I guess the more blogs I write, the chances increase that something will happen.

     But probably not....haha.

     I found this video on youtube the other day.  It's just great.  You ought to watch it.  There is no audio, but you can see that she is talking.  She is an incredible and sexy woman, and the video shows her taking off her clothes down to her bra and panties.  She is yummy to look at.

     What does this have to do with art?  Everything.  I guess it could come across that I am some kind of perv, but I am actually a heterosexual man interested in the female human body.  I like to explore all aspects of the human condition.  A sexy air stewardess with enormous breasts is a fantasy for a lot of men.  There is nothing that makes a flight better than a cocktail, a cigarette, and a sexy stewardess.  Now they have done away with smoking, and they have male flight attendants who come across as mostly gay to me, and that is no fun for me.  Traveling by air used to be so much fun.

     Anyhow, on my youtube channels, hardly anyone cares about the art videos I make, but if I put up some sexy girl, people will watch that. 
     My plan is to do enough of the sexy girl thing to get people interested in the other videos I make.  Hey, sex sells.  Just watching some old 'Price Is Right' footage...well, why did I watch that show as a kid?  The sexy babes, and I wanted to win.

     Anyway, I am having a nice day today.  I'm cooking up some veggies, and doing some painting.  Of course, I am sitting through mandatory band practice next door.  They are trying to do some emo hipster music kind of thing, but there are only two kinds of music, good and bad.  'Music' with a capital 'M' is a goddess that you must please, and she isn't going to be pleased for too long with the shit I am hearing.  Uh...ugh...well, first they have to learn their instruments and master them, then they have to become humble enough to write some good songs that people actually want to hear, and then they might have something.  With them, it is going to be a long time.

     How about another picture of the girl?  Okay, you talked me into it.
    

     Why is this art?  Look at her face.  It is.  I've seen that look in many comic books.  Where do you think the comic book artists get all this stuff from?  From pictures such as this.
     People get confused about art and photography.  For me, it all goes together now.  I used to pore through endless magazines to find the pictures that I wanted.  Now it is easy.  I got the web, and I got youtube.
     I love to take stills from youtube, because the images, and the moments I take the picture are mine.  It's as good as having the real model here.    I actually could make a painting or drawing just from this photo.  np.
     She does have a nice set of cans, I have to admit that.  Wow.  Nice.  I would like to see her naked.  Plenty of girls that look like her on redtube, haha, and they are getting fucked, too.
     This video is probably just the beginning of a porn movie before they get into it, haha.  It's fun to watch porn clips before the actual sex.  Just the set-ups are some great unintentional comedy.  The sex almost ruins it sometimes.
    
     Let's see, where was I?
     How about another picture?  Okay.

     The sex industry is huge in San Francisco.  That is the reality.  A lot of people in this city make their livings, both male and female, with sex related business.
     Then there is the regular office sexual tension, and people get laid, and have affairs, and cheat on their wives and husbands.  I know what goes on.
     I just think it is good to talk about it all, and to put the cards on the table.  I have nothing to lose, and I don't care.  It doesn't affect me what people do.  What I do certainly doesn't affect anyone.  Anything I do certainly doesn't affect how much money comes my way.  I'm going to have to change that.
     If it takes putting up big breasted women on my blog to get people to maybe read my stuff, then that is what I will do.  I don't care.

     Men love this shit.  Women love it, too, though they don't admit it readily.

     She is a really beautiful woman.  Just outstanding.
   

     It's okay if  'Victoria's Secret' or 'JC Penny' to show these photos, and it is weird when an individual does it...haha.  To me, there is no distinction.
     

     That's all the photos I took from that session, though there is a little more to the video.
     Somehow, the photos makes it really cool.  It freezes the significant moments of time, instead of the bodies always moving.
     I often think about the differences between still and moving images.
     As an artist, I have to nail the still image, and bring it to its tallest height or zenith.  I have to pick one.  It is an incredible burden to carry, because you never know what people will like.  You can spend a lot of time on something that no one will care about, and meanwhile, something you spend an hour on is what people will buy.  That's happened to me before.

