Zombies Walkin'

So we, the recently undead of South Austin, converged on South Congress to walk around, moan, and promote our upcoming fundraiser and our forth coming show.  We were well received by the 1st Thursday crowd, probably because we weren’t trying to eat anyone.  We made sure to gorge ourselves on plenty of flesh and brains before we showed up.  Our plan was to promote “Zombie Awareness.”  We thought that going on an all out brain and flesh feeding frenzy would have been counter productive to our goal.  Though there were many growns of protest.  It wasn’t easy I tell yuh.  There was a lot of healthy flesh on South Congress last night, and while we swiped at a few folks I don’t think anyone was actually eaten.  I say I don’t think anyone was eaten, but Jessica and Robert looked a bit gorier after the walk then when we started.  Oh well you know what they say, You can’t make a brain omelette with out breaking a few heads.  In the end we passed out about 400 flyers and freaked out hundreds of Austin citizens.


Comments

Anonymous (http://www.loadedguntheory.com/blog/index.php/listblog/.html)

2011-06-16T15:06:15.000Z

Hi - I am definitely glad to discover this. Good job!

Not such a bad decade...

Well I made it through my twenties…I gave marriage a try, divorce ended up being the way to go, an over active temper nearly led me to self-destruct, where did my hair go, I fell in love twice (the second time has proved the longer of the two falls, I’ve yet to reach the L bottom E), disciplined though rarely obedient soldier-pseudo hippie independent free thinking civilian, always: just Bill, arrogance told me I knew everything, ignorance shoved a mirror in my face, the glare that blinded me was enlightenment (still seeking), I discovered the value of a Sunday afternoon (toss in a pint and a friend, the value becomes priceless), the military allowed me to travel, the military took my freedom, wasted days hung over finally taught me moderation (some times I forget), I lost myself in San Antonio (birth place), I found myself in Austin (home)…I’m going to sleep for a few hours, and then I’m going to get up and watch the sun rise.


Comments

Julie

2005-10-20T19:45:54.000Z

Wow, you’ve been busy.  Sounds like you had a good, fractured 20’s and can now settle down to your great, focused and grown-up thirties.  Thanks for letting me celebrate your birthday with you, I feel honored;)

John Berryman

2006-07-19T20:51:16.000Z

That “poem” is horrendous. It’s af if the ugly step sister of e.e. cummings spawned a child with George Hamilton.

I Pledge Allegiance...

I pledge allegiance to the almighty dollar of the United States of Consumers with materialism and greed for all…I had to work on Independence Day.  I was listening to NPR while I ate breakfast and was treated to a reading of the Declaration of Independence, my first thought once the reading was finished was “elected officials should be required to read this daily.”  When I got to work the first call I took was from a guy who asked me what our store hours were for the day.  I told him.  His response was, “so you work for one of those places that celebrate the almighty dollar rather than independence.  Sorry you have to work dude.”  Click.  He inspired the above pledge.  I felt bad for the rest of the eight hours I was at work.  I wasn’t the one who decided we’d be open for the 4th, some corporate exec who was probably spending the day at a barbeque decided that, but I have free will.  I don’t have to be a part of the problem.  I decided I’d worked there long enough.  Time to move on.  If anyone knows of a good job out there let me know (I’m serious).  We were busy that day.  It was sad.

Anal Bleaching

Got your attention didn’t I.  Well the title wasn’t meant to get your attention; this entry is really about anal bleaching.  Caution:  This entry is what some might consider “Filthy.”  And the gutter words, which I use gratuitously, reflect that fact.  Apparently people are bleaching their anuses.  That’s right; people are applying bleach to their butt holes.  I first heard of this phenomenon from a close friend.  She asked me if I bleached my butt.  I looked at her in horror and said, “No.  Why do you ask?”  “Well I heard people did, just wondering if you did.” said she.  “Who would do such a thing?”  Asked I.  “Australians and Porn Stars.”  Said she.  “Oh.” said I.  The conversation progressed from there, depending on how you look at it.  I couldn’t figure out why someone would do this, so I did a google search.  Yup, it’s just what I expected.  Vanity run-a-muck.  People are bleaching the dark brown pigmented area of their sphincters to make them appear pink or just white.  Who’s doing it?  The “Fashion Trend” as it was dubbed in a few articles I read, appears to have started in Australia, was popularized by porn stars, and Lara Flynn Boyle’s name seems to be synonymous with it.  Alright, vanity aside, bleach is bad for your skin, and from the various articles I read, is not recommended by anal sex enthusiasts.  Maybe I’m just being narrow minded and old fashioned, at some point earlier in time dying your hair was probably looked upon with equal disdain, but we’re talking about bleaching your brown eye.  It just seems so unnatural. Doesn’t your poopshoot put up with enough shit (pun intended) without people trying to make it look prettier than it needs to be?  Is it worth screwing something up and being forced to shit into a bag attached to your side for the rest of your life in order to have a prettier pinker pucker?  I’m not narrow minded, I say if you’ve got a small cock learn to use it better than the guys with the bigger ones, small breasts are well…they’re just so damn pretty don’t make em’ bigger, and butt holes are brown.  Didn’t the Romans start doing this just before the Visigoth’s trampled Rome?  Something to think about.  Having said all that, I feel I need a shower.


