hey guys-
as a note of tact, don’t email your girlfriend to tell her you just got stitches.
FOR ANY REASON.
A phone call is much more personal, and will be be easier on her psyche if she can hear that you’re okay.
*sighs*
I don’t care if Rudy has stitches, I’m gonna kick his ass tonight.
Sorry I couldn’t post when I got back.
I got back Sunday night, recuperated all Monday and had to hop on the crazy-mad project that is recreating ALL the product images for all the items we carry at RMCD… That’s a LOT of images. We’re probably nearing 5000 products. Battening of the Hatches ensued.
Anyway.
I have some images. And some things to remember when you camp.
As dutifully shown here- do NOT take pictures of people AS SOON AS THEY LEAVE THEIR TENT… especially before they have had their morning caffeine. ESPECIALLY when camping. That picture could have been way nicer if I was given a few minutes… but I look like I just rolled off a park bench. I don’t even think I have a bra on there. Thanks Dad.
When someone offers you sunblock, put it on. Don’t think it will make a clever picture, becuase while it will, it also means you may very well be getting burnt. Which I did. Which I am paying for. Bright Sun+ fair irish skin= sunburn followed by extensive peeling. yuck.
Since there is no TV, bring stuff to do. otherwise you’ll be trying to make fire With your bare hands ( we tried) feeding stray rodents ( we did, at risk of THE PLAGUE!) and generally annoying the crap out of your campmates. Here we can see the tools of our entertainment- booze, liars’ dice and cards. Everytime someone lost a game (we even played speed and crazy eights!) the loser had to shoot.
Also- bring shot glasses. There is a REASON bartenders aren’t allowed to drink on the job.
Bring a hammock. Your sore-from-sleeping-on-the-ground back will thank you for it. See- Doesn’t that just look fuckin’ AWESOME?! Yeah. And beer. That ice chest is full of beer. he didn’t move for 2 hours.
Keep your food put away. Ice chests, trunks of cars, whatever. Little plague-carrying shits had NO shame. They stole food from MY DOG, while he was laying two feet from his bowl! Little shits. Couldn’t even wait for us to open the peanut bag- ripped a hole right in it. Fucking chipmunks. and Stellar’s Jays can kiss my ass too. Fucking foul-mouthed bastards waking me up like a damn alarm clock with all that screaming…
When you want your dad to stop talking to you about how he doesn’t want some n***** in office and all the Mexicans need to go home ( while Rudy stands slackjawed and laughing), put your head in a book and pretend you’re so involved in reading you CAN’T EVEN HEAR HIM. That shuts him up real fast. Crazy old man.
And go for a hike. Hide for a while. That’s why you came out here, isn’t it? Enjoy the silence.
It wasn’t REALLY, but sure felt like it.
It was great and awesome and totally made me feel like a youngun’…
So- without further ado-PICTURES!
Friday: we Saw Shooter Jennings at the Catalyst.
Actually, we first saw him while we were buying a Burrito for Dinner at Taqueria Vallarta (two words-amazing burritos!). We weren’t sure it was him until we saw the six-shooter tattoo on his left arm and he told us to go ahead of him in line, that rumbling southern drawl convinced us.
A less rowdier show than most I’ve attended, we got seats in the balcony cause we didn’t want to stand the whole time. But this show was one of the BEST. Shooter is Waylon Jenning’s son, and when he hits the big notes, he sounds just like his daddy. I hope that makes Shooter proud. Also- when he opens his mouth real wide, he reminds me of Dr. Teeth from the Muppets. Can’t see him so well here, but dood wears colored aviators all the time. If you can remember Walk the Line, when Johnny is trying to call June and that stringy-haired hippie-lookin’ guy tells him the phone’s been shut off? That’s Shooter playing Waylon.
The ShitKickers from Santa Fe opened for him, they’re a good band a well. Rowdier than I would have expected form a seven-piece ensemble with a banjo, fiddle and a washboard, but they still pervaded with a bevy of slow songs with choruses that you could sing along to.
After Shooter, we went to a bar and just shot the shit with Rudy’s cousin while we ate more than we should have after midnight.
Saturday, we went Bicycle shopping.
My new cute little ride! I plan on using it all summer. I adore it. I’ve been calling it Allie Gator. I’ve also been getting Cash acclimated to running beside it while I ride- he seems to really like running! Whee!
Rudy’s Cousin’s little Boy turned one. the kid is the spitting image of his pop, and he’s a Riot. Him and my godson are the two reasons why I’m wondering when a good time would be to pop out a squib of my own. And then I slap myself some sense and I come out of it mostly unaffected.
And a bunch of 1 year olds can’t POSSIBLY beat the crap out of a pinata, so the older kids and intoxicated adults took their chances. Curious George did NOT come out the winner.
However, many of us took turns wearing the skin of his face for shits and giggles.
Sunday was spent playing with our new bikes and me working soem overtime at home to complete my Big Sky project. woo.
AND!
AND!
I tried the Mountain Dews. I’m not a food-reviewer kind of person, but I love Mountain Dew and Sodas are a serious weak spot for me.
Revolution is THE best new Mountain Dew. I tried them all, and that’s my fave. I’ve heard comparisons to pitch black-I can see that. Er, taste it. It’s as good as we’re gonna get, I guess. I tried to express my love for the lost Dew, but Rudy Blew me off. I guess HE didn’t like it. Psh.
Supernova doesn’t have enough flavor to be considered FLAVORED- tastes like fizzy Vitamin Water. I was really pushing for this one to be the best, but I was overly disappointed. I really wanted to like it.
Voltage statses like melted berry popsicle. Takes the flavor of a popsicle and none of the slush. It’s also got a sourness to it-I have a severe aversion to sour stuff so this one loses a few points.
So, that’s that for now. I’m sure more will come, but for now, that’s what i got.
*dances*
Mystie Sent Me a PACKAGE!
I was thinking she didn’t even know i existed- and yet… not only does she know I exist, she technically KNOWS WHERE I LIVE! And stuff that was in her house, is now in MY house! I believe I even have an item that is IN ONE OF HER ARTICLES!
*squee!*
Let me show you the schwag I scored!
Okay, i made individual notes of what the COOLEST items were, but some of the more mundane items included:
So that was the “normal” stuff. Some stuff warranted more than Bullet Points, so I took their individual piccies for in-depth discussion.
Hologram Kitty Stickers!
These are SO BLINKIN’ RAD! They’re like living LOLcats, only there’s no words. I kept thinking, how the HELL DID SHE KNOW I LIKED CATS?! And then I remembered… I’m Kittymao. D’er. Yo Soy Retardo. I don’t know where I’m gonna put them. I thought about carrying them with me and decorating random bathroom stalls I encounter. But that’s what Sharpies are for.
Awesome Party Favors Circa 1986
I saw these and the FIRST THING I thought of was- These are from Zorn’s! I just knew it! Well, on second though I’m not really sure, but I’ll pretend they are and be happy! Rudy saw them and remarked how he always thought Teela was hot. I didn’t tell him my thing for Man-At-Arms, and it’s probably for the best. However, the idea of dressing like a certain Serpent lady for Halloween has been rekindled…
DarkWing Duck Magnifying Glass
I remember this show, and I do diefinitely recall its dark, pulpy feeling to it. I enjoyed it, but was no mega-fanatic. I DO know, that Mystie has a major love of this show, and for her to give ME something that is so iconic of the series is a total sock-rockin’ experience. I will tell you RIGHT NOW, I will not disgrace this piece of functional plastic nostalgia by torching paper and ants. Nay- it shall take a coveted place upon my desk for reading particularly tiny price listings and perhaps inspecting the divots and dimples of my cheez-its.
Fairy Princess Magic Cookie Kit!
I LOVE to bake, but rarely have the chance to do it cause time is a commodity in my house that is not easily gotten. I saw this and just giggled like a little girl! I was gonna make COOKIES! I love when everything you need is RIGHT THERE, all you gonna do is put it together. Like an Edible 1/24 scale ‘55 Chevy Bel Air model. I am gonna actually make these either TONIGHT or TOMORROW, in celebration of my BIRTHDAY! Yep. On April 18TH, i TURN 27. kinda scary. But I haven’t even acknowledged until JUST RIGHT NOW, so I’m not like, freaked out or anything. Not yet, anyway. So… yeah. I am gonna make these. And I will take pictures for y’all ok? Oo, another niftynoodle bloggie post, Courtesy of Mystie!
Okay, this last one… woo. Skeery. For me, anyway.
