Friday, August 19, 2011

Two Tickets to the Gunshow

This is a short bit of fiction for one of Chuck Wendig's Flash Fiction contests. You should go check him out.

My eardrums are blown out in a cacophony of bullets. I'd put in the earplugs Perry handed me earlier if I didn't need to hear where Sammy was. Perry's huddled beside me with his hands over his ears. I hug the steel table and hold my pistol close. Perry keeps telling me "It's a revolver you jackass!" Revolver. Whatever. It sounds like every gun ever made is shooting at us. I wait for the storm of enraged bees to let up a bit so I can pop my head out. It doesn't. I fuckin' hate guns.

"You think you can just waltz in here, waive your badge around, and take ME in?! In a freakin' gun show?! You must be the stupidest fuck on the force!"

Perry tries to glare at me through squinted eyes and muted ears. I think he agrees with the guy. I'm inclined to do the same. Whatever. I just shoot the damn things, it's not like I need to be a connoisseur or nothing.

Bullets fly past my hair making me wish I had a receding hairline. I see holes in the wall the size of golf balls. What the hell are they shooting at us?

"That's a M1919 Browning machine gun! How'd they get a hold of that?!"

Thanks perry. Knew there was a reason I brought you along. Well yeah, he's the gun expert. That IS the whole reason I brought him along. Whatever. I just wish he knew how to shoot.

"Cmon out pigs! I ain't got all day!"

"We just want to know who you sold the gun to, Sammy! the uh-"

"38 Weston special!"

"Yeah that! What he said!"

The cacophony starts up again. I don't think he heard me.

"I ain't tellin' you shit man!"

Ok, so he's just an asshole. Good to know. Jesus, how many gun nut friends does he have out there? I'll tell you one thing, me and Perry are not dying here. This is too ironic a death for either of us.

I fire off a few rounds over their heads, then I throw my coat to the left of me, while I duck out on the right. They go to the bait like a swarm of flies to dung. Before I duck behind a column, I notice how many friends Sammy has. One beefy guy in a wife beater and a ponytail, one with squinty little eyes and big coke bottle glasses in a fishing vest, one in shades and a snakeskin jacket, oh wait and everyone else in the building showing their right to bear arms. Oh and they all have guns. So. Many. Guns. Just making sure they’re not throwing bullets at me.

I clip Mr. snakeskin in the shoulder to get their attention off Perry. Snakeskin drops his whatever millimeter whatever and goes down clutching his arm like the little baby he is. That’s how I’m hoping a lot of ‘em will go down.

“Now why don’t you put your toys down and come answer teacher’s question?”

“You want toys?! I’ll give you toys!”

“No toys is the opposite of what I-“

“That’s an AK-47!”

Before I can thank Perry for that oh so important piece of information, I hear a string of profanities erupt from that AC-40 Gerald’s holding.

“Are we gonna let him impede on our second amendment rights?!”

An uproar of ‘hell no’s from the yokels meets Sammy’s proclamation. And then an uproar of bullets. I look to my right and see some jackass point something long at me. I stub his toe and take it from him. Shotgun? Shotgun. One of Sammy’s bullets rips through the guy’s leg. I fire off a few rounds in Sammy’s direction. No luck.

“That’s a coach gun! You can’t use it at long range!”

What, first they got names and now they got rules? Pretty soon they’ll be wanting the right to vote. I throw the coach gun away and grab something from a nearby table, as a duck underneath. I hold it over my head for a few seconds to get Perry’s attention.

“Will this thing work?”

“That’s an M16 Assault Rifle!”

“Not answering my question!”

“YES! Shoot the thing!”

Me and Perry. We have our good times. I unload a clip in the general direction of the gun club. They scatter like silverfish. Sammy gets scared. I see him run off. I follow with my trusty pistol revolver. And then I feel something rip through my calf as the floor punches me hard. I’m bleeding, a little disoriented. I see squinty eyes walking in my general direction looking a little too happy with what he’s carrying…and what he’s about to do. I split those coke bottles in one shot.

But here’s the problem: That was my last bullet. Damn it. Should have waited till squinty eyes was closer. Sammy strolls up lookin’ like the kid who caught the bullfrog in a jar. I don’t need to know what he’s pointing at me to know what it’ll do to my insides.

“So Sammy, you ready to tell me who you sold that gun too?”

