www.zeitgestmovie.com

You'll be amazed at what it says.

Eye of Ra and Anubis Head Tattoos

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Tattoos!!!! Woohoo!

Yup I've got a few now and I'm wanting more and more. They are addictive!

Here's some pics...hope you enjoy!

Both done by Morgan

Death Star Super Lazer

Now that I've gotten your attention, I'd like to apologize for not writing that often. I'll come back to it soon. I promise.

A couple of videos for the masses...

A few days down the road

A few days down the road and I feel old sometimes. I have grown to like the chill in the morning air, the stars in the cloudless sky and the sounds of quiet. There are days when I don't even listen to music as I drive. For days at a time actually. I know I'm getting old when that happens.

I know I'm getting old when I long for just the touch of another's hand or a warm embrace from a friend, both of which make me feel alive. I know I'm getting old when I look at those around me and I see them aging, when I feel with my knees and ankles that the rain is coming, and when I make excuses for my aches and pains. I know I'm a few days down the road.

I still fantasize that I can regain the physical condition of my youth, but have yet to realize that dream. I don't have the drive anymore. It's more important to me that the laundry be done, the dogs walked, the cat fed and the lights aren't on when I leave in the morning. Where has time gone?

A few days down the road and my eyes aren't as strong as they used to be, my hands aren't as steady and my legs not so strong. The taste of cold water is more refreshing to me than a beer, the warmth of the shower penetrates me to the bone and the sun sears my eyes. And yet I drive further, I drive a few days down the road.

Silly little blog....

sorry, I was boiling green beans in the second batch of broth (because one is never enough) and forgot about them. I'd have started a horrible green bean fire. It could have been worse than the hindenburg...Oh the humanity. But lucky for humanity I was able to make a quick leap off my fat as$ and turn off the stove. Yes, again I am a hero. They should make a TV show out of my life. It would be called Mundane and the Ordinary-subtitled Living with the Pharaohs.

The best part of the show would be the Pup-arazzi always following the real stars...oh the scandals..."Did you see the way Gaia looked at that other bitch?" Oh my! And Xerxes, he walks around so brazenly...(and all the alternative lifestyle hounds would be saying.."Did you see that? He looks like a horse!" or "He could be my D0minant male anytime!!!!"

But the old women would feel sorry for our hapless hero, who stands brave in the face of countersurfing danger-and buckles down and steam cleans up the remains of yesterday's and last week's gourmet dinners. They would pity him and email in cleaning hints and recipes. Young ladies would fall in love with our bumbling protaganist-all to their chagrin. For it is not the ladies he would share his bed with, no, it is young men-much like himself. Young men that would walk the perilous path of pet partnership, young hot men who would much rather snuggle with another and share the hot sweaty passion of the "love that dare not speak it's name." Oh Scandal. Oh Scandal why must you ring so true? Is this not love I see before me? Or it is and passion? Where could those intimate moments have gone?

Somewhere between the countersurfing canine self-catering and the feline felicity our hero lost his capacity to love another human being. Oh say it isn't so. Please no. The tabloids and dime store novels ring true, even today. Even by today's standards. There will be no more Tom Cruises, only Doogie Hausers, and Danny Aiellos. Everyone will be out, and everyone will be outed. Sad sad truth of life and love. And the old women sobbed and dabbed their tears with kleenex and then changed the channel to hear the inspiring words of Oprah.

And so it ends.

9 months is a long time, but it's not

I'm tired, my eyes are in pain and I've got a headache. The tv is on in the background, I'm wearing dirty work clothes and my pits are stinky. There are two dogs and a cat behind me and I'm starting a blog.

9 months ago I posted my St. Patricks day blog. I've recieved various responses to it, but nary a comment. I wish I had something enlightening to say but I don't. Perhaps there is a word or two that will issue forth and strike a chord with someone in some place.

Since I don't know what to say I'll talk about television commercials for a minute. I love the Geico commercial that shows the caveman in the airport, he sees the Geico ad on the airport wall, and starts to look very pleased with himself, yet also a bit shy about it. I think this is one of the best commercials I've seen for Geico. The caveman route had me confused at first though. But it's grown on me.

I'm really appreciative of the agency that has been putting the Geico ads together for the last few years. The Gecko is one of my all time favorite spokes-animals. To give him a British accent makes it so much more tolerable. After all afixxing a British accent to anything automatically lends credibility. I'm not sure why that is so. But would you rather your neurosurgeon have a British accent or a Texas Drawl?

"Way-ull, ya see that there dark sumbich in that MRI scan, that there is a fibrous cyst that is applying pressure to the medulla oblongata and the way it's growin' way-ull let's just say it's fixin' to spread to this here optic nerve and you ain't gonna be seein' much if that li'l of a tumor has it's way."


Oh yeah, I want you to cut open my head. Please do it now.

But a British accent, he could tell you anything and you'd believe it. "Quite roight, sir. This oddly shaped mass is growing at an alarming rate. Forthwith I think we should expedite the excision and get on with it."

I don't understand what you just said, but please, please keep talking.

So yeah, I'm a punk for not blogging. But I think I'll do it more often.