I quit smoking.

I can say that honestly, too, because I haven’t had a cigarette in ten days and even though it’s dead week and I want one, because the last two weeks of school are when I smoke even when I’m not smoking, I get a bit nauseous thinking about smoking.

I think this is partially due to the amount of ashes I sweep off the stairs at my sister’s house.

We generally take turns doing it, becuase it has to be done daily, otherwise a revolting compound of ashes, loose tobacco leaves that get pinched out of finished cigarettes, and dirt from the Dork-In-Law’s boots and the boys’ boots and my boots winds up in the hall.

From a purely poetic standpoint, I tell myself that I’ve walked through enough ashes in my life (mostly from bridge-burning) and I’d prefer not to have to do it on the way to school.

If you lived with four other smokers, all of whom are fairly heavy smokers at that, (the renter’s boyfriend chews, so he smokes less. I think he chews so he doesn’t have to get up to do it.) you would see the ashes from dozens of cigarettes at the end of the day and think to yourself, as I did this morning, “Damn. We put this shit in our bodies.”

Take a piece of paper out of your printer. Weigh it in your hand.

Now burn it in your kitchen sink with the window open. Weigh the ashes in your hand.

What you are not feeling in the significantly lesser weight of the ashes is what you would have imbibed if you had smoked that piece of paper.


Now, I’m not about to preach. Smoking is a choice each person makes, so long as they do it outside. Besides, I give it until next Tuesday before I fall right back off the wagon and have a Fuck-you-world, I-can’t-take-another-night-of-sleep-deprivation-and-school-induced-stress smoke.

I wouldn’t say it’s inevitable, but history suggests it’s bloody likely, unfortunately.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m running on two hours of sleep and I have a pile of work to do before I get my next two. Hopefully, they will not be the only two.


Why Koshka Is My Friend

Koshka is a disciple of the Wu.

When he was in high school (pre-gay outage,) Koshka went to one of those non-denominational churches with a rock band. He was one of the kids that set up chairs before the service. In spite of my upbringing, in which my parents raised me to be tolerant and respectful of other people’s religions, my role as the official Bad Influence among Koshka’s friends obligated me to tease him:

“Heheh. You were a Jesus kid.”

“Hardly, My friends and I used to sing Wu-Tang Clan lyrics to the tune of the hymns.”

“That’s rad.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to fuck with.”

This is why we’re friends.

Blogging Shitstorm Part Two: Beelzebub

Kali: “If you two don’t stop trying to kill each other, I’m gonna feed you both to Beelzebub!”

Dozer: “Who’s Beelzebub”

Kali: “A demon who eats children.”

Demonic: “How come he didn’t eat you?”

Kali: “Because Mom scares Beelzebub.”

This is the conversation I woke up to Friday morning. It’s fairly typical of my sister’s house.

Later in the day, because it was cold and nasty out, and because they’re annoyed at having to share me with Uji,  I went to read to the boys. On the way back to the boys’ room, Demonic shoved past, running full-tilt to get to the door first.

“Demonic Antony, how many times has your mother told you not to do that? Get back here.” Demonic has a very rounded head. He look s a little like a blond, badass Charlie Brown when he sulks.

 Dozer: “Pod, why are you dressed up nice? Are you going on another date with Uji?”

Me: “Yep.”



Demonic: “WHY?”

Me: “Because I like him.”

Demonic: “Pod, do you ever go on dates with Koshka?”

Me: “No, honey, Koshka only dates men.”

 Dozer: “Pod, who’s Beelzebub?”

“A demon who eats children,”  I echoed. Something I’ve discovered is that consistency is very important in rearing children. The argument of “Well, ___ lets me do it” is something we try desperately to avoid.

“I wanna see Beelzebub!”

“You bite your tongue., Demonic. We just vacuumed the floor, the last thing I want is a demon coming through it.”

“Is Beelzebub scared of you, too, Pod?”

“Naw, Dozer, he’s not scared of me. He’s just scared that if he does anything to me, your mom will take him out.”