“Oh detective, you’re a funny one! You won’t be so funny when I-“

And then I see the most ridiculous thing of this whole goddamn adventure. Perry runs up with a sword-an honest to God swashbuckler’s sword-and drives it straight through Sammy’s shoulder. Sammy’s cry of pain as he goes down is Beethoven to my ears. Perry’s huffing and puffing from the adrenaline while I try to stand on my last leg.

“Perry, just who in the hell brings a knife to a gunfight?”

Friday, May 6, 2011

a dysfunctional renaissance fair

I actually did this one awhile ago but kept forgetting to upload it.

The iron horses
rusted squeaking and skwaking
let out clanging neighs
as the children tug on their copper ears the king sits on his thrown
sipping on his second 32 oz. cup of mead
as he tries to look down the queens corset for the
37th time?
The queen has since lost count
and lost interest
Her interest is not on the night
tall lanky and awkward
in his glimmering well kept armor
but of the stable boy
the stable man
in his wife beater and low hanging jeans
that he should be hanged for wearing such out of place attire
the jester fails to jest
as he loses his magic the gathering cards from his backpack
and none of the knights can agree
or disagree
on whether lost or batllestar had the worst ending
and the blacksmith sits in his shop looking up from his iphone every now and then
while his wench tears at a mutton leg with her plastic fork and knife
all in all they all agree
this was much better than last years comicon.

Monday, April 25, 2011

High Fructose Corn Syrup You Filthy Whore

High fructose corn syrup you filthy whore
You caked up slut
You sugary sweet destitute prostitute, selling yourself to any junky stoner or third grader that will have you
You have your slushy syrupy hands in w everything
I know your story
You came from a small town out in Nebraska
A simple stalk
A virgin
With wet suguary dreams
You came here
To the city
To the factories
To the candy colored work houses
They fed you lies saying they would make you sweeter
More mature
More full bodied
And then they raped you
Disfigured you
Mutated you
Poluted and diluted and over sweetened you
And put you in ever cardboard box, coke can and candy wrapper they could stuff you
Do you even know who you are anymore?
What's inside you?
What you've become?
You're a joke
A gag
A diseased ridden whore for men in cheap suits
Oh your sweet cracked lips
Your deceptive body
You go down so smooth so easy
You're there without me even askin you to be there
How I wish I didn't love you
How I wish i wasn't hooked on you
How I wish I could cut you away from my life completely
But you're in my vains too deep
You're glucose in my bloodstream
You're a honey silk dominatrix
And I am your rushing crashing addicted slave.

Thursday, April 14, 2011


There's a girl
Dark hair, blond hair, redhead
With glasses
C cups D cups double D cups
And she's a librarian?
No no
She's a school girl
Yes yes
She's been naughty
Yes yes
She's been a naughty school girl in her short school girl skirt and school girl Glasses and schoolgirl panties
Did I email back that guy that job offer
No damn it she's a school girl
No wait she's a redhead and a doctor
Yes yes
A sexy doctor
Yes yes
No she's a nurse in a white gown and white stockings and she needs an injection
And I should remember to DVR house later and
No god no
Ok she's a secretary
A biker chick
A dominatrix
Sexy secretary biker chick dominatrix with leather
I forgot to call my mother
Legs, boobs, glasses, arms, pay the bills, table, knees, bed, rope, iron still on, lips, tits, arched back, door closed? heels, big heels, shouting, screaming, moaning, adventure time, grabbing, thrusting, indian girl, big eyes, facebook, breast, open skirt, pussy, wet, cringe, lips, breasts, NEW GREETING CARD!
I need a new girlfriend.

Dreaming Dejavu

Have I dreamed this before?
Twenty one days ago
Or maybe it was a month or two months or a week
I woke up from a dream
And I couldn't quite remember what it was about
But it felt familiar
More than that it felt like it would feel familiar
And today,
I get a sense I've done this before
Said this before
Experienced this experience before
And I remember back to that dream I had
Twenty one days ago
Or maybe a month or two months or a week
And it feels familiar now
Like it felt familiar then
Or that it feels familiar like it would feel familiar
At least I think it does
And I get a sense of dejavu
And the strangest thing
The very strangest thing I have about this strange feeling
Is that I remember in that dream I had
Twenty one days ago
Or a month or two months or a week
I remember getting dejavu
About having this feeling.
At least I think I did.