I have no fucking idea.
I imagine this is some cute Chinatown trinket for the little white kid who won’t stop saying” Daddy Get me something!” and he grabs the first and cheapest thing he can find and then dreads the consequent electronic insanity that emits from it. Honestly, the picture does it no justice.
Ok, so imagine, you see this as you open the box (after dutifully readign the note written on JackSkellington Paper with that Beautiful Blue Moon-Sand color wehad discussed on an earlier thread at Mystie’s blog) and go Oo! I like peanuts, even if you don’t REALLY like peanuts. I only like peanuts because peanuts are weirdly shaped, and that weird stuff happens when peanut-shaped items come into play.
So I pick it up0 it’s got this plastic wrap around it with some chinese characters on it. I don’t know chinese so it means jack SHIT to me. I imagine it says “Lucky Peanut” or something. I then begin to make a connection- Lucky=Cricket. Cricket in a Peanut Shell.
And I slow down, Cause… uhm,. CRICKETS kind of scare me. I’ll rescue a standed cricket with a cup and paper, but I’m always scared they’re gonna bite. and they’re so BLACK. And there only so far from Cockroaches and Locusts. I pray the crickets in this peanut aren’t real.
So I try and open it, and it starts TICKING. I shriek, and look to Rudy, who’s looking at me like I just shat a cat or something. I open the lid a bit and the noise begins again. Turns out, as I finally open it, there’s two gilded crickets, sitting on leaves that are attached to the base of this GIANT PLASTIC PEANUT. There’s this terrible cardboard background that doesn’t correlate to crickets in the LEAST, and this elecrtonic, simulate ricket chirp noise is just driving me bananas. I press on the red thing, and the chirping stops.
Oh great. I need to either keep the thign CLOSED, or I constantly hold down the button. And it’s totally freaking me out. That picture was SO hard to take, hence the terrible quality. That Sound will make you want to murder babies, MUY PRONTO.
Again, thanks to mystie for bestowing on me a wonderful smorgasbord of girly-nstalgia goodness! You have given these items a good home and have taught me how to truly send a care package! Cause no package is complete without porn-page package materials.
uh-huh.
Okay.
As many people who read this know, or don’t … or just fall in hoping that there’s going to be lots of pictures of me or my art, and nothing too difficult to read … or at least something vapid and easily digestable- as in Paris Hilton’s blog or… fuck, I dunno…
…I don’t have a MySpace.
I know- in this day and age with a gal like me with shit to babble about and art to share… you would think that MySpace would be an awesome thing to do- it’s free and so customizable… yah- totally rad!
No. Not. Not Me. No thank you.
Long before there were Vanity sites, like Myspace and Facebook and whatever… I had real, honest-to-god webspace. I actually paid money to have a domain name, and made a webpage. I did it the old-fashioned way. Because of my ART. I knew that if I wanted to be successful, I had to make a name for myself. Somehow.
And fuck, that shit was HARD. Unless you’re completely dedicated to that kind of fine-tuning in terms of image alignment maintaining image databases and hunting down busted links and writing code… you really don’t have the time or patience to do it. Which was why I stopped doing it.
Of course, just as I stopped maintaining my webspace ( it was www.Kellistrations.com, but my name-lease wore out, and I ceased paying yahoo for webspace), under the idea that people got famous BEFORE the internet, and it was costing a lot of money for a place that had like… zero traffic…. Myspace Blew up.
I pondered the idea of starting a Myspace many years ago. It sounded like EXACTLY what I wanted. A space to showcase me- my art, make it accessible to other people with like interests, famous people perused MySpace, maybe I could get art jobs… But as I began to hear about it, I learned what it was- and I didn’t want to go that route.
That it wasn’t a serious kind of networking site. I mean- honestly, do Wizards of the Coast recruiters just PERUSE myspace for new talent? No, They probably have that shit BLOCKED on the terminals through the offices. And Besides, if a body ain’t go to pay for it, that shows a LACK OF DEDICATION TO THEIR CRAFT, right there.
So- Myspace wasn’t a serious place. I began to think of MySpace as an Online Yearbook.