     Anyhow, there is the blonde, big-chested and bosomed young woman for the day, and my she is delicious.  A day spent with her in bed would be heaven.

     For some guys, she would be considered a trophy wife.  That is how some men think.  Eventually, it does become about the fact that she is a real human being, with human feelings and emotions just like you do.

     Most men don't understand the depths of a woman's heart.  The river runs deep, guys...so don't fuck with something you don't absolutely love.

     Of course there is the great Sam Kinison line of, "If you don't love the pussy, then why are you fucking the pussy?"
     Well, it makes you think a little, but he banged Jessica Hahn, and she is a mess.

     Anyhow.  I guess that is enough for now.      

       

Good Morning, Sunday...someone may read this someday.

     I don't know what the date is, I don't even care, but I am a little curious, I guess.  I'll check later.  It's important to know what the date is, I suppose.  It helps with orientation.                                                                   I'm just sitting around listening to classic Howard Stern with Sam Kinison arguing with Bobcat Goldthwait.  It's just great radio, from 1988.  Easily available on youtube.  I'm too lazy to provide a link.  People need to learn how to use the computer, anyhow.
     Hey, I made another penny from this blog.  I'm up to 72 cents.  The idea came to start another blog, but I don't know what the hell I'd do.  Just maintaining this one is more than enough work for me.  I don't even know what I am doing with this one.  Maybe if I came up with a clever, cute idea, and just wrote about one subject, that would be better than being all over the place with this one. 
     But I have fun is my problem.
     First of all, I don't think anyone really reads this.  I don't even bother to read what I write, and I suppose I should go through every entry, and check for errors, and see if I can improve what I have written.  Writing is all about the rewrite and the revision.  If you don't do that, you ain't a writer.  It's all right if you are just dicking around, but yeah, if you want to be a real writer, you really have to make it so people understand what the hell you are saying.
     I have Howard going on, and I can't even think, maybe I should turn it off, so I can concentrate.
     I'll figure it out.

     Anyway, it is all turned off so I can think a little.  Captain Beefheart is dead.  There is another one dead and gone.  I was never into him or his music all that much, except for his association with Frank Zappa.  Beefheart did end up being a gallery artist, though, and did pretty well.  I was reading all about the Captain on wikipedia.  I acknowledge that C.B. made a contribution to both Art and Music, and that is commendable.  I still have to go through more of his music and art, before I can really comment.  It never really hit me about Captain Beefheart until I started listening to Frank Zappa's 'Hot Rats' album, and Beefheart did the voice on 'Willie The Pimp', then things started clicking, that maybe I should pay attention to Captain Beefheart.
     Thank god for youtube.  Now I can just go through his catalogue of songs at my leisure.
     I would kill to be a real artist like Captain Beefheart.  I have a long way to go, but I am trying every day.  It isn't easy.

     So what am I doing?  What am I writing about?  I don't know.  I just let it flow and happen.  I have no plan.

     One of my brothers has a blog.  He's made a dollar so far, probably from all the times I've visited it, haha, is what I think.  If he supported me on my blog as much as I support him on his, maybe I would have more than 72 cents.

     My family doesn't want me to write about them much at all.  No names mentioned or anything.  I don't know what I am supposed to do.  I guess just not mention them.  They are a big part of my life, though, so it puts me in a quandary.  Out of respect, I don't write about them, or talk about them on youtube, or anything, though I think that would be kind of fun.  I bet if I had a radio show and they had something to plug they would want to be on the radio show.
     They aren't too involved in my life at this point, anyhow.  It is kind of surface.  They mean well.  A couple of them wish I would go to church and repent or something.  It just ain't going to happen.  But that's how they see me.  The only reason they want me to go back to church is to make themselves feel better about what they do.  It's not for me, it's for them.  I ain't going to church for them.  They just hold me back from being free in my mind.  I have other places I want to swim besides 'Mormon Lake'.  It gives me the shivers just thinking about it.  Brrrrrrr.....
 
