your toothpaste

one last squeeze
and you're
gone

No Ice

we keep forgetting to make ice
(it’s been years now)
the cricket behind the fridge
is actually ten crickets behind the fridge
The white plaster spot,
that I fixed
where I punched
still isn’t painted
and now
actually seems
part of
the kitchen
And the hum of the computer fan
can’t even drown out its own futility
and she sleeps
unaware of all its all-ness
and all its nothingness
sleeps
and perhaps
dreams

Dada Da

I just became a surreal estate agent. I'm now licensed to sell floating eyes, melting clocks and stairs that go nowhere.

Senor Pinchy Eyes

George Bush was never running this country. He had more hands up his ass than a season of “The Muppets”.

Old Is The New New

“Sears to Reorganize Into Separate Operating Units”

The units are to be known as “Local Hardware Stores” and will be run by highly knowledgeable, though extremely slow and cranky employees.

Sit & Think

I was thinking about getting into meditation. I wasn’t thinking about it too hard of course.. because.. then.. I would have been meditating about getting into meditation and I’m pretty sure that would cause some sort of rip in the time/space continuum.

God Bless America

They call it “faith”. I call it the ultimate lack of faith. There’s so little faith in fact, they have to go get banners printed up saying “God Bless America.” and hang them all over the place. Is that for when God’s flying overhead? In his invisible jet? Doling out the blessings? “Hmmm… let’s see, blessed England, Germany, France (against their will), Canada… Mexico. Shit I feel like I’m forgetting someone. Uraguy?.. no, did them. Hmm.. wait a second. What’s that banner say down there? I’ll just swoop in for a closer look. Wooooosh! “God. Bless. America!” Of course! America! Oh myself – that would have been hysterical. All that wasted prayer. OK America, one blessing, coming up. Zzzzzzzzz Shazam!!”

Green 2 GO!

Green Wheels Medical Marijuana Delivery – “We bring the weed to you. As soon as we find our car keys.”

The Perils of Ambition

I'm living in Los Angeles. 2 years now. I'm lying on the beach in Santa Monica, it's 88 degrees, there isn't a cloud in sight and the beach looks like it’s been hit by a veritable poonami. I'm reading a magazine article, oddly enough, entitled "Southern California's Black Hole Sun". It's talking about the never changing, ever blissful weather, lulling artists into a morass of unproductiveness. I'm reading, and reading, and regardless of my current sun tanning status, I'm taking exception with the article. I don't like being stereotyped. So I decide, I'm gonna get up, and I'm gonna do something. I'm gonna make something of myself. So I get up, dust off the sand, go home and begin to apply myself.

Within a week, I've booked 3 auditions. In under a month I've done three TV spots. In less than a year I have my own series and the day after that I'm lead in a feature film with Matt Damon, and he's got second billing. It's dinners and parties and award ceremonies and interviews and proposals and propositions and perversions and parties in the hills and music, stimulants, drugs, sex, megalomania, Oprah, Scientology. I have a Ferrari and I'm constantly swarmed by women. I live in Malibu when I'm not living in Tuscany and I throw parties all the time, and I get fucked up all the time. Everything is wonderful.

Until…

I start showing up late to set, and the network has to have “words” with me. And then they suggest rehab, and then they order rehab, and then a judge orders rehab – and then I just say fuck all of you! and I run out of the courtroom, jump into my Ferrari, smoke a fatty, throw back a mickey and I fucking FLY up the PCH like a goddamn Sidewinder missle baby – and it feels SOOO good. I let my eyes close, just for a second, and I wonder, when did it all get so crazy? Then I open my eyes, just as I plow into the back of a 36.5 ft. Gulf Stream, Sun-Voyager, as I’m doing 142 miles per hour, causing the behemoth motor home to squeal and squelch out of control, punch through the guard rail and plummet 200ft onto the rocks below, finally exploding in a beautiful orange fireball before sliding into the ocean.

I panic, and take off, but someone saw it all go down, and they get my license number and they call the cops, Now the cops are chasing me but I make it back to my mansion, up to my bell tower, my panic room and now the S.W.A.T. team has taken up positions and I'm reeling and sweating and yelling about the Jews wrecking Hollywood and the smoke from my Ferrari is billowing into the sky - and some unseen voice in the background is saying something like "Let the girl go, and give yourself up." And just as I lift my rifle over the edge… everything goes black.

