Talking Heads – Screeched.

Hey, Liz!

What is it this time, Dustin?

You can go buy my porno now. Only $24.95! It’s a steal!

All right, first of all why would I want to see it, like, ever? At all? And secondly? $24.95? Are you mad? 1 night in Paris is $24.95, and shit that won an AVN for “Best overall marketing campaign” or some shit. You think you’re in the same league as a professional whore like Paris Hilton?

Not really, but it is put out by the same guys. I mean, check out the covers:

Still, why the fuck do you think I wanna see you have sex?

Don’t deny it. You wanna see me get down and funky.

If by “funky” you mean “Dirty Sanchez” you freak.

Yeah. I’m freaky, aw yeah!

Besides, if I wanted to see it I would just use this link here to download a lo-res version of it from Rapid Share.


Yeah, someone mailed me the link. So why would I pay to see you put the moves on, what was it, a wedding party?

Bachelorette, don’t ask. Anyway, make with the $24.95! I needs to pays for my house, remember?

Not this again.

Wanna T-Shirt?

I’m leaving.

I’ll sign it!


… Liz?

Are there really so many?

Why are there so many
Songs about rainbows
And whats on the other side?

But really, are there so many songs about rainbows? Outside of Rainbow Connection and Somewhere Over the Rainbow, how many songs involving rainbows can you think of, without looking at google or anything else?

I mean “Why are there so many songs about guns / women / booze / cars” I could understand. Millions of ‘em, I’d be willing to bet. But songs about rainbows? Not songs that MENTION rainbows, no. Songs specifically ABOUT rainbows. How many?

I hate it when frogs lie to me.


And suddenly, with the force of a thousand furies, it’s Monday again. I have things taped to my desk. Paper clipped to my desk. Attached to my desk with fasteners unheard of. None of them truly interest me. the temptation is great to sweep them all aside with a dismissive hand and keep moving.

But that isn’t how things are done, is it?

I had myself a good weekend full of deep and honest conversation and good and true friend type stuff, punctuated by beer and long walks in the desolate, deserted places along the lower east side. When it hits a holiday in NY people scatter and it is a lot of fun to go walking somewhere.

Thursday night, down on Ave. A, it was chilly and raining and maybe 1/6th of the normal number of people were about. Mostly it was empty space and glittering rain.

A day or so later the first few Xmas tree sellers had put up stands, cleverly designed to make you love/hate/love. You walk into this forest of pine, the smells rich and strong and heady. You look around and smile, it’s so wonderful. Then the middle of the walk hits you and it is all chintz: stuffed penguins in Santa hats, baubles, shiny useless things, glittery tree stands. As soon as you are fed up and sick of the fakeness that they are pushing you come out into the second half of the row of pine and forget about it all for a second or two.

Perfectly smart design there.

And that’s gonna be the whole city for another two months. It’ll get worse quickly and better slowly. The people will crowd the streets and shops with shoulders and knees and bags a-swinging. Soon, there will be whole places in town you won’t want to go unless you really and truly need to. But then, if yer here on Xmas you want to go to the places that aren’t the full on haunts. They’ll be empty, quiet, still and settled; for one night.


I find that I tell stories because I love it. I mean, sure that’s simple enough but what you need to understand is how deep that runs.

Stories take precedence over:

* Food
* Sleep
* Friends
* My own well being, often enough
* Common sense
* Just about everything there is

I tend to say “stories” instead of “writing” more and more because lord knows writing isn’t the only way to tell a story. I don’t care how I tell them, what medium I use – prose, script, speech, mime, it’s all story.

Could I stop telling them? To a large extent the answer is yes. I know, deep down, that I don’t write because I have to. I’ve stopped in the past, for long stretches of years, and like any other addiction it starts with periods of insanity and settles to normalcy after a while. So no, I don’t write, I don’t tell stories, because I have to. I do it because I love to. I love to more than anything else I’ve found.

I love the feeling in my brain when a new idea blossoms and I get to play with something brand new, shaping it and willing it into being simply because I damn well said so. Something out of nothing appeals to me on a fundamental level.

I love the act of hammering a story into shape, though I may grumble when I’m deep in the trenches. Ignore that grumbling. I’m having the time of my life.