     Anyhow, I'm just trying to get some painting done today.  I've started.  I have problems with organization and not enough room for things.  It's a legitimate problem for me.  I have to solve it somehow.

     The Business Aspects of Art are too much for me to handle.  That's for other people.  I just make the art, but you know what?  I'm going to have to take care of that shit eventually.  No one is going to do it for me.  I have to toot my own horn.

     All I want to do is paint naked ladies.  I'm going to have to make some money so I can hire some models again.  Someday, I'll be sitting there with a glass of wine, a big canvas, and a big-titted model, and I'll just go to town with the painting.  Haha.  But I don't even need all that.  I can paint from the computer screen now, for free.  Nothing like having it live, though.

     I'm making some corn, broccoli, and carrot soup.  Mmmmm.  So damn good with some hot sauce.  I don't have any, but I could buy some next door.

     My sister and I did a video call for the first time.  That was really fun.  I'm glad we got it set up.  We talked about this and that.  She seems to be the only one besides me who really wants to get out there and do stuff.  I like that.  In this life, you have to make it happen for yourself.  No one will do it for you.

     My time will come someday.  In a way, it already has.  To be able to blog is a great development.  It's a long time since the printing press was invented, and now we have this.  It is great, even if no one reads this.

     But the truth is, even though someone might not read this today, they may tomorrow, or the next day.  You never know what can happen in this world.  So to actually write some decent material would be nice, it surely would.

     I've had all kinds of ideas what I could do on this blog recently.  I'll get around to it all eventually.  It takes time to get into the right mode, you know what I mean?  Good, because I don't.

     But hey, it's a good life.  All I need is a paycheck and I am set.  I will make that happen sooner or later.  I gotta live, you know.

     Let's see, do I have any pictures to show?

     I have a kitty.  That is something.  I drew this yesterday.  I like kitties.  They are nice, cute, and sweet.

     Just seeing that picture has kind of killed this blog, though.  I can't write any more on this entry after seeing this.   

     But yeah, someone may see this blog someday...oh no, I wonder what they will think?  It is difficult to try and suss that out.


    

I don't even know where to begin.

     I disappeared for twenty-six hours on a secret journey.

     I have returned and don't even know where to begin.

     City Hall is beautiful in San Francisco.  I like the red and green seasonal lighting.  To me, it is like a building for a red and green deck for Magic The Gathering.  I'm naive about politics.  I learn what I can, but it is not a main interest.  Politics are periphery for me for the most part.  They do affect me in ways I don't understand yet.  It is the feeling in the air that affects my art.

     I'm back in my studio.  I know I am here because the band has started up again, with another glorious rendition.

Same Fucking Bullshit ( but Steve Martin is mentioned in this blog. )

     I've never ever written a title of a blog or any English paper with a title such as that.  Yet, it is a pretty good title, and applies to a lot of circumstances.  I can't believe I never used it before.  A lot of English teachers are a little uptight, possibly, so that title wouldn't go over too well.
     Well, apart from locating Steve Martin's subliminal dick on the cover of his book, "Pure Drivel", see photo below, I'm having a good day.

     I had to draw in his penis where it was suggested, because it didn't photograph too well, but you can look at any copy of the book, and pretty much see the image of a dick in that exact location.  It's a ploy to sell books to consumers.  If you notice, and I am sure you have, the dick is in the wrong place, and it is a lengthy one.  Well, it is a tradition for male television hosts to stuff their trousers with a sock to appeal to female audiences, and women wear bras to make their breasts look rounder and fuller, so it is all a game, especially when it comes to appearances and selling.  Just how it goes.
     Is the book any good?  Yeah, it's good.  It is funny.  Charles Bukowski is a better writer, though.  I have a fondness for Steve Martin going back since childhood, so Steve is okay in my book. 
     My English teacher thought I could be reading something better than the 'Unauthorized Biography of Steve Martin' but that was a very rich and compelling book.  I still remember a lot of it, little details of his life that I can throw out at cocktail parties, and impress people with my knowledge about Steve Martin, like how he worked as a magician at Disneyland.
     Anyway, Steve is cool, and if you add an 'a' to 'Martin', you get 'Martian'.