I wake up in the hospital and they try me from the hospital bed. They find me guilty of laws known and unknown and I’m sentenced to solitary confinement for the rest of my life. The judge looks at me.. looks deep into my eyes and asks, is there anything I’d like to say. And I say yes, "All I really, really every wanted, was to be lying on the beach, soaking up the sun and watching the girls walk by." The judge says, "Pity. Take him away!" and slams his gavel down.

The echoing reverberations wake me up, into consciousness, stunned, but safe. In fact, I’m lying on the beach, soaking up the sun, and watching the girls go by.

Phew. Now THAT was close.

Boogers in the Bathtub

Boogers in the bathtub just won't float
They'd like to leave the castle
But they can't swim the moat
They'd be super snotty sailors
If they only had a boat
But the boogers in the bathtub
just..
won't...
float!

Matter of Time (Lyrics)

It's just a matter of time
before I tell you
It's just a matter of time
It's just a matter of time
before I sell you
It's just a matter of time

It's just a matter of when
you would figure it out
just a matter of how far you'd go
It's just a matter
I've taken away all the doubt
Just a matter
I know why I know what I know

It's just a matter of time
before you sell me
It's just a matter of time
It's just a matter
I hope you think well of me
It's just a matter of time

It's just a matter of
keeping temptation away
just a matter of
letting a sleeping dog lie
just a matter of
making the end of the day
just a matter of
knowing that everything dies

Oooh
time and again
You understand
I take your hand
but, you lead me astray
you lead me astray

It's just a matter of time
before it gets me
it's just a matter of time
it's just a matter of time
before she lets me
it's just a matter of time

It's just a matter of
Feeling the pain in your side
just a matter of
knowing the moment has gone
Just a matter of
making the end of the ride
Just a matter of
staying from dusk until dawn
dusk until dawn

Oooh
time and again
You understand
I take your hand
but, you lead me astray
you lead me astray
you lead me astray
you lead me astray

Maybe (Lyrics)

Maybe I won't cry
maybe I'll be steady
Maybe I'll fly
Come on sky get ready for me
For me

Maybe I won't weep
I'll find a higher purpose
Then I'll go deep
At least beneath the surface
And I, won't mind

Maybe I won't bleed
'Cause this is all illusion
Nothing is real
It's only sweet confusion
And I, don't mind
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight

In A Perfect World

Tonight's News:

“Man Gets Hobby, Stops Blowing Leaves.”

Dollars & Sense

Tonight's News:

“Man’s Decision Not To Return Lost Money Pays Off.”

Keeping Up With The Wings

Tonight's News:

"US To Stay Competitive With Cheap Knock-Offs of Cheap Chinese Knock-Offs."

Doors of Perception

In the largest class action suit of it’s kind, roughly 4 million disgruntled purchasers of 2005’s “The Best of the Doors” sued publisher Rhino UK upon the release this week of “The Very Best of the Doors”, claiming they’d been duped. George Beavers long time Doors fan and self-proclaimed mega collector, put it this way:

“It’s a sham and I’m sick of it. This is school yard trickery. This is ‘infinity plus one’ and we’re not going to take it anymore.”

Charles Swartzman, lawyer for the plaintiff, pointed to Amazon.com’s editorial notes on the release:

“It's for the listener who wants a bigger picture of the Doors without investing in the actual albums or a box set and, in that sense, this "Very Best of the Doors", does its job well. If you're looking for an introduction or just the hits, take either of the 2001 or 2007 single discs; if you're looking for most of the best, pick the double-disc set, either with or without the DVD.”

“Most of the best!? This is an audio shell-game and my clients are through being ripped off.”

Hearing word of the suit, Capitol Records rushed to change the name of its forthcoming “Best of the Eagles” to “The Best of the Eagles, We Really Mean It, We Swear to Christ.”

