Holy May

Oh, but its been a while since updating this site. I say to myself, "For Shame!" I'd almost go as far as saying, "A pox upon you, Kevin!" but I won't, because i don't deserve such treatment, even from myself, and if i hear it from anyone, including YOU, they will suffer profoundly, and in every agonizing way i can possibly think of, and let me tell you my unworthy denizens, I can be very imaginative when it comes to punishing those who mock or take my name in vain. You have all been forewarned and admonished...but i digress..



I haven't been up to much of late I must admit, other than my everyday dull and tedious schedule of magnificent manifestations and building myself up by tearing ALL others down...But honestly, can you expect any less from someone so profoundly more important than the masses I must Shepard to the greener pastures that exist only in my well landscaped mind? (migrant workers do great mind work by the way.)



It is now the Holy month of May, Holy only for the sole reason that it is the month of my oft prophecised birth. This Holy May holds an even larger significance due to the fact that in mortal years i will be the wise age of 30...wise only because its me.



My sister has come to town this lovely May 20th! and because her and i share the same parents, but more importantly because I am her brother, she deserves far more respect than any of you. But...if there is only so much respect you can divvy up at any given time remember: Give unto Kevin what is Kevin's, and then you most likely will have no more respect to give. But don't worry, I won't be giving out any respect out to you, so rest easy, or rest in peace.



It just so happens that my Brother Kyle's birthday falls on the day prior to my own. This, obviously, was done on purpose, just like John the Baptist, Kyle's birthday is to prepare the world for my coming. This analogy doesn't work quite so well seeing that I am 3 years older than he is, but you will take what i give you and pretend that it all makes perfect sense. Because it does.



Okay its game time! Guess what i want for my birthday. Go ahead, I'll wait and waste my precious time................ WRONG! What i really want is for you people to stop pestering me, sadly that's unobtainable, so instead I want to see the Milky Way again...



Speaking of the Milky Way. Does it ever bother you that you can't really see it any longer? It bothers me, and that is why it is my birthday wish. Sometimes people ask me if i want that flu that is going around, and i say "swine not." That isn't a true story, but it is a story, much like those behemoth skyscrapers you often see have stories, but those are usually poorly thought out and have a stench like that David Bowien-Hensonian eternal bog. I once thought of a good story, but that's a horse of a different colour, then that crafty wizard stole it from me and now I'm penny-less and he's now in control of Oz. Or was, I'll get back to you on the details, ends up he floated away in a balloon to who knows where. Funny how that works...at one moment you have the power, the next moment... you are nothing but Prince Adam and your cat Cringer is nothing but a cowardly, cowering, lazy, over eating, pantywaist.


I'm getting away from myself...the point of this section of my blog is to comment on how the Milky Way is beyond my eyes to see...sure, you can go into any corner market and stare at the confectionery delight that bares its same name, but its not the same......



GIVE ME MY MILKY WAY!


Update: 07.27.09

So, yeah my birthday came and went and I was just so caught up in the World's celebration of me that i forgot to finish this entry. OOOooopppss. Anyway, quell the riot and unrest in your mind for I have not raptured into the heavens....yet. Here's hoping i can write some more soon, but honestly don't fast for it...the likelihood's you'll starve.

OH OH.... CHRISTMAS TRIED TO STARE ME DOWN!!

Okay, so yesterday was like any other day in my life... I went to work, was playfully rude to customers, chewed some gum, worked far longer then desired, and eventually found myself watching Back to the Future. But something unexpected reared its menacing head as i was habitually gazing blank-eyed at air molecules...

"Tis Christmastime," Something whispered.

Hearing voices in my head was odd but not wholly undocumented in my life, so I played it cool, which to me means huddling in the corner flogging my face with my fingernails. After my corporal punishment I brushed my face off and got back to work. But before my facial flagellation could even stop throbbing The Voice made an unwelcome revisitation.

"Two Days...two days......" The Voice whispered again.

Then it dawned on me. Oh its Christmas, pardon, TIS CHRISTMASTIME! This realization must have been brilliantly beaming from my eyes because everyone was looking at me as if in terror, or maybe the stares were from the still recent wounds left from my fingernail horsewhipping. Either way, the important part of this story was my new gained knowledge that Christmas was here. Wait, the important detail was actually the weird voice i heard in my head. What was this strange voice? Why did he speak to me? Beats me.


Okay... so I just checked my voice mail and everything is starting to makes some sense. I had 12 days of messages from some phantasm that went by the name "The Ghost of Christmastides That Simple-Minded Ninnies Have Forgotten" So, I called to tell him that his name needed some work.

So, with all the loose ends mended, and no questions needing answered, this charming seasonal greeting comes to an end. Maybe Santie Claus will bring me what i truly desire these holidays...An expensive root canal! OH t'would bringeth me yuletide cheer!

Tis Christmastime, Tis Christmastime!

May its nearness bring you bliss.

And frighten off those Christmas ghosts,

to a seasonal abyss.

It may not be His birthday,

Just a pagan winterfest.