That Last Moment

In a moment, this moment I am experiencing
Right now, with you
This moment we are both sharing
Will pass and be lost in a thousand billion moments we've already experienced.
This moment
This moment that you are experiencing with me right now
In only a moment in time
Not even a year or a week or a day or an hour
But even in a moment in time
You will remember this moment
This moment we both have shared
And you will question whether this moment ever existed
Or if it is one of the many false moments you've made up in your head.
Remember that even in this moment
You knew your future self would question the existence of this moment
Remember that you remember questioning yourself about this moment
And realize this question will not help you qualify this moment's existence at all,
It will merely serve to make you question all future past moments.

Ode to Thesaurus

What is the word
The word
The word for meaning
What sounds like meaning and feels like meaning but isn't quite meaning meaning
Explanation denotation connotation
Interpretation sounds good
Good good
What's another word for good
A good word for good
Great excellent superb outstanding magnificent!
No that's too much
Too good for good
I'll stick with great.
Now sexy
Sexy sexy
I need a sexy word for sexy
No it'd be better if it was an unsexy word for sexy
Desiring alluring voluptuous nubile toothsome
Really? I like it. Toothsome.
Now ending
What's a word for ending
How can I end with an ending that's not ending but is an ending
And an ending that isn't french of course
Conclusion resolution denouement
No not denouement
Still too french
Hmmm finale termination discontinuation
I've got it!
Because an antonym is still a synonym if you use it ironically, right?
What's another word for thesaurus?

Callout to the Girl with Glasses

I dig a girl with glasses,
And that's the only kind of girl I'll dig
I give no contact to a lady with contacts
I've got no passion for a girl with perfect vision
The only woman I'll bed is the minx wearing the bright red frames.
Because You've got to respect those specs
Those fine ass brims
Those coke-bottle lenses that get me into a coked up frenzy
Those curvy spectacles that are a spectacle for my senses
To me, two eyes are not enough when four is on the table
Bifocals, trifocals,
Don't put those reading glasses away in your leopard skin case,
Take them out,
Put them on display,
Let them shimmer
Let them gleam
Let them reflect my complete ecstasy in seeing
Those big beautiful wonderful windows encasing your soul
Librarians, Secretaries, and female physicians rejoice
Because I go crazy for those specs
Because I get hot and bothered by those blinkers
Because I need to cool down after catching a glimpse of those hot glasses
Because there's just nothing sexier than a chick with nearsightedness.

Sunday, March 6, 2011


Friday I went to a poetry reading with a friend. I went last month and really enjoyed it, and everyone prodded me into writing something. This time was just as much fun; there were amazing poets, music, crazy tranny puppets, and a guy playing a saw like a violin. Also I wrote poetry.

I was quite busy all month and putting it off. FInally, Thursday night, at about 1 in the AM, I wrote a couple in an hour. I like doing poetry quickly and at the last minute, so if they suck, no harm. They seemed to go over well. Enjoy!

.txt file
I am typing this on a keyboard into a computer onto a text file
saving it
deleting it
re-typing re saving re reading
emailing it
reading it
sent from iphone to my eyes to my brain to my mouth to your ears.
Thank the mother Steve Jobs
and the father Al Gore
For I never have to write, scribble, doodle,
read, scratch out, rewrite
read, re-read, re-reread, and translate my horrible handwriting ever again.

Sitting Alone
I see the look in your eyes
The way you avoid my gaze
The way you button the top button on your blouse
The empty seat you leave beside me
Don't think I dont notice
Don't think I dont remember
The empty seat beside me on the bus,
The empty seat beside me in class
The empty seat beside me every day of my life
The invisible stalker I couldn't get rid of
You think you're being subtle
You think you're being nice
But you might as well be saying it to my face
You're a creep youre a bum
You might as well be shouting it at me
You're weird, you're strange
You dont like me? I get it. It's fine.
I don't like you either
I don't like people who dont like me
I don't like people who put a stamp on my forehead
Before I get a chance to let a word out of my mouth for your approval
You're a creep, you're a bum
You create a vacuum of hate
And I hope it sucks you out and suffocates you.
I'll save you a seat.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

New Years Revolutions

SO. It's been a year. It's been over a year since I started living at home, and this past year, I've seen some things in myself that I like, some things that have improved, and some things I have a serious problem with that I really need to work on.

