Sunday, December 07, 2014

The Little M3 Train That Could


For those in the know, I have been associated with a little outfit affectionately known as Male Media Mind for close to two years now and as with most long term relationships I have both loved and despised the project. And for those keeping score, the lineup has definitely changed over the years, the finite details of which will be fully disclosed in my book, “Those Fucked Up Goddamn Bears: Behind The Scenes of Male Media Mind” that will be published posthumously, five years after my death. But for now I can very honestly say that despite a few hiccups with some of the guys, I truly have appreciated each and every contributor that has ever participated with the endeavor. The whole thing, not for nothing, has been one amazing, ongoing and priceless life experience. You want to get to know who you really are and the type of person that you truly present to the world? Try diving head first into a sleuth of bears and see if you can escape with your ego unscathed.

Monday, July 14, 2014

The Hunger Games


I’m convinced Kat Von D is my spirit animal. Kat Von D is this tattoo artist based here in L.A. The first time I ever heard of her was when she was in all the tabloids for dating Jesse James… the ex-husband of Oscar Award winning actress Sandra Bullock. I remember because I was under the impression that Jesse James, a notorious man whore who sleeps with as many different women during the course of a day as a baby does taking a shit, slept with her while still being married to Sandra Bullock. Now Sandra Bullock is this very funny, personable, girl next door type with an amiable unaffected beauty. She doesn’t cake on the make-up, no boob job, no bleach bottle dye job, she’s the good girl you’d be lucky to take home. So when the papers started to smear Jesse James’ mug next to this ratchet looking chick covered from head to toe in tattoos I was thinking, what kind of stupid motherfucker does this dude have to be to leave America’s Sweetheart for this pasty faced gutter whore with a tattoo on her forehead? From that moment, looking at her devilish figure from the cover of The Enquirer I made an immediate and deep judgment call about her.

Friday, June 20, 2014

The Good Day


I have been in the worst mood. Last week I think was the absolute worst mood so far since the “Happening.”  I have so been wanting to slide my laptop into my heart and just record all of the horrible depths of depravity that it has experienced, which is a little odd to say right now considering the fact that I am in one of the best moods I have been in since the “Happening”. 

Monday, May 26, 2014

Paging Dr. God


I recently went to get a physical checkup and it turned out to be an unexpected monumental episode for me. Part of it was just the whole hospital culture of being surrounded by older people and sick people and the unavoidable crashing into your mortality by being around so many of them. When I got to the doctor my head just swirled with the different afflictions that I could have or I could be incubating only to be harvested at a future appointment. 

Friday, May 23, 2014

The United States of Malcolm




The only problem that I have found with having split personalities is that none of them know when to shut the fuck up; “Split Personality” in the vein of naming different aspects of my persona. Not necessarily in the dramatic sense a la “Sybil” but I’m thinking more on the level of “United States of Tara” minus the severe sexual molestation beginnings and… actual psychological diagnosis.   It’s more of a literary effect I have unintentionally adopted to form more complex characters in my writings, I often covert emotions into fantastical paradigms then give them a name. I have no idea how healthy this is but there is something about the compartmentalization of my feelings that seems rather productive mainly because in the broadest of strokes, I’m a hot mess. I’m just an over-emotional, hypercritical (and hypocritical), passionate artist and it’s great when I can hone in on some of that fervor, call it Ralph, and then walk away. It just works for me.