Dear Tivoli Tech Sir or Madam:

Upon receipt of this radio – please follow these steps:
1) Turn radio on. (The radio is fully charged (1 full day, plugged in). You will see that radio does not turn on.
2) Attach the wall charger to the wall, and radio.
3) Turn radio on. You will now see the radio turns on, having been what I call “jumped”, and will operate normally without the wall plug, on it’s own charge. This is ONE of the most annoying problems currently with this radio – and reduces it solely to a plug in radio, with no portability.
Second, the ON/AM/FM switch is tenuous at best. Sometimes ON won’t go ON. Sometimes FM becomes AM, AM becomes FM and frequently, all three will suddenly become one of the other without warning. The truly diminishes the enjoyment of listening to radio.
Thirdly – the “weatherproof” coating on the radio has all but gone – thus eliminating it’s “weatherproof-ness”. This happened within the first year and a half of owning the radio – as the rubbery coating, simply turned to goo. This is by my own admission, less annoying now that the goo has finally come off – but, it’s still in my opinion, an obvious design/manufacturing defect.
Lastly, the antenna is perpetually loose. You’ll find it fairly tight upon receiving the unit, as I’ve tightened it for the millionth time, prior to sending. Don’t worry, it should be loose by the time you get to….here, in this letter.
Thank you and I look forward to a satisfactory conclusion!

Sincerely,

Ben Brooks

Close Shave

"Close Shave"

I winded my chihauhua, by walking in the wind
We got to Petawawa, but his fur had surely thinned
I bought him some extensions and my balding puppy grinned
If the breeze had been much brisker then he would have wound up skinned!

Badadum

The other night Hoody was rehearsing and we were playing "Badadum" - one of my drummer John's favorites. I was reminded that at the best of times, lyrics are a pipeline to our (just barely) unconsciousness. This song was a clear reminder of that.


Badadum (Lyrics)

Sitting back with my home-school honey
Thinking back now don't you think it's funny?
All the times we never needed money
Getting richer but I feel much poorer

Sitting back in a nook by the river
Hear a sound now don't it make you shiver?
For a pound you know she will deliver
Love or leave her is your only choice now

It's as easy as believing that it's true
Look around now all your see is you
In the end, all your really knew
Getting older but you ain't no wiser

Maybe I will when I'm older
Maybe I will but it's not time now
Maybe I will when I'm older...
No

Maybe I will when I'm older
Maybe I will but it's not time now
Maybe I will when I'm older...
No

Maybe I will when I'm older
Maybe I will but it's not time now
Maybe I will when I'm older...
No

Kill The Ordinary (Lyrics)

"Kill The Ordinary"

Let's kill the ordinary
let's take its life away
let's leave the bored and frightened
who needs them anyway?
There are no more conventions
there are no rules to bend
it's only our intentions
tell me what you intend,

when you find
that time is an illusion
when you find
you made your own confusion
when you find
that everyone's conclusion
is concluded all alone

Let's drown the old familiar
let's pull the common thread
let's drain the stagnant water
that's bottled in our heads
let's fight the fear inside us
let's put the guilt aside
let's let the night endear us
the universe is wide

when we find
that time is an illusion
when we find
we made your own confusion
when we find
that everyone's conclusion
is concluded all alone

Let's put the pain behind us
let's take a second chance
let's let the rain remind us
our hearts were meant to dance
let's follow every instinct
let's honor every day
let's let it all just happen
what have to anyway

When you find
that time was an illusion
when you find
you don't need the confusion
when you find
your beautiful conclusion
will conclude with only you
only you

let's kill the ordinary

1976 Volare

My father owned a 1976 Volare station wagon – the car credited with coining the term “lemon”. Every day was a Monday on that car’s assembly line. It was painted a bright, almost neon red – which was really convenient when it came time for looking for some part, that, for no know reason, simply fell off the car while screaming down the highway at 35mph. I’ve come to wonder if the parts weren’t falling off, but were in fact, jumping off – sort of a “Mutiny on the Volare.” We we once driving along and one of the doors fell off. I think it was actually an early precursor to the airbag – sort of a dramatic way to say, “get out of the car, NOW!”

REAL Sports Quote #1

“We have to strike first so we can use the counter-punch before them."

4th Aid

I recently received my St. John's Ambulance 4th Aid certificate. I'm now fully trained how to be sympathetic at the funeral.

Contents of my Desk. 2006 A Found List.

Ok – here’s my desk – here's what's on my desk, minus the two brownie plates, which had recently turned into Petri dishes, and looked like they were trying to recreate new brownies, they, have officially been removed. Ok, here it is. Oh, and this is random – it’s all random – and honestly, there are layers I can’t see without removing other layers – so, this is what I can see without doing too much work.