     Cocksuckerblimeyfartcuntasswhorebananafrizzle.  Just thought I'd throw that out.

     Fuck, it always comes back to Art Buchwald.  I read several of his books of his collected newspaper columns in ninth grade.  He was funny, humorous and light.  Howard Stern has become my main Jew since then.

     Uh....okay, here is a close-up of the Steve Martin photo.

    Well, that's the publishing world for you.  I sensed something was wrong when I was looking at the cover yesterday, and finally found what subconsciously bothered me.  Go ahead, look at the book cover.  It is there without my pen line.  It's a simple trick, a variation of an eraser on a newspaper photo, but there is a long schlong in that location on the cover of 'Pure Drivel' is all I am saying.  There is a strange bulge on the inside of his right leg at the crotch, anyway, even if they hadn't put in a long member. 
     These advertisers have images all down to a science.  They flash little things in commercials so fast, it is, "What the hell did I just see?"

     The adveertisers pretty much don't want their commercials to be on youtube, because then people can see how they are manipulated. 

     Anyway, there's my rant about advertisers.  I just want people to be aware of how it all works, so they are not so easily swayed by shit.

     Steve is a smart guy.  I'm sure he knows his dick is on the cover of this book, unless his eyesight has gone bad.  He's a busy man.  He doesn't have time to see if his hot dog is on the cover of his book.

     Hey man, you gotta do what you need to do to sell books.

     I think I bought 'Pure Drivel' for a $1 off of a homeless man who had presumably stolen it, so my copy is a 'hot book'.

     'The Man with Two Brains', his cover on The Rolling Stone...yeah, yeah...But then I started liking him again when he hosted The Academy Awards. 

     But I can't do 'The Pink Panther' thing.

    

"Fuck, Motherfucker!"

     Okay, so those were the first words that came to my mind when deciding upon the title of this blog.  I said, "Why the fuck not?  They are as good as words as any."
     I have 512 hits on this blog, 400 of those hits are by me.  Actually, I am not really sure.
     Why do I blog?  I don't know.
     I was just reading Steve Martin's 'Pure Drivel'.  I haven't picked up that book in years.  I still haven't finished it.  He's not a bad writer, and he is pretty funny.  When I first saw an article of his in 'The New Yorker', I wasn't sure it was actually him, but it was goofy enough that it might actually be him, but I was still confused that he was writing for The New Yorker.  I didn't understand, nor could I comprehend that he could write.  He could tell jokes, and play banjo?  Ok, I could accept that, but write, too?  It seemed unfair.  God had given Steve Martin a 'Four of a Kind', and I only got an 'Ace with 7 High'.  The universe was indeed cruel.  Later I found out that The Universe actually didn't care.  It was into its own thing.
     Steve Martin is lucky.  He has a lawyer that helps him get paid.

     I suffered through another band practice today.  So much work into sounding so shitty.  It doesn't seem worth it.
     The guy practicing electric guitar right now is sounding better than normal.  He is starting to learn riffs from classic songs.  Nice to hear something familiar.  I don't think he knows enough about how music actually works to write his own stuff that actually sounds good.  I don't know anything about music, either, but I'm not the one playing the guitar real loud.
    
     I gotta take a shit.  I'll be back.

   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     I feel much better.  Just terrible giving more information than people need to know, I know.  I wonder how I would feel if a writer just said he had to take a shit?  I guess I wouldn't give a fuck.  Everyone does it.  But why mention it?  I don't know.  Why the hell not?  I mean, does anyone really give a fuck anyway what I write on this goddamn stinking blog anyhow?  I think not.  Most blogs in this world remain unread.  It is mostly for the people who write them. 
     I've taken to use the blog in the same way that I would when writing for myself on my manual typewriter, my preferred writing instrument.  Actually, the ball point pen is my favorite thing to write with.
     Anyway, I just do my writing, and worry about the damage later.
     The guitarist is still going at it with his practice, so it makes it hard for me to think.  I can play my own music on youtube, and have that blast out to cover theirs up, but then that gets distracting, too.