Blogging Shitstorm Part One: Trailer for the Whatever Show!

Today’s post will actually be a three part vignette I like to call “Blogging Shitstorm” in honor of the hail that is falling thickly on the street below.  So, as per several of the crew’s posts in Facebook, I’ve discovered the trailer for the Whatever Show is go. I’m posting it here, so watch it and look for more…


Behind the Camera Explained

All righty, ladies and germs

The much-anticipated explanation has arrived! 😀

Over the weekend, I got drafted into another wild and crazy adventure.

My long-time friend Buck is a filmmaker. He, along with a few writers in Bellingham, have put their heads together and are WRITING A TV SHOW!!! Be excited.

Anyhow, with many talented folks assisting and starring, (including Suzy Q, Evie Squeezie, and local band Black Beast Revival) the fabulous crew filmed a promotional short and their PILOT EPISODE this weekend! Squee, squee, squee.

The show will be called the Whatever Show.

Initially, I was asked to fill in as an extra, should I be needed, and spent Friday evening hanging out with the gang in a telethon-setting, in which my class notebooks were scrawled in by the other actors. Hence the pooping duck with the heart. There are other drawings, but they do not fall into the realm of class-appropriate images…

While sitting in the KVOS TV station, I had a chance to chat with the other extras, most of whom I knew previously. the fellow behind me, however, was someone I had not met before.  I complimented him on his snazzy, vodka-molecule liquor flask (a prop for the shoot) and found myself chatting via notebook because he is deaf.

He goes by Uji. He’s a visual designer and artist, and the fire-tree-hand thingy with the heart  the three-headed skeleton with the mace tail and the heart is his work–a copy of a still from a silent, animated short he’s currently working on. Now, I’m normally fairly awkward talking to men, but I’m a passable writer, so I found myself in a pleasant conversation with him on paper and through gestures. I decided I would learn some phrases in sign language so I can look him in the eye when I speak to him, because it’s polite, and he seems the gentlemanly sort. >_> I’m not as eloquent with my hands, I’m afraid, but he’s very patient with my ridiculous attempts. I’m currently working on learning “How was your day?”

The Whatever Show centers around the last remaining variety show on television. The pilot episode uses the Bellingham Theater Guild as a set, so there are plywood castles in the background of some of the shots–part of the set of their coming production of “Becoming Eleanor,” about the rise of Eleanor of Aquitaine.

It’s based mostly in absurdist comedy and features local acts and a lot of ridiculous. Take the guy in whiteface. You can’t see it in the pictures, but he winds up with clown makeup, including a red goatee, and winds up lying over a greenscreened platform with the producer standing over him. About which Uji commented, “Romeo and Juliet.”

As with most of Buck’s productions, the tireless crew filmed long into the night. At one point, Suzy Q’s character, who sports a red bike helmet for liability reasons, dangles out of a doorway to nowhere that’s about thirty feet off the ground. Nieru, the skinny, grinning guy in the pink shirt, tosses a dozen coffee cups into the air and throws a jacket on like a reverse-Superman. My feet get featured in an improv sketch.

It’s three in the morning before I hit the hay on a Sunday night, grateful that I have afternoon classes.

Why I stand BEHIND the camera

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I’ll leave these to your imagination and explain them in a future post.






I drew none of the pictures this time. I had nothing to do with the whiteface. I’ll explain everything later, I swear.

Mad Computer Skillz (or “Where the hell is my Abacus?!”)

I decided it was time to monkey with the format a little. This required about two hours of dicking around before I decided it was passable. In the end, I realized that no matter how little knowledge I have of computers, I am a gigantic nerd. Case in point:

My new background is the Drustan Nebula, the plural of nebula is nebulae, and I think it’s funny that the Oxford comma keeps JFK and Stalin from becoming strippers. Observe:

See what I mean? By the way, if you laughed at this joke, YOU ARE ALSO A NERD.









P.S. WHy does STALIN have to be the one with the tassles? Yeck!