It's not disturbing that these are clowns playing poker. It's not even disturbing that they are children. What is truly disturbing is what the HELL did they do with the fifth clown. 

Hero-iffic.

Group mother says ask dad. Dad scares me. No more trips to the mall. 

From the why the hell didn't I think of that Department

A great idea ! Send back junk mail

Delicious, delightful, dewonderful.

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NEISTAT BROTHERS: IT'S ONLY A GAME

NEISTAT BROTHERS: IT'S ONLY A GAME
Holy crap! Aluminum can do that?

Does she really get the fact that the game isn't meant for kids?

Hillary Rodham Clinton, Senator for New York: Statement by Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton in Reaction to Entertainment Software Rating Board Investigation of Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas

Hillary....please, please shut the hell up. The game was already rated mature, and any parent who was dumb enough to let their kid buy the game in the first place should have been aware that the content was not for those under the age of 17 to begin with. Censorship over responsibility....hmmm, now that is obscene.

Also, let's not forget the downloadables to make everyones favorite SIM family reveal pubic hair. And weren't a couple of frames of nekkidness slipped into an animated Mermaid movie?

Get over it.

Do Not Try this Alone

It said so right in the literature.

Now, I have smoked my fair share of marijuana and hash. I like it. It’s natural. My reluctance to LSD has always been that it is man made and that it is the result of some experiment gone astray. Plus, by not doing it, I can thumb my nose at all of the red-dressed-Nancy Reagan-clones who just say “no” and proclaim that marijuana is a gateway drug to bigger, badder things. Once again on that subject: Go to Hell.

Okay…so, now I have never tuned in, turned on, and dropped out. My bad.

You know what they say about curiosity though. Sure you do. You went to school in the same country as I did, right? Salvia Divinorum. Cat; let me introduce you to life outside of the bag.
I in no way encourage or endorse the use of Salvia. Though it is legal, natural and widely available, I believe that it could be dangerous if not treated with the proper amount of respect that it deserves. Miscue number one.

I bought the Salvia herb when I was back in my hometown, and I decided that I would try it when I returned to my new place later that weekend. I had known about the drug for a number of years, had seen it advertised on various websites and felt, based on my marijuana experience that I had everything under control. Salvia is not a substitute for marijuana. Miscue numero dos.

The biggest mistake was not having a guide with me for the experience. Salvia is widely used in rituals and as such there are usually a fair amount of observers who remain on the sidelines to assist the shaman or priest.

The experience only lasts a few minutes, but my perception of the experience made it feel like weeks had gone by. This perceived duration, as extreme as it seems, could be unique to me, but others have also reported a complete distortion of time. Cosmos surfing, anyone?

The onset of the experience was also frightening. Again, I had no reference for what was about to occur and smoked a fair “pinch” of the extract (Miscue number four: 20X strength extract, whereas most of what I had read was about pure extract of normal strength). Like marijuana, it is “impossible to overdose” on salvia.

I smoked the salvia as one would smoke a bowl. I held the smoke deep in my lungs for the roughly 30 or so seconds recommended. I do not recall exhaling. What actually happened next is pure conjecture based solely on my bruised and battered knees, but I am rather sure that I fell out of the chair in front of the computer.

The memories are a bit hazy and this seems fairly common to most reports. I remember a swirl of strobe effects not unlike the experience of phosphenes (press your palms gently against your closed eyes). The closed-eye light show was accompanied by a metronome-like ticking. At some point, the flashes of light took on “personality.” Each began to twist, shape and mold my body into what “they” desired as the perfect representation of “me.” The experience of the phosphenes overlapped the rest of the experience. At best, I would describe it as a simultaneous trip that was allowed to occur simply because time and space did not matter all that much. The lights were as annoying as they were informative. If I were to title this ballet, I would call it the Soup of Life. The purpose: to graphically illustrate the “zipping up” of the original strand of DNA that is me.