Collecting signatures of your friends in school, or at work or in college and people you thought were cool and bands that are cool and keeping them for posterity’s sake so you can go back and say- “Yeah, they were cool, and we were friends. I was so cool.” Sticking up images you think are cool and collecting quotes you think are cool and talking to your friends who are so cool… “oh Ya, I have a myspace and I’m cool, just like everyone else… MY PAGE IS BLACK AND RED AND I HAVE PANTERA FOR MY BACKGROUND MUSIC”.
*barfs*
I was never into that, I’m not into that, and I don’t think I ever will be. I know it sounds so “Non-Conformist” that I put it that way, but that’s how it feels to me. Everyone’s cooler online. My sister thinks she’s hot fuckin’ shit online. MY SISTER. erk.
Oooo.
Another issue.
Rudy and I rarely take pictures anymore.
Like… we don’t let people take pictures of us.
BECUASE OF MYSPACE.
I have a story- It was the final straw.
Rudy’s Brother Lupito-Jose,Pete… whatever… he’s going to school for photgraphy. Being only 18, and an aspirng artist with little money, he uses MySpace as a tool- to get his name among the crowds his age, to advertise himself. Which is fine at that age- At some point he will realize that he’s going to have to get more sophisticated, but for now, MySpace will do for him.
Anyway. He took a picture of his brother, MY RUDY, at a family function. Put it up on MySpace.
And Pete started getting hammered with hits from people Rudy and I went to School with. Asking where Rudy’s MySpace was, how he was doing… one such girl started hounding him for Rudy’s Phone # -she had some MAD crush on him in HS, she hated my guts and since I wasn’t in the pic, she assumed I was history.
The same thing happened to me- though it was my Sister who put a pic of Me and Rudy up- she was hounded by HS people wanting to know the lowdown on us.
So in a sore, roundabout way, we were getting barraged with attention from people we PURPOSELY MOVED AWAY FROM. And we didn’t like it. The respective Myspacers removed our pics- at our request… and we prefer it that way.
I know, you’re thinking- But if you hate Myspace, why do you have a BLOG? I know, I know. I thought about this myself.
I think it has to do with the fact that NO ONE READS THIS.
Yeah.
I have yet to find a person who finds me interesting enough to stalk me.
Which is VERY nice.
Maybe I’m a little vain in the fact I like to read my own writing. I think I’m the funniest person to myself. But I also think I am mega-dork and I don’t mind that either. And I don’t tell anyone that I blog. I mean- Rudy knows, and he thinks its lame, but you know- I’m a writer, I WRITE, I’ve been writing journals since I was able TO WRITE, so He can go suck on an egg. And it is lame, but whatever.
The only people who read my blog are people I’ve met on the internet- I don’t technically KNOW these people, they don’t call me on the phone, and we dont go out for coffee or anything even REMOTELY normal. I don’t know if people EVEN READ IT, I mean, I’ve got that counter over there so I know people COME here, but that’s it.
They could just go -”Oh. it’s not a MySpace Page”, and just X out.
Thank you for reading my obscene psychotic jab at MySpace.
Hapy Kwanzaa.
okay, Here!
The last one was about the Saturday before Halloween.
This one is not quite as picture laden, but it IS halloween night. The fact that it was a Wednesday night was a damper, but oh well. Next Year, right?
Anyway. I headed out of work early, and picked up Rudy at his job. I was already sporting a semi-costume… which means I grabbed all my fun clothes and put them all on at once. Rudy had a set plan, but couldn’t sport his outfit at work since he works in a serious office enviornment. Poor Guy.
We went into Santa Cruz ’cause there was a snazzy show at the Blue Lagoon. The AstroZombies were opening for the Choptops. You’ve heard me rave about the Choptops, which I will do again in THIS post, but the AstroZombies I hadn’t seen before. But they promised to be decent, as they were a Misfits tribute band. I’m of the group that says if the guy Sounds like Glenn, and knows the words to the songs, he’s better than anything Jerry Only is attempting to pass off as the Misfits nowadays. It’s not like the Misfits’ material is difficult to play, ya kno?
So- we show up, it takes us 15 minutes to find parking, though having to dodge Pacific as it’s closed for Halloween (fuckin’sweeeet and yet superlame!). We spent a few minutes adding touches to our getups that we couldn’t do in the truck.