I love reading over things, hearing stories, telling them, finding them, talking about them. Every inch of the process is candy to me.

I hope each of you has something you love this much – whatever it is. And that you all get to indulge in it from time to time.


I can’t believe it’s not butter!

So yeah, regardless of every other plot problem, out of character moment and other what the hell thing going on in Marvel’s Civil War #5, Steve McNiven managed to draw the fucking funniest Captain America expression ever.

Someone stuck his shield up his ass, I don’t know. It’s supposed to be surprise and barking orders in an emergency. But that one wide eye just speaks volumes to me. It’s the “I… but… what? Buh!” face.

I loves it so.

Quick Shots

So far this week I’ve written one short story and five articles for and it’s noon on Weds. I still have days left this week. Aiming for another seven or eight footnote pieces and another short story before Monday.


Almost saw the new Bond last night. Denied due to sell-out shows. Will see it, and the Tenacious D movie next week.


Still no Wii, but that’s a good thing. It means I ain’t so distracted when I wanna write.


Except by my cat, who woke me up this morning by knocking everything on my night table to the floor. Hard. Which included my glasses, my phone, my alarm clock and a lamp. Surprisingly, nothing broke.


I might get my new Tom Waits CDs from Amazon today. It might be Friday. On Monday DHL claimed today. Yesterday they said Friday. Today they seem to say today again. So I sit and anxiously await the DHL guy. Or not.


Just started reading the new Pynchon book. Is yummy. Is very yummy.


And now I go make a phone call and have lunch.

Plug of Butt.

Well it’s time for the surreal.

Celebrity Buttplugs!

All they offer for now are:

That would be “Parass Hilton”, “Smell Gibson” and “George Dubya Tush”

And I have to say, the cute little name thing drives me right up a fucking wall. I hate cute little bullshit parody names like that. But whatever, now you can shove Braveheart right up your ass for only $19.95 (+tax/shipping)

They claim to be adding more soon, and well that’s all fine and good but it is not the best thing they offer.

No. That would be: Custom buttplugs! Coming soon, their website proclaims. “Would you like to make a friend, family member or colleague into your very own Celebritybuttplugs? If so, you can email us a close-up photo of your personal superstar and we’ll create a Celebritybuttplug™ just for you.”

Oh sweet weeping Jesus.

“Celebritybuttplugs are fully functional adult novelty products. Each object has been signed and numbered by the artist. Celebritybuttplugs are hand built to exacting specifications using state of the art rubber and silicone. Celebritybuttplugs are created with the enthusiast in mind.”

Signed and numbered buttplugs!

This is a work of insanityGenius!

With this insanity, I thee wed… Xenu.

What with Tom and Katie getting supposedly married tomorrow I thought a look into their ceremony was in order.

So I looked.

They will be using a form of what is known as the “Traditional Ceremony” in Scientology. It has vows that Hubbard himself wrote in the 50s. Aside from the vows it seems like a perfectly “normal” ceremony.

But the Hubbard stuff… things he has… well here is part of the ceremony. Just a small part, with a line bolded because, oh my. You can find the whole ceremony if you want to but why would you want to? Anyway! On with the show!


Uncover and be still you present here in this, a holy place.

For we today shall marry here this groom and bride and wish them well.


You line of struggling life from eons gone to now for here again your track is sped and winged into a future fate by this a union of a man and bride whose child shall pace a further span of Destiny and Life.


For here shall be no calumny or whispered word against you, man or woman thou for this the union you contract does wipe away all sorrow of the past.
Speak out then now if any man or girl would speak and say here a reason why these two should not be wed.

And silence heard does speak out plain there’s none.

(Groom’s name), do you pledge to take this woman for your lawful wife?


Do you, (groom’s name), make promise here before us all to keep her well or ill?

Do you?


And when she’s older do you then keep her still? Do you?


Now, (groom’s name), girls need clothes and food and tender happiness and frills: a pan, a comb, perhaps a cat, all caprice if you will but still they need them.

Do you then provide?

Do you?


Hear well, sweet (bride’s name), for promise binds, young men are free and may forget.

Remind him then that you may have necessities and follies, too.

Now, (groom’s name)!


Do you, best man, possess a ring?

(Groom’s name), take it please and, (bride’s name), your hand will he enclasp.

We have it now.