     I had a nice lunch today at the Chinese place.  Sweet and Sour chicken.  I hadn't had that for a while.  I had tea and soup, too.  That was good.

     They have a new 'Coin Pusher' machine at the tobacco store.  I am fascinated by that thing.  I actually won $1.25.  I had made a profit of a quarter.  Then I pumped it back in.  I would love to win that $20 bill that is sitting near the edge.  It is a very clever machine.  Someone is very clever who invented that thing.  'Coin Pusher' machines are legal in the State of California.

     Life is a gamble, anyway, so why not gamble, right?  That's how most people think.

     I had a nice nap today.  It felt good.  I needed it.  My yoga classes of the last two days knocked me out.  Sometimes the classes give me energy to do stuff until three in the morning, sometimes it is right to bed.

     I made the video of my friend Chris Packer's artwork using Iron Maiden music.  It came out good.  I'm happy with how it turned out.

     My siblings don't like me to talk about them to other people, on youtube, or blogger...I mean, what siblings?  Haha.  I don't have any.
     Maybe I'll just make up a fictional family that I came from.  I can have three brothers who will be composites of the real ones, then I will have one sister, and say we all grew up in an atheistic household.
     It was actually a pain growing up Mormon, always having to go to church, when the other kids would drink beer and watch football games with their dads, or go water-skiing, or camping.  As a kid, you don't know that the whole thing is just made-up.  Everything.  Even God.  It is all made-up.  The whole fucking, motherfucking thing.  I can't believe it, but it is true.  The whole thing is made-up.  What a hoax.  A very successful one at that.  Jesus.

     I did watch the very first episode of South Park, the first one ever made, with Santa vs. Frosty.  I had never seen that one.  I saw Jesus vs. Santa, and then the very first episode where Cartman gets an Anal Probe, which is still a pretty good episode.
     Who knew that South Park would become such a cultural institution?  I read the whole wiki article on 'South Park' yesterday.  It was updated since the last time I read it a year ago.
      Trey and Matt are pretty much at the center of the political spectrum.  In the beginning, I thought they leaned towards the left, but they are right dab in the middle, which allows them to make fun of both sides, and of everything.  They've done very well.  They pretty much get an 'A' on their report card.  The episodes have improved steadily over the years, and just when it seemed like South Park had hit a wall, they kept going and going.  I'm a fan, I can't get enough of that shit.  I can usually watch a new episode two or three times before I put it on the shelf for a while, to have a look at it again later.
     Watching the first episode again means that I have begun the cycle of watching them all over again from start to finish.  The problem with the South Park website, is that they don't have the original intros that were shot for the VHS release of the episodes, which only had two episodes per tape, plus twenty minutes of Comedy Central commercials.  No one fucking watched Comedy Central before South Park.  I thought the network was a joke.  They are doing just fine now, motherfuckers, fuck.  Anyhow, so they don't have those intros, and they have all of those motherfucking commercials, including the new one for Axe with a new cleaner for your balls.  Mankind has survived millions of years without a ball cleaner.

