Hello, and good afternoon to my invisible readers. I would have to assume that people have just stumbled upon my blog by accident. It would be weird to think that someone is following every word I write, those kind of thoughts make me paranoid. I don't even follow what I write. My writing when I read it makes me cringe because it is so personal, and I'm too close to it. I write it, expel it from my consciousness, and move on. Later, I stumble upon my own writing, and sometimes make corrections, or rethink things, but that is not often.

I just watched a lecture from UCLA on Differential Calculus. I enjoy college lectures on my computer. I can listen at my own pace. Sometimes I lay down in my bed late at night and fall asleep to lectures. I listen to words and concepts as I drift off.
The professor did an okay job. A little heavy, I noticed right away he was short-winded. But hey, he has a PhD, so who am I to say? Plus, he's making a better salary than I am capable of earning.

Yeah, that would be odd to think if a cop, or an FBI agent was reading what I write. Or maybe a CIA dude, haha. Most likely nosy people who have some time on their hands. I know someone has looked at my blogs, gee, I wonder who. It's not that important anyway, just fun to think about.

I have it in me, it looks like, to write one blog a day. Unless I have something more to say later in the day, one blog is enough to satisfy my need to write in a public space such as this, available to anyone to read if they choose. I can only hope that I would be entertaining enough to keep someone reading.

I haven't quite figured out how to play around with the blog medium yet, and have fun with it. I haven't read many blogs at all, I don't get much out of reading other people's stuff. I am subscribed to no other blogs. Maybe I will if someone peaks my interest. I follow one blog on myspace, this woman is a talented writer and researcher, so I enjoy her writing. She puts some real work into her text. I would doubt she would enjoy my blog much, I just write whatever comes to mind like most people.

I'm starting up some EverQuest. I like to kill in a video game context. That's almost the whole point of these games. Get it all out of my system, though, even in the game, no one really dies. Wish it was like that in real life.

Just hearing last night at the bar what some cops had to go through over the weekend doesn't really make me feel like being a cop. Someone told me that a cop starting out in Oakland can make $75,000 a year. Nice salary. It can't be fun working that beat.

I always liked cops, I had a friend whose father was a cop. I grew up thinking, however, that cops were my friends. Nope. They are just doing their job.
Cops always look at me when I'm outside smoking a cigarette, thinking I am up to something. Nope, just taking a break from my writing in the cafe.

It is a strange world.

Uh, it is fun to think that I am a broadcaster. I do my youtube videos, my blogs, my facebook posts. I am doing a lot of electronic publishing. I don't know what will happen with all of that. I could only dream that I would actually build up an audience of some kind. I started youtube from scratch, and someone out there eventually watches every video I do. That's nice, a good feeling that someone takes the time to watch my stuff. I hope I don't disappoint. I do my best. I can do better, takes time. Plus, I like doing what I want to do, whether it will be popular or accepted or not. I can't care about that. People can only deal with so much reality, then they need something to escape with. For me, it's porn, though lately, I've forgotten to look at it. When my world is flat like a dry and barren desert, and I feel that something is wrong, like there is no life in me whatsoever, as if life is a bowl of bad oatmeal, then it is time to see some good asses and some tits bounce around, haha.
They did a poll some years back, and they asked, "What makes you most happy?" And a majority of people said, "Porn". Haha.
Of course, it is really difficult to watch porn for a long time, because it gets boring and tedious, and enough is enough.
Often after watching porn, I'll just look at a cartoon or something, or forget I even looked at it.

I don't think any of my family members would bother to read this blog, they barely have time to think and consider about my artwork. In a way that's good, no need for them to read my blog.
They like some of the stuff I do, though they don't necessarily agree with some of my ideas, but that isn't my problem. I don't agree with some of theirs.
As people, I like my family, and glad we're all here. Too bad Dan is dead, sucks.

I'm sure I'll get some bad band music some time today.

I shot a video at the Outdoor Coffeeshop Office. I'll possibly post it today.

I need to go to the store and buy some food. I'm hungry.

I'm going to try and get some painting done today. I have lots to do.

Public and Private Space? That's been a theme for ten years. What is public? What is Private? How are the boundaries between public and private space eroded?

Strange to marry a woman who would blab to her girlfriends about our marriage and relationship. That is why there are no secrets in this world. Everyone finds out eventually about everything you do. They can tell a lot from your speech. Anything you ingest eventually comes up in conversation, anyone you fuck, you eventually tell someone, all part of the fun, I suppose. It is natural to tell people what you do.

Everyone eventually confesses.

I read in the paper today that an off-duty police officer was in a fatal car crash. That sucks.

People's homes destroyed in Southern California by mud slides. Painful.

It never ends, just when you get your life in order.

I've been lucky enough to escape calamities for sometime now.

"Hi!" just in case anyone reads to this point. I doubt it. Why would they? I don't know. They'd have to be pretty nosy about me, and what I do. I doubt the writing is that interesting.

It is funny to me to just go on and on with this blog just to see where it goes, and where my mind wanders off to.

Eventually, I do get influenced by the environment where I am, that is why I like to write in different places, it lends itself to other kinds of writing.

I wrote a little short story today, that was fun.

It is nice when you have a picture, and you make up a story that goes along with it.

The drummer next door just started up. He isn't even as fourth as good as Zak Starkey, Ringo's son, who played with The Who yesterday during the stupor bowl.

I guess one problem I have in the studio is 'where do I put my keyboard so I can actually play it?' Hmmm. It's a thinker. It still works well, and I could hook it up to my amp. I'll figure it out once I get this room cleaned up, takes time to know where to put things.

The drummer, and why he is bad, is he tries to get too fancy, instead of just keeping steady beats. He is all over the place, and it gets annoying to listen to. And you gotta be really good to work a double bass pedal to make it sound good.

It would be fun to drum, I always wanted to, but never could afford a drum set. Now I just don't know where I would fucking put the damn thing.

It would be fun to pound on some drums once in a while. Someday. I have to sell a lot of paintings first, which is what I got to do. Been trying to do that for twenty years. It's amounted to a whole lot of nothing. I've been influenced by a lot of European artists, and that doesn't help much here in 'America', whatever that means.

It would be nice to get some presentable work together, that's always been my problem.

Takes a long time to make art.

I hope M. calls. That would be nice.

Magic last night was difficult with the loud piano playing. Hard to concentrate. And we only got four games in over three hours. It got to be very challenging and tedious the last game, it was just going on and on, and the game didn't go anywhere, and I don't like to sit in chairs for too long and be tortured with tedious prospects.

All's well that ends well.

Wow, did you read all the way to this point? I find that amazing.