Overlap: Mitosis. DNA unzips and rezips itself repeatedly. It is the thing of life. It hurts. I became each of my cells. Aware of all of them and understood that some flake away, some get replaced and some are irreplaceable.

Overlap: Paranoia. Again, perhaps unique to me. I am a paranoid person by nature. This may have only been magnified by the drug. Somethings or someones began to kidnap these individual bits. Where they were dragging them I do not know because there was a final realization that amongst all of these cells, there was one and only one that was the true core of me-ness. That one refused to follow.

The visual experience of kidnapping was that of being turned completely inside out my toes were pushed up through my feet, ankles, shins, thighs, gut, throat ( at which point I felt as though I was being suffocated or drowning). As my feet began to emerge from my mouth, I felt as though I was on the brink of becoming aware. And what I was aware of was not pleasant. I could not stop the process; I could not speed the process; I was at the mercy of the process. This awareness provided me with one bit of relief: I could not hide, but I could hold onto that piece of “me,” inside out or not. The turning out did not end until my front tooth was the last bit to pop into inverted place.

Overlap: I was plagued by the idea that somehow there was a conspiracy that led me to the shop where I purchased the salvia. Those responsible were from this plane and “another” and had worked out a way to completely zap me from existence: past, present and future. Not only would I not continue to move forward in time, but all memory of me would be erased as well. I felt taunted by voices to submit to whatever there collective will demanded. I was given permission to do and be a myriad of things at their suggestion. None of which seemed remotely appealing. And I felt as though I were being “observed” alien-abduction style. The next day, when I was recounting my experience, I could only think of cheap knock-offs of Philip K. Dick stories.

Overlap: Just past the toes in the mouth experience, and persisting and coexisting throughout the rest of the experience was the sensation of drowning. Gurgling. Helpless. Arms flailed to pull me back to the surface of some golden lake. I could pull myself to the surface, gain half a breath and half a mouthful of liquid and I would be pulled under again. Each visit to the surface, I would briefly see a brown sun in a sepia tone sky. And I remember thinking that if I could only get one mouthful of that sun, if I could only bite into its surface, I could hang on for however long it took. I managed to get an arm up and around the sun to take that bite and felt my teeth pierce the surface. I locked on, and as the sun made it path through the sky it pulled me along, up and out of the golden lake.

Overall it felt as though I were dreaming several dreams all at once. I was “unseparated” from each.

It happened. It should not have happened alone. The final thought was simply that. Isolated and populated..

What people are really worried about.

Don't even try to think that I was making a fisherman connection here. Your brain will explode. I was just surfing is all. Really. 

Equal time for the Buddhist in you. 

WWJCD....What would Joseph Campbell do? Well, examine Christianity on an even terms with other religions, thats what. Apparently Christians get a bit miffed when treated as myths and metaphors. Easy to claim that the native cultures are based on silly superstitions and trickster myths, but when the clown shoe is nailed to the other foot, look out.

Silly Rabbit...Tricksters are...essential to any society...

They live among us...

Yes. Barbershop Quartets do still exist and no, they aren't as annoying as one might remember. I decided to treat myself to a dinner out this evening, mainly because I had to suffer through another visit from upper management and that is usually a horsekick to the psyche and I felt I deserved it...the treat not the horsekick. Now, downtown middle-America doesn't have as much to offer as downtown Seattle, San Francisco, Portland, Chicago or New York, so we take what we can get for entertainment. So it was a pleasant surprise when the Strolling Ole's came into the restaurant and serenaded us free of charge. They did two classics, but I only remember the Carolina in the morning one as I was desperately hungry and the waitress seemed kind of new and had to return five times because she forgot to ask things like side dishes and how would I like that prepared and oh, yes soup or salad. While the meal actually sucked...don't order seafood if you are 1700 miles from an ocean...the four part harmonies left me with a smile on my face and set my toes a-tapping. Cheers to you--you straw-hatted freaks!

Where are you going little clown?

Guns and clowns. Sadly, the point of this one is to kill clowns. But still worth the thirty seconds of your life that you will waste playing it.

Dating advice from a clown....well, I never!

Residents....nice...new album Animal Lover...cool.

Lunasigh: Brazilian space noise. Yummy.

Spidey 2

i don’t care about enough about spiderman anymore
i’ve got new highs to conquer
speeding isn’t just a bad habit for me
it’s a fucking way of life

i love passing that stupid
sales rep in his Volvo
his can’t buy a bmw no more
blues.

better yet, that dumb old lady
barely
head above wheel,driving the extremely
piped, 150 mph juicer
with enough go to blow by the bag of social security bought
catfood

she ain’t got no resistance to
gee
force her bladder
round another one of life’s yellow wet curves

so she

hauls the great grandson’s car for a trip beyond the wal
green’s geriatric strength
fiber in aisle four. . .

and i’ve absolutely got to marvel

at the impact a lone goddamned squad car
creates when a bunch of caffeine jazzed office temps, sales reps, late for work—
gotta make a dollar to pay the man====clockpunchers====
people who would be driving at least 15 em-pee-ache over the posted are
slowed to a fucking crawl by one goddamned blue n white toddling along in the fast lane
five miles under what jesus himself would have found absurdly slow==peak fucking morning rush hour, no less==and officer krupke is in no hurry to get to the dance at the gym==

like some freakish indy pace car, he just creeps along. watching
anticipation grow in the stack of trailing cars

No
one dares
pass==
yellow cautions waved and no one will risk getting black flagged for breaking order

my foot moves to the clutch
i can feel the bastard ready to pull off to the side
some coffeehouse pitstop
or a mid morning toss at mrs krupke

green flag drops and I am ready for that hole shot,
break from the ranks of the mediocre==
and get around that chickenshit motherfucker
who has tied us up for so long with his retired silver dream
Airstreamer
his pace adjusted just below acceptance of dear daddy
death

i am a concrete and yellow line superhero

spandex beneath tweed

captain America is somewhere else again…peterparker is staring at the streetlights below…

Klowns are all about the tattoos.

Cake vs. Pie

Shut your pie hole. Shut your cake hole. Equally offensive to just about everyone. Verdict: a tie.

Pies are nearly always round. Cakes can be round, square, layered or bundt. Advantage: Cake on sheer adaptability.

She’s my cherry pie. She’s my Strawberry Shortcake. Thin line between lust and pedophilia. Verdict: Pie...but still nauseating.


Ho-Ho’s, Ding-Dongs, Twinkies===>Cake

Hostess Fruit Pies===>Whoa be to those that don’t get that one right.

Moonpies========>Gotcha! Cake!

Cookies are tiny little dried up cakes; donuts are nihilistic cakes left empty inside; bismarcks, maple logs and honeymoons are the unholy offspring born out of the union of cake and pie.

Pie in the sky.
It was a cakewalk.

Fruitpie=====>Yummy!
Fruitcake====>Go away!

Cake can be cut into squares.
Pi R square (punssuck.com)

Birthday cake? or Birthday Pie?

(Pie)ce.....(Ca)ke

Soupy Sales: Pies in the face, always funny.
Bride stuffing cake up groom’s nose: cliche.
Wedding Pie: Funny again.

Tarts are closer to pies than they are to cakes.
Tarts, harlots, whores, pie.

Meat pie.
Meat cake.
Pot Pie.

Urinal cake.
Urinal Pie.

Pizza pie.
Pizza cake.

Eskimo Pie.
As american as...

American Pie.

Let them eat cake!
Let them eat pie!
Marie Antoinette might have kept her head had she encouraged more people to give a bit.

Make up is caked on before getting pie-eyed drunk.

Pumpkin pie. Carrot cake.

Pancakes. Potpies.

Macarthur Park is melting......

Cake eaters....gluttonous rich.
Pie eating contest....lonely gluttons.

Cake with ice cream.

Pie a la mode.

Clearly pies are superior.