     So, fuck.  The day started getting onto Free Realms, and a friend was there, so I used my Power Hour to talk to her, which was fine, but I didn't make any money on the video game today, and I need all the money I can get on that game to buy all the shit I need.
     Run-on sentences are fine these days.  It's all about what you want to do.  Who gives a fuck as long as you like it?  English teachers be damned.  Actually, it is all around how English is used these days.  Big companies are mis-spelling words on purpose to appeal to consumers.  I hate it, it is ugly, to be so cheap.  So people like me are offended, but it must work since they keep doing it.  It is all about money.  Sad, that is all it is about after all.
     They are playing a couple of Police covers now, but it is out of the range of the vocalist, who I hate so much.  I don't think he has a good enough voice to get anywhere no matter how much he practices.
     I can't hit a note if I was paid to do so.  That's my problem.  But I can draw like a son of a bitch when I need to, I guess that is something.
     Now what?  I don't know.  Kind of hard to read when I got the racket coming in through the walls.
     I pretty much got everything off my chest for now.  Writing a piece is like getting to the next plateau.  I'm actually at the edge of my creativity.  I've done all I can think of with video making, I've pretty much done everything I wanted to do.  The only thing to do is more until someone notices.  I try and come up with new stuff all the time.  I haven't yet written a script for any of it.  Maybe I should.  No one that I know of will appear in a video with me, haha.  Fine, I'll just do fucking everything myself.  I don't blame them, a lot of my stuff sucks, I can't help it.  Part of it is art, part is therapy, I can't help it.  Maybe someday I'll do something good.  It takes time.
     I guess I can always do some painting.
     Hey, I didn't even put a picture on this blog yet.  What's the point?  No one reads this anyhow, and printing pictures is a recent phenomenon anyway.  Even in books they didn't do it much. 
     I always wanted to read a regular novel, and then for no reason at all, it just goes into comic book form for a couple of pages before returning to the novel, but most writers can't draw too well, and most artists can't write too well, as you can see for yourself, haha.
     Ok, I'm done, I can't concentrate on this shit anymore.  Besides, I can always fix it later.

I don't know what I'm doing

     I'm just sitting around doing nothing.  I watched South Park with 'Coon and Friends' starting with the first appearance of 'The Coon'.  It's just great stuff, with all the storyboard comic book panels.  It just makes me want to do stuff like that, but, I can't do it as good.  Plus, I need to learn how to use 'Flash' better, get good at writing scripts, making storyboards, and doing the work of thirty people to put together some animation...but then...no one will watch it...uh...yes, they will..no they won't.
     So, I got problems, and I must confront my greatest fears.
     Damn, that is a lot to deal with.

     I don't even have a picture that describes how I feel right now.
 

     Here is a picture.  This will do for now.  :)

     Dang, there is something I should have done a couple of weeks ago, and I missed my opportunity to do it today because I was watching South Park, and wasn't mentally prepared to do it, even though I had the time to do it.  What I had to do, I had to be in the right frame of mind for, some unpleasant business thing.  But now my mind is prepared for it.  I'll do it tomorrow, and try and be free today, and relax about it.  But I can't exactly, and I just want to lay down and take a nap.  But I have things to do.
     I want to drink a beer, but not really.  The idea just sounds good, but it really isn't that good of an idea.  I have class later on.
     No need to go to yoga class with alcohol on my breath, haha.
   
     I get confused by shit.  Family shit.  What it amounts to is it gives me a real good reason to do some science fiction stuff which is completely made-up, and to not base things on anybody that is real or dead.  They don't like being talked about, and why should they?  Some people are fascinated by my family, though, I know I am.  It's all fucked up a little, but it is getting funnier.  It sucks when the others bring me down, and it must suck when I bring them down.  I'll try not to do that.  It is important to have a sense of humor about things.

     I'll have to come up with some original content.  Not easy to do.  Takes time.  I want to own what I do.
     Viacom owns South Park.  At least Trey and Matt get to do what they want, but they are under contract.  I like that they have lawyers they can ask what is and isn't legal for them to do on the show.  They know what lines they can cross, and what they can't.  They would get dirtier and nastier and more graphic if they could, I think.  They inch their way towards it all the time.
    They did cross a line with episodes '200' and '201'.  Some people didn't find those episodes funny, though most did in fact love those ones.  The point is that they are still not available to watch, and that sucks.

     Well, I don't have a job still, and that sucks.  I wonder what I am going to do?  Jobs are a waste of time for me.  Just doing the mindless crap that others don't want to do.  I spent a lot of years doing brain-dead shit, and I don't know what the point of it all was except to financially scrape by.
     I am a product, and I am capable of doing a job.  I just have to find something that I am suitable for.  Things have changed.  I'm older.