A stack of blank CD’s, a burned candle in a glass, with three dead roaches in it ( I know they’re dead because I’ve checked twice already.) A second burned out candle with business receipts in it. A digital camera, a Leatherman, a notebook, my wallet, both cordless phones – both blinking (note to self, check messages) a protective wrist guard – a headlamp – prescription sunglasses – and EZ Lube receipt, a checkbook, a guitar string (an Ernie Ball 24w to be specific) packing tape – a Christmas flyer for Macey’s (it’s February) car keys, a pot holder (for hot pots) a glass pipe (for hot pot) – a colony of wall warts, jacks, plugs and cables, running into a large power strip, down the wall, into my computer, back out, a cloth napkin, CD’s of drum tracks from a studio two years ago – the plastic wrap for the $10 digital radio I bought to hear senate hearing on the next supreme court nominee, an Altoids box (smells like weed), match books, all natural deodorant (I don’t use it, I don’t sweat – honest), portions of shoelaces which I keep cutting off my sneaker. I’m not sure where the excess comes from, but oddly they don’t seem to be getting any smaller, a notepad, the instruction manual for a carpentry calculator, an envelope of tax forms (currently serving double duty as a mouse pad, phone number pad, and… apparently some writing ideas), candy bar wrapper, USB wire, Phillips screw driver, garage door opener, small (useless) golf pencil, (ok, I’m digging down a bit), rolling papers, more comedy notes, gas receipts, auto club member card, another (3) notebooks, cough drop wrappers, guitar cable Velcro strap, pocket knife(s) dead AAA and AA batteries, empty Barnes & Nobel plastic bag, old parts from my repaired Telecaster, head phones, numerous CD’s of rough recordings, a Volvo repair manual, phone bill, credit card bill – some open – many not, a dust mask, two fire wire drives, a shaker egg, Tiger Balm – many more business cards (who ARE these people??) M&M’s bag (empty), empty battery package, ACLU envelope (unopened), small wooden box with a sliding lid for holding things like, joints, aluminum one hitter, dead matches, pen, a case with one ear plug in it, a book on wooden boxes, a CD of a girl who waits at this breakfast place I go, more dead matches, a wireless keyboard, a wired keyboard, a book on “Setting up a Workshop” snowboard rental receipt, Sharpee marker, two monitors (one on, one off) gutar pic, pencil, kick drum beater head, Q-tip (used) and a half used bottle of expectorant.

Teach Your Children Well

I did it again.

F Bomb. Thalia in the back seat of the car.

In my defense, yet again, the legitimacy of my cursing was wholly warranted - as the bonehead in the left hand land sat through two advance "go forchrissakes!!!". Also in my defense, what I really said was, "For fuck sake." No judgment against the idiot in front of me who's holding up MY lilfe - merely cursing the entire situation.

Thalia, in all her kindness lets me speed through the stale yellow advance light before she starts.


Thalia
Papa. That wasn't a good word choice.

Papa
I know baby. You're right. I'm sorry.

Thalia
You can say buggin', you can say frustrated...

Papa
Thank you Thaila. Yes, it was a bad choice.

Thalia
You can say angry...

Papa
Thank you.

Thalia
Papa - you're like an older Micha.

I was struck, dumb. (Dumber?) 'Micha' is the boy Thalia has learned "fuck" and all of its derivative forms from. A kid I find... challenging.

Papa
Thalia, it was a bad choice, but I'm NOT an older Micha.

Thalia
You don't need to say fuck papa.

Papa
Yes Thalia.

She's calling me out - 2 and almost one 1/2 years of life, calling me out. I think I may be in trouble.

Modern Americanism

"If I could afford one of those, I'd have two!"

Ain't Too Proud To Beg

I'm trying to park my car. This guy is trying to help me. I seriously do not need his help. I've been driving since I was 10. I trust ME - in a car, as opposed to this legless guy, in a wheelchair. But he's wheeling and pointing, and trying like hell to make "parking space pointing out" a viable business.

Now, you could argue he's too proud to beg - however, I'd say bumming change while holding a sign saying, "I tried making money pointing out parking spaces, but felt like an ass." takes more pride, and indeed more wisdom.

That's a personal journey I'll throw change at.

Grains of Truth

Remember:

The beach without chicks is just a bunch of sand.

Humans

Humans.

We are all time release fertilizer.

Miracle Busters

I took a crap that looks like Jesus.

Seriously, no one could be more surprised than me - I'm an atheist.

But it does. It truly looks like Jesus.

