May I present to you as a token of good faith for bothering to read this rot

my all-time favorite animated full-length film, American Pop by Ralph Bakshi.

Fuck yes, Hulu.
Thank you for making the end of this decade for me.

Cheers,
and most likely only one more post for this wretched year of 2009,
see.eye

Panama

It's hard to take you seriously when you're shaking your newly-found beergut to Van Halen on a stripper pole in a dive in Jack London Square. On a Sunday night.

This special report was brought to you by the Vicious & Stoney Brigade (on loan from LARP, Confidential), who kindly remind you, "не более глупо трахает!", and use a condom.

P.S. Just go away already, 2009. And don't let the door hit your ugly ass on the way out.

Happy Wookie Life Day

Wonder if I could've gotten Russian radio with those antlers.
May tonight find you safe, warm and spiritually intact in some shape or form.

Live long and prosper
see.eye
x

Puke like a pterodactyl

I keep running into people I haven't seen/heard heads or tails from in ions. Babies having babies. Parents of childhood friends, bullies that don't remember breaking my brother's ribs in elementary school that slap me on the back and ask how same brother is doing. They reek of nostalgia, high school, hair grease and cheap cologne. Not all necessarily a bad thing, but like many things, they are good in small doses.
There's nowhere to go but here, a series of stripmalls with a mayor, a house party with pieces of the wall missing and painted over (sidenote: said-house party was the first time in a while I felt awkward for showing up somewhere alone)

I have frequented a bar so often in the Tri-City, that rather than just informing the bartender that some kids lost their lunch in the back, and so she doesn't have to worry about it on her smoke break, I go as far as to swipe at it with the mop that's kept by the ice machine, next to the service sink.

I need to get out of here. Too many inebriated or far too sober moments of going back and forth through the doorways, always dependent on company, but still a varying level of wondering, "What the fuck am I doing here?"

In other news:
Plans have been solidified to be civil and asphyxiate in the nostalgia of being 16, clumsy and shy, on the third day of 2010, and have a cup of coffee.

Only 9 days left in 2009.
I'm running on no sleep and stuttering fingers.

Insomnia meatloaf [that's not vegan],
xo
see.eye.

to the brim

High Grandma from melissa pare on Vimeo.

I am filled to the brim with absolute warm and fuzzies for a little gremlin I have never met, but I hope to remedy that soon.
Desert in the winter, snow on cacti; yes, please and thank you.

However, Christmas cheer is not in any fiber of my being, currently. Although, a postal worker did come into work today, and I just counted myself lucky that I'm only dealing with retail, not complete twats at the post office.

Tonight's/this morning's plan: get to bed at a decent hour. I'm thinking sometime before 5:00 AM.
Wide-eyed, cranky yet content, and crawling to bed,
see.eye.

Its nothing but time and a face that you lose

It took me a few seconds to recognize your dad when he came into my work. He's just as I remember him, actually, kind of sweet and intelligibly bumbling. There's a little bit more gray in his hair. He sold us 14 boxes of books, mostly old romance novels. Were they your grandmother's? He was looking for radio transistor manuals, I guess he and your mom liked playing around with your sound equipment too. I didn't know they had gotten licenses to broadcast on the radio. I don't know if it was out of habit that he told me you were coming back for your birthday.

Did you know your cousin is getting married? You know the one I dated two years before I met you?

God that was strange to see you again
Introduced by a friend of a friend
Smiled and said 'yes I think we've met before'
In that instant it started to pour

I found a box of the comics we did together in high school. Remind me to show you sometime.
To the sound of the pouring rain,
see.eye.

Vierzig, or "B-Flat"

Today is my brother Micheal's fortieth birthday, marking an anniversary also for the concert of Altamont where the Hell's Angels broke lose while working security where our then-seventeen year old father had just dropped acid and was having the worst trip of his life.

That being said, know that although I very much suck recently at keeping in touch, he is very much awesome. Even Spike Jonze says so.

I'm Albuquerque-bound as soon as I can, my Paré Three.

Much love from the tepidly frozen East Bay,
see.eye.

P.S. Mike, I hate that this is the most recent picture of you and me (i.e. three and a half years ago). Remedy this soon, we shall.

She was lookin' like an erotic vul-cha

Rather than whine about the past 18 months of my life, I shall only say this:
Few and far in between have I ever had a problem that could not be at least temporarily satiated with art, cartoons and coffee.
Therefore; two in one, and a politically incorrect Bugs Bunny cartoon

see.eye.

Wonders never cease

1. By some strange turn of events, I got/get to see two people I'm completely enamored with, within the same week.
   
2. Thanks to Facebook, saw a friend became a fan of the very same band whose lead singer I attacked with icewater after he called me a dyke in front of a whole bar. Did I mention he was wearing a viking helmet and wearing a Tarzan sheath whilst playing a neon green cello WHILE he was doing this? See above picture. I can't make this shit up. Post Script: Dear sir, if somehow you end up reading this -waves- I hope I fried your wireless set, fuckface.

I haven't looked forward to a Friday this eagerly in a long time.
Next episode of See Eye:
The Great Christmas [What the] Dickens Faire

Cheers, yours into almost certain and coveted oblivion,
see.eye.

We're slowly taking over ...

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

RIP Zombie Sony Brick

My heavy/clunky brick camera, which asphyxiated in a pit of sand on a Santa Cruz beach, and then came back from the dead, finally bit the dust, on this, the day of our Flying Spaghetti Monster, 2nd of December, 2009.

Who wants to hook yer girl up with a fucking scanner/digital camera?

Cheers, and will make it through this year if it kills me,
c.i.