I had my spiffy little spider-skirt, and had been dying to couple it with my black-and-red striped nylons. I painted web patterns on my face with my eyeliner. So I looked just-dressed-up-enough. Rudy had his Luciador mask, dug a skeleton shirt out of his closet ( it was a Misfits shirt, go fig!) and threw one of the nicer capes from our collection on.
By the way, that Death there was like 10 ft tall! I had to get on my knees to take the pic. Right next to the hand with the scythe, there’s an opening the guy looked through- he was totally baked! thatw as also the only costume I felt desrved to be taken with my Camera. Lots of skanks, showing lots of menudo, wearing their last-minute, picked-up-from-spirit costumes. Many people with many of the same costumes.
No Master Chief though. Sigh.
Okay. So we showed up at 7, the show started at 9. We strolled a bit, hit up a pub- 99 bottles of Beer. A sweet place that showcases beer from aroudn the world- 99 different kinds on tap, in bottles and cans… if you feel so inclined, you can pick up a “passport” and start keeping track of the beers you have. When you get all 99- you turn in your passport and they PUT YOUR NAME ON THE FUCKING WALL. Like, a brass plaque and everything. You do it ten times, you get your name posted behind the bar, on their BRICK WALL. And the only place where I don’t get asked what a Shandy is.
So we threw back some brews and wandered to the Blue Lagoon. The trapise at 8:30 was decidedly more interesting than the one at 7. More hoors, more skin. Not necessarily better costumes. Good ideas, but usually poor execution. But what Am I burbling about- I just threw on regular clothes and painted my face. whatever.
So we show up a bit early, diodn’t have to pay for the show. sweet. I felt a bit guilty cause they deserve to be paid, but Rudy wasn’t gonna hear it- he kept hearing $1 Pabst until the band started.
Which wasn;’t until 10:30. The AstroZombies were grossly unprofessional. Their guitarist was swilling bottles of nyquil- i doubted it was for a cold. They set up their gear at 9 and then mingled with the crowd, shouting and dancing and gennerally calling attention to themselves without playing a single note- quite obnoxious. I was annoyed by then, and even when they finally DID start playing, I couldn’t shake their gross pre-performance beucase they weren’t that good!
I mean- like I said, you can’t really screw up Misfits. And despite being ‘ruped up, their guitarist wasn’t bad. And the vocalist DID sound like Danzig. But if you can remember the chord changes, verse order and general knowledge of the material surpassses the Vocalist’s… you’re gonna be sury when you try to sing along and HE FUCKS IT UP- AND THE BAND FOLLOWS HIM SO HE DOESN’T LOOK LIKE AN ASS. It makes YOU look like an ass. And it’s not wise to alienate your crowd.
So, whatever. They were okay. They could have been better- they had the potential, and totally blew it.
The Choptops were ready to go. Now they normally look pretty dressed up. But for halloween, they decided to dress up for the holiday- and dolled themselves up as HairMetal Rockers. Sinner even fit in a few air-raid-siren yells in between songs. They rocked the roof off. It was great. I reccommend you east-coasters to take a gander at their site- they’re touring with the Nekromanix as we speak, and they’re a great show.
After the gig, I drove home cause Rudy did himself in with Pabst.
So. That was Halloween. It rocked.
I still have to do Dia De Los Muertos. Give me a few minutes. okies?
God, things wer CRAZY that halloween week. I only NOW got to download the halloween pix off the camera. I hope you enjoy the belated post. If you can’t stomach Halloween goodness this late in the game, just wait until next year and read it then. Otherwise… wait a few days, ’cause I’m posting our Dia Del Los Muertos Adventures just after this.
Here’s our Pumpkins…
My first cyclops died due to warm weather, but it’s always the same idea. The kitty one could have been better, but by that point, I was in a rush. It’s a creepy cat. dig it.
Rudy’s punkin was a bit more elaborate- he had way more time. He carved a Frankenstein face into the front, and spraypainte dthe bride of frankenstein on the side. Both were pre-existing stencil pieces, he just had to lay them out on the pumpkin and carve like a fiend.
Okay, he used a dremel. Rudy has christened himself the patron saint of Power Tools. And koalas. Okay, I said he was the Koala saint. Cause I am scared shitless of powertools. Oo! Blog entry.
We did stuff on the Saturday before Halloween, cause that’s just what you do. We also had plans for halloween night , so we decided to pull out the stops Saturday, and key it down for Wendesday.
Anyway.