     I spent four years washing dishes in a cafe.  That was dumb in retrospect, but I didn't know what else to do.  I met a lot of nice people, though, so that was cool.

     The banks are getting bigger and more powerful, like a Godzilla.

     Individuality is being reduced to rubble.

     What is it all for?  Greed.  Human beings can be something else than what corporations want us to be.  However, we are all pawns in someone else's game plan.  It will always be that way.  The over-riding thread is to conform, or they will make you conform.  They wear you down eventually, gradually.  Water and wind erodes you little by little, until you have nothing left.
     For someone like me, I have to prove my worth in some other way.  I have to show that I have value, that I am worthwhile to someone else.  That I am capable of providing a service that contributes to the over-all well-being.  That I can pay taxes to the powers that be.  That I can be assimilated.
     The struggle has been to define myself, and not be defined by others.  It's called taking a stand.  The family defines you, and keeps you there.  But I rebelled.  I don't care.  I played their game, and then there is nothing left for me.  That is no fun.

     So now what?  I don't know.  Do some painting, I suppose.

I like the rain

     Of course it is much nicer when you have a home to get all snuggly and warm in.  I'm glad I do.  Being out there with no place to go sucks.  I've been there.  Which makes me think that people without homes or a place to stay on days like this, well, you think they would  reach a point where they say, "I'm sick of this shit!  I want a place to live and a nice little oven to cook a nice warm meal on."  But if you are on drugs, it fucks up your thinking, and you only think about your next score.  So that is why they stay homeless...well, part of the reason.  It is complicated, I suppose.  All I know is I never want to be without a home ever again.
     Anyway, having trouble.  No I'm not.  I'm just concerned about the general population who make youtube comments don't seem to know the difference between their, they're, and there.  That is a lot of people who weren't paying attention in class that day.
     I like the song "Rain" by The Beatless.  I like to call them that sometimes.  I listened to a good, loud, clean version of 'Across The Universe' by John Lennon, and it made me cry.  His voice can send shivers down my spine, or make me feel things.  I can listen to music all day, but his voice gets me sometimes.  When he sung, "Oooooooh" in "She Loves You" I wonder when all the girls screamed after that if his voice had tickled some gutteral part of them.  I bet there were a lot of wet panties after a Beatles concert.
     I actually have to get out of here.  I have a Magic The Gathering card game to get to, and I'm just sitting here dicking around.  I don't know if anyone reads my blogs, but I like to practice my writing.  Use it or lose it.
     I saw some great stuff on youtube today.  Lots of good music.  Youtube is a great resource.

     I gotta get out of here.

     I would completely write about naked ladies and sex if I was sure if I could put naked pictures here.  I don't know if I am allowed, so that is why I don't do it.  The pictures help me to write, and gives me something to write about, so it is hard to write about sex if there are no pictures to work from.  Suddenly all I feel like writing about is pissing and urinals.  

     Great blog, David.  I don't care.  I'm in the editing stage of this blog.  Usually, I don't fix them.  This is a pretty fucked up entry.  All over the place.  I don't care.  Who cares?  Not me.
     It was a good night at the card game, we had some laughs, but the piano devestator continued his streak of ruining our games with his slamming piano.  Ugh.

     Hey man, I sip my lemonade.  It feels good to drink lemonade.  It tastes real good and tart.  I just want to lay down soon, though.

     No one may read my blog anytime soon, but they may someday.  You never know.

     I talked to one of my former models at the bar.  She's a sweet girl.  I've drawn her naked many times.  I miss that.  She was a good model, and a very pleasant person.  She had large, bulbous breasts for a short girl, I used to love to draw her.  A nice caboose, too.  Dang.  I got to get back into a figure drawing class, haha.  I can draw anything I want from the computer screen now, but it isn't the same as seeing it live.

     I wonder what I am doing right now, or what my plans are?  Hmmm, I'm not sure exactly.  I'm 43 now.  Reading a book seems like a good idea.