Things I think have gotten better: My drawing abilities. Still needs work, but I can do a butt load of stuff without reference now, and I'm pretty proud of that. Also, my photoshop skills. When I apply myself, I can really use the medium and now I'm not so dependent on flash. My website (Though now it's my blog, so I prefer to call it my blogsite) is a whole lot nicer than my website, loads faster, is easier to change and update, and can actually be seen on iphones and other mobile media. I still would like to make one in wordpress, but until I get off my lazy ass and figure out MYSQL I'm pretty happy with it.

Things I need to work on:

Finishing what I start. I have a serious problem with this. I get all amped up for a project, I get a specific idea in my head, and I try so damn hard to execute it, but I fall short. Sometimes when I don't know a program I fold under pressure. This comes through as a half ass comic or a huge animation project I couldn't possibly finish. This needs to stop. I need to know my limitations, pick smaller battles, and finish the battles I start. Radiogame Theatre is one of the few big projects that I started, finished and am generally proud of. I knew what I had to do, I saw the deadline, I planed for it, and I finished it. I need to do more projects like that.

I also have this problem with relationships. I love getting to know people, but I'm terrible at breakups. Either I'll jump it too early and say the wrong thing, or I won't do anything and the passion will just die out, like an unfinished game. I need to work on this. Is anyone out there actually good at breaking up? Don't tell me it can't be done! I've seen it!

This is also why i love Scott Pilgrim so much. There's one scene in which Scott's friend tells him he has to break up with his girlfriend, and Scott whines, "But it's haaaaaaard!" That's me. I suck at that. I hate doing it because you're mostly a cool person and I want to leave you better than I found you, and you deserve someone cool. So for all those half assed shitty break ups I apologize.

Taking on too many projects at once. This goes along with my last point; I have to pick smaller battles, and less of them. I'm always so quick to say yes to new projects because A) I never know where that project may lead and B) I get an idea in my head, I get really SUPER excited, and I think it will be much easier that it actually is. I can't count the times I've told myself, "Oh, I'll just photoshop it" and then I get into photoshop only to realize I hate my photoshop skills. So I'm sorry ahead of time if I say No to a project. It's only because I'm working on 49 other projects I think I can handle.

Laziness. I say I do alot of things, but I wake up too late to do anything productive, watch too much crap on the internet, rush projects at night, and then go to bed too late just to start the whole damn process over again. This has to stop. I need to take my patented sticky system more strictly and get shit done. I've also become too comfortable living this lifestyle. Sure I want a job and my own place, but I can get up when I want, mold my own work schedule, stay up as late as I want...were I a lesser man I'd sit on my ass and play videogames all day.

Make a routine. It's hard to stick to routines when you don't have to, and it's really hard to stick to them if half the week you go away to the city for a networking event or to work on a project, but I desperately need a routine.

FInd a job. Last year I told myself I would "try" to find a job. No more trying. Screw the economy, I'm getting a job this year. Not sure how quite yet, but I'm sure it will involve a shitload of networking. and redoing my portfolio. I don't even have an animation reel for 2010. Why? Because I was doodling all day. Granted, I was focusing on my illustration and classical drawing skills, but if I really want to be an animator, I need to animate. And model. And rig. This might put a hamper on my daily comics.

Finding a focus. It's been over a year and a half and I still don't know what to focus on. So I've narrowed it down to Animation, storyboarding, character design, illustration, writing, game design, modeling, rigging...ugh. Too much. I still have not found an animation/game design studio that's looking for a jack of all trades and I have no idea what I'd be happy with doing for a living. Honestly, I'd be happy doing any of those things, but you can't really say that in an interview.

Dating I've been majorly half assing this one. On the one end I've been telling myself I don't have time to worry about relationships, I need to work on my portfolio, and also that I don't really deserve a relationship until I get a job and an apartment. But on the other end I've been telling myself if something HAPPENS to happen, then that's good too. But somethings happen and then I just let them unhappen. I don't like that. I'm still not sure if I deserve a relationship, but I'd like one, so I'm going to try the whole dating thing, y'know, when I'm not spending all my time looking for work and buffing my portfolio.

Those are the things I'm going to work on this year. Is there anything I missed that I desperately need to work on? What are you guys going to work on this year?