Th bag said it was a Harajuku Girl. And since I knew what a Harajuku girl was and no one else did, I went w/ it. People just said “wo, that’s CRAZY!” Which was fine, they didn’t ask Questions. I didn’t mind that I was upstaged either.
As for Rudy- oh man, this costume was 2 years in the making. That’s an official Oderus mask, though Oderus’ mask has change since the last album… less pustules. A large amount of the pieces were bought last year, and others were repurposed from his own wardrobe. This was the kind of costume that people used foul language in exclamation. And the best part- people recognized him! One fellow did show his lameness by stating he was an LOTR guy which promptly made us go “wah? Man, no.” and ignore him.
So we went to the Catalyst, a few good Cover bands played. We were’t in for more than a few minutes before Rudy was chosen to enter the costume contest. Cool.
We saw TurboNegra- a Turbonegro cover band. We had only heard of Turbonegro in passing, bt really liked the sound these girls made… we plan on picking up a few CD’s soon. We were so swimming in the crowd, it didn’t occur to me to take pix. Sawwy.
We did however, get some pix of Hell’s Belles, the AC/DC cover band. They were hawt. The Angus dame had blond dreadlocks and took off her top. Rowdy good time. She started with Johnson stuff, which I don’t dig so much, but towards the end she swung for Bon Scott, who I adore. So rocknesses.
After their set, the Costume Contest began. There were a lot of good costumes. Some were obnoxious skanks. Of course. Some showed real ingenuity.
Snake Eyes and Cobra Commander were totally rad, they recognized Rudy and he was really into his character. There was also a Chef and a Lobster, Bettie Paige, Dog the Bounty Hunter, evena bear attack victim with the BIGEST TEDDYBEAR I’D EVER SEEN strapped to his back… really great stuff.
Rudy took the stage and hammed it up. He didn’t place, but got a great crowd reaction. He almost didn’t wear his costume, but by the end of the night, he was pretty happy w/ it.
You know.I should probably write about actual Halloween night, but it’s not that huge, so I’ll just cut this into a two parter. Monday Night Football at the Pub! Wish me luck.
since i had to take Racecar to the vet to get his rabies shot, today is the first day I am blogging from home, on my own computer. Granted, I am on the clock and working from home…
“Curses!” says you. “How can you blog on Company Time?”
And I just shrug. Work is the only place where I am close enough to a computer to do these kinds of things. We have 5 computers in our house- three laptops and two full-on units- and yet Rudy hates that sometimes i just wanna DO STUFF ON THE COMPUTER, you know… do stuff that may not involve him.
Ever since we started dating, our together-time takes precedence over many activities. If we need to go shopping, we’ll do it TOGETHER. Which means that there are a lot of things that get left behind due to our togetherness. I could totally shop for groceries and he could work on his Elko st the same time but No. We’re gonna go Shopping to gether, and then I get to sit around while he works on the Elko.
Sometimes it makes for a lot of downtime on my part. Which is one of the reasons I have cats. That way, while he’s doing whatever he needs to do and I can’t help with, at least I can entertain myself by seeing how many times I can touch Wicket’s belly before he bites me.
I understand that that’s a sign of a co-dependent personality. I don’t really mind so much. It’s just when he flies off the handle that irks me. And that’s when I snap back and he realizes that yes- he’s been an asshole. I’m fortunate enough to have a Man who can find faults in himself and tries to fix them before they get bad.
Not to say I’m without my faults. I like to go shopping by myself sometimes and that gets him mad becuase I don’t TELL him I’m going shopping- that we could have done it TOGETHER.
Well, Rudy, sometimes girls have to really SHOP for underwear instead of grabbing a three-pack of hanes in the right size and say “that’ll do.”
While Rudy likes to shop, he doesn’t shop like I do. I usually end up getting dragged around at the mall cause he needs hel to pick track jackets, while all I wanna do is go into that store and all I get to do is window shop- he gets so exasperated and BORED when we go into girl stores; if I don’t find something in the first 5 minutes, he starts whining like a baby and I usually wind up not getting anything.
see RUDY!? That’s why I shop alone.
and just so you all know. I’ve told him this. He knows it. It’s just… como se dice… doesn’t listen when he doesn’t want to. Selective hearing.
I sometimes worry about I might be turning into a naggy bitch.