But to all those whom I'm grateful,

pray your merry days be blessed.

I think Eisenhower, or Einstein wrote that, or maybe it was Old Man Winter himself...Wilford Brimley.

Will i lose my strength??

So, I have been going through a struggle lately. its not your average everyday struggle for survival either, no, this is far more important. Everyday when i wake up I usually do four things before beginning my day...

1. Confusingly search for the alarm clock emergency shut off switch while simultaneously realizing that my high speed truck chase down a forested mountain road was most likely NOT reality, nor were the zombie lumberjacks i was chasing...pity.





2. As my brain slowly meanders into consciousness, my first thought is a prayer...I pray that I don't have to work today. As the disappointment of my unanswered prayer washes over me I then...





3. Go back to sleep in a futile attempt to end what I hope is still a nightmare. When that doesn't work(it never works)...I then move on to the forth and final thing i do at the beginning of my day, the struggle I mentioned at the beginning of this post...





4. I look in the mirror, and say to myself, "Is that you Rapunzel?! Wait, no it's just me...Shoot, I really need a haircut. I know I say this to you all the time Kevin, but this time i mean it! This week we cut these precious ashy brown locks. It's been a year! Quit your trepidation and get it done!" With that pep talk I then begin my day.

The problem arises as the day progresses. I begin to second guess my morning pledge. The loss of my long time good friend and neck warmer to the barbarity of barbery begins to weigh on my conscience. I start to ask myself, "What has your hair ever done to you to deserve such backstabbing savagery?" I respond, "Other than it dangerously blocking my view, spelunking down my throat at night, clogging my shower, greasifying my appearance and stubbornly refusing to follow any of my grooming instructions at all? Kevin, let's forget your delusional Porter Rockwell fantasy for the moment and stick with the facts. You are not Samson. For once in your life let's experiment with this odd concept of being "well groomed" who knows Kevin, people might even begin to respect you."

This internal struggle continues, almost repeated verbatim, throughout the entire day. At one moment reminding myself of the long history of hair shaving as shameful punishment: Jews in concentration camps, African slaves, French civilian wartime collaborators, Olympic swimmers...I'll ask myself, "Do I really want to be another statistic in this brutal practice? I need to stand proud of my mammalian class and retain that which defines us, the mass removal of hair is demammalization in its cruelest form!" In the next moment I will shift allegiances with myself and rebut my argument, calling to attention the common practice of removing ones hair as a symbol and sign of purification, humility, renewal, or to mourn the loss of a loved one. "Do you not see the power of this practice?" I ask myself, "Did you grow your hair or did your hair grow you?" I usually scoff at that lame faux-philosophic reply, I don't know why i still use it.

Anyway, I think you get the point. I am a house divided. Or so Abraham Lincoln claimed when we had a deep conversation recently. As the following photo proves:

Plagiarizing himself, he warned me, "Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and every city or house divided against itself shall not stand." With Honest Abe's tutelage I realized that if I continue to be frozen by indecision, if I allow myself to become petrified by internal squabbles and bickering then my destruction is all but guaranteed. I must come to a decision soon...the world is counting on me.

"Yes we can."- Bob the Builder, later stolen by Barack Obama

Speak friend and enter.

The ghoul above is me, but fear not, for as luck will have it my ghoulification lasted but one halloween night.

Oh.... hello there. Here i am jumping late onto the blogwagon. why you ask? First, i don't know if its any of your business, and second, I have heard stories whispered to me when the shades are pulled that its a blog eat blog world wide web out there. Frightening to say the least. However, it has slowly come to my attention that even children have blogs....CHILDREN! Now, i don't know about you, but i for one will not have some amateurish callow bottle swallower as my pace car, recklessly guiding me down the information superhighway. So, although my body quakes with foreboding apprehension, and for nights now i have woke trembling in a cold sweat, my heart pounding in my chest like the foot of a twitterpated Thumper, I have made the difficult decision to take my first steps into electronic self-journalism. If I survive the night you may find that I will make further posts as need warrants. Note my emphasis on may.

The only other reason I can fathom I would embark on this foolhardy expedition, is that my sister already has a blog on this site......to think...my own sister..... this shall not be allowed to continue. Her one sided reporting, though "technically" 100% true, lacks the competition that our capitalist society has deemed necessary to combat the greed, corruption and sluggish innovation that almost always occurs when there is a monopoly. That threat is magnified when you realize that the blogmongering mastermind behind this savagery is none other then my sister Erinn. Well guess what.....I REALIZED.

So here it is, my trumpeting herald of truth, a harbinger for my dawning resplendence, the last bastion of hope for all who yearn for a nonnarcotic stimulant. I was tempted to refer to this site as my Sistine chapel, but that would be selling this blog short. Suffice it to say that this continuing edict will make all arts, sciences, entertainments and histories but ramshackle remmants of a past best forgotten. Antediluvian and archaic, these relics will fade unnoticed as the eyes of humanity become transfixed on the euphoria that has just now materialized.

Ash blog durbatulûk, Ash blog gimbatul.

Ash blog thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul