Pork Parker

Dueling Banjo Pigs is a great site with all sorts of drawings of pigs playing banjos. This is a drawing I did after I first saw it and then forgot about for awhile. But I just sent it in today. You should check out the site and draw something yourself.

Moving

The blog is going to be on a little bit of a hiatus because I'm moving.

Someone I Almost Know

Is This It? (the 200th post!)

Don't get me wrong. I have an Ipod. I have Memorex earbuds. I've got my playlists.

The running playlist:Beat City by the Flowerpot Men, Go! (club mix) by Tones on Tail, Ever Fallen in Love (with someone you shouldn't've) by the the Buzzcocks, Body Movin' (Fatboy Slim remix) by the Beastie Boys, I Get Wet by Andrew W.K., and 138 other songs.

The Sunday morning mix: Ghost by Neutral Milk Hotel, Grounds for Divorce by Wolf Parade, All I Want by Joni Mitchell, and sixty-three others.

Multiple dance mixes: Renegade Master by Wildchild, Train by Goldfrapp, Little Secrets by Passion Pit, Dance Wiv Me by Dizzee Rascal, Funkytown by Lipps Inc., Filthy/Gorgeous by Scissor Sisters, and so many others.

Got the most played: Flourescent Adolescent by the Arctic Monkeys (this surprises me).

Got the recently added: Fancy Footwork by Chromeo.

Got a whole bunch of songs on there that I haven't listened to even once: Youth Gone Wild by Skid Row, Get By by Talib Kweli, There Are Very Tiny Beasts in the Ground by We Are the City, Drop Dead Legs by Van Halen, and too many others.

I walk down the street with my ears all blocked up. I sit on the subway and tune everyone else out. The buds are in my ears as I fold my clothes at the local laundromat. Still, I think it's anti-social and I really don't know what to make of it when I see people who are clearly together wearing separate headphones. Just too strange.

7:45 A.M. on a Tuesday

This is post number one-hundred-and-ninety-nine. Crazy. What's the proper celebration for two hundred blog posts? A cake? A good bottle of wine? A good bottle of whiskey? Suicide? A phone call to every ex-girlfriend ever? A walk down the street with my ass hanging out?

Too Cool

And speaking of walking with your parents, my mom is in town for a conference and today just happens to be her birthday. I'm taking the day off work and showing her around Boston (and possibly avoiding a few thunderstorms).

Keep 'Em On

I'm not sure when my aversion to sunglasses began, but I have a feeling it has to do with Tom Cruise. Risky Business, the aviators in Top Gun, he wore them all through Rain Man. I always think of him as wearing sunglasses. Somewhere really early I on I decided I wasn't a fan of Tom Cruise. I know using the word phony makes me sound like Holden Caulfield, but Tom Cruise is a phony. It's just so painful for me to watch him act. He's good at the cocky asshole part, but once he tries to get serious it's just terrible.

So in my mind I think it works like this: Tom Cruise = phony. Tom Cruise = sunglasses. Therefore, sunglasses = phony.

I should be more mature.

Hothothot

Hot. Cold showers. Scorching. Fans on full blast. Stifling. Open every window. Sizzling. Head to a coffee shop for some air conditioning. Steaming. Flip flops. Hot. Cold water in the face. Hot. Sweat damp shirts. Red hot. Shorts. Sweat. Hot. White Hot. Blistering.

Doofus

Doofus. What a good word. Dolt. Ignoramus. Dunce. Blockhead. Clod.

Lummox!

These have to come back into common usage.

Shorts

Not that I am complaining.

And with the weather like it's been the last few days in Boston you need to be wearing the minimum amount of clothes possible. Forget long sleeve shirts. Forget blue jeans. Forget socks. Forget it all. It is too hot!

Maybe I'll get me some short shorts.

Or maybe I'll just listen to some Prince Buster.

Mr. Fantastic

It's been awhile since I drew any dancing superheroes, so here's Mr. Fantastic: Reed Richards. The rest of the Fantastic Four coming soon.

Clarity of Language

So I drew somebody else dropping, "you know," every other word, but it could just as easily have been me. In fact, there have been stretches where I have basically said only, "I don't know," over and over again (changing inflection of course)(I don't know)(I don't know)(I don't know)(I don't know)(I don't know). It's amazing how clumsily people speak. English is this huge language rich with wonderful words (scintillating, obsequious, salacious, lascivious, dexterous... to name a few adjectives), and yet so often it seems like I speak in such an inept manner. I'm not alone. Eavesdrop on any conversation. It can be brutal.

You know?

And check out these drawings. They're splendiferous.