I called the Vatican - asked them to send their Miracle Squad - to see if it's a miracle. (Like I said, I'm a non-believer - but if I can sell a million t-shirts that say, "Jesus, you're shittin' me!" I'd be sitting pretty.

They said no. Wouldn't do it. They said (in so many words) that they couldn't market... shit. No matter what it looked like. Toast, waffles, sides of barns, even some strange mould - yes. Shit. No.

So - there it is. With one flush - my last glimpse of faith went down the drain.

Hoody Who?

Yeah... after about 1500 other potential band names - we gave up and called ourselves "Hoody"

This was Hoody's first gig:

http://www.youtube.com/user/harmonicatastrophe

I'm Teaching My Daughter to Curse

I'm driving along Santa Monica Blvd. with Thalia in the back in her car seat.

At the intersection ahead, this lady pulls an incredibly bonehead move and nearly kills several drivers and a pedestrian. I shout out:

"Stupid bitch!"

(Oops.)

Not quite yet 2 Thalia continues to look coolly out the window at the traffic - sipping her bottle.

One block.

Two blocks.

Three blocks...

Maybe I've dodged the bullet. Then - suddenly, this little voice says:

"Tupid Bitch!"

(shit)

I don't miss a beat:

"Super beach! We should go to a super beach today! Big waves, nice sand.. a really, really super beach!"

Thalia says,

"Super beach."

Yes! Yes! Super beach! Thalia smiles, goes back to her bottle and watching the world go by. Nice - good cover. Super beach. She'll never know the..

"Tupid Bitch."

Damn. Little ears, BIG brain.

On Becoming An Atheist

The hardest thing about becoming an atheist was calling my godson and telling him I had to break up with him.

Tuesday's Bumper Sticker

STOP PRAYING AND DO SOMETHING

YOUR INCESSNATLY BARKING DOG.

Dear Neighbor:

I regret having to be sitting here writing you this letter, however the current situation has gone on long enough, and must be addressed.

Each day, after you let your dog into your yard, and then leave, he (or she) begins to bark. And bark. And bark. (He barks a lot.) Here’s a short list of just some of the things he barks at:

- Airplanes
- Passing cars
- Our sliding door opening and/or closing.
- Quiet talking in the backyard
- Mowing the lawn
- Raking the lawn
- Watering the lawn
- Your other dog
- Swinging in the hammock
- Sun tanning
- Other neighbors talking/laughing/whispering
- The other neighborhood dogs who inevitable start barking to create a
certifiable canine cacophony.

As I write this, I can still hear him lost in one of his barking fits. This one was initially brought on by my watering the plants, but now seems to have become some sick, self-fulfilling cycle, where he is simply barking at himself, or perhaps, his great anger at the absence of any other thing to bark at.

Being a dog owner in a residential area, you are no doubt aware of city ordinances pertaining to your pet, so I won’t insult you by quoting them. I do regret having to “meet” this way, however for myself, and several others who work, or reside home during the day – it’s simply unfair to expect the neighborhood to for us to listen to your dog.

I believe you have several options at your disposal, ranging from shock collars to a good home in the country. I also understand that Los Angeles is home to some cutting edge work in the field of dog therapy, which might also be explored. So, on behalf of myself and all the other neighbors, thank you in advance for your dealing with this unrest.


Sincerely,
Your Neighbor

Cheetas

Father's Day is the new Manshower.

Modelo's and tequila in the parking lot of the Beverly Hills Hotsprings.

The last real hotspring water in LA, goddamnit.

Left to go to Cheetas.

Turns out the damn place doesn't open till 8 on Sundays. WTF? To allow people time to get home from church? To wait till after dinner, when the sun goes down?

Jesus - I can do that shit with a bowl of Rice Krispies.

8pm?

How about a Denny's Grand Slam breakfast and a lap dance?

How about - morning cartoons and a lap dance?

8pm?

Jesus.

Fuck off John McCain

Yes John, Obama should be rattling America's saber at Iran - supporting the people in the streets.

With WHAT saber John!? The one in Iraq, or the one in Afghanistan?

But you're not talking about a sword are you John? You're talking about something... uh...bigger than a breadbox.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o-zoPgv_nYg

Ahhh John - you PTSD addled never was. The world has changed.

Sadly but true - we will have to talk to our enemies.

Jesus H. Christ

What am I doing?

I have a blog.

I updated my Fartbook status twice in one day.

I must have something to say.

I must.