Comments

franny

2005-05-19T11:21:40.000Z

Check this out http://www.whitestarr.nl

Forget bleaching, bling your ass now

Kingmissile

2005-06-02T01:56:27.000Z

Typical myopia. As a black man, I find my anus is too light in contrast to my ass and legs.

mcoker

2005-06-10T22:46:49.000Z

kingmisslie, maybe you should poop more

Kingmissile

2005-06-12T00:26:59.000Z

It’s not so much pooping more that will help, it’s indulging in the twinks and rim-jobs less.

Anonymous

2005-07-13T04:34:44.000Z

the dark colour is our bodies successful attempt, to protect areas that get wet. all natuaral colouring

steve

2006-07-15T19:58:10.000Z

Here is the world’s first anal bleaching blog. Even has a forum!

http://www.anal-bleaching.us

samiam

2008-04-29T04:15:59.000Z

I AM FUCKING HYSTERICAL LAUGHING! my friends and i were just discussing this! and three of them live in australia too…but they don’t bleach them… is you’re ass one shade off? try tide for assholes! got ring around the bunghole? how but smoker’s ass? lmao. oh i am so glad someone blogged this lmao.

Martha won\'t leave me alone...

Martha Stewart is out of jail.  Who gives a fuck?  I’ve either seen Martha’s face or heard Martha’s name more times in the past three days than I’ve unzipped my fly.  That’s a lot.  It started with her smiling face on Newsweek.  Then as I was driving home the other day NPR decided to waste five minutes of its air time with an article about the photo on Newsweek’s cover, which isn’t even a real pic of Martha.  Apparently it’s a “photo illustration”, her face not her body.  When I got to the gym this morning the TV in the locker room was tuned to CNN.  The reporters were discussing “what’s next for Martha?” Apparently a reality TV show.  An hour later when I went back into the locker room to get my stuff, there she was again. Why is she following me!!!  What the fuck did I do to Martha?  I never judged her.  She got busted for shady trading practices.  She was just trying to make an extra buck, what other red blooded capitalist wouldn’t have done the same thing.  What do I care?  But now she’s every where.  Oh wait, not every where.  Martha now enters the house arrest portion of her penalty faze.  For the next few months she’ll be stuck at her 153 acre ranch in Bedford N.Y.  Martha is still renovating the place.  What the fuck kind of detention is that?  The woman lives to renovate.  What’s next?  Michael Jackson doing hard labor as the towel boy at a boy’s prep school.  If Martha invades my dreams I’ll stop sleeping.  What really sickens me is now I give a fuck.  I just wasted ten minutes of my time writing this.  Those media fucks did their job, they made me take notice.  Damn them to hell.  Alright, I’m done with it!  It’s in cyber space now.  I no longer give a Fuck…ahhh…That’s better.


Comments

Julie

2005-03-08T22:50:13.000Z

apparently, she is the latest obsession.  Did you catch the bit on the Daily Show last night?  Apparently reporters are camped out on her lawn, spying into her windows for mere glimpses of her.  I think it’s all rather disgusting, leave the woman alone!

My own personal hell

I woke up this morning and it was still dark outside.  I looked at my clock and it read 10:30am. This was strange because I had set my alarm for 8am.  I usually wake up five minutes before my alarm goes off, and here it was two and a half hours later and I was just waking up.  I thought maybe my clock was wrong, after all it was still dark outside, and it couldn’t be later than 6am.  Deciding to check the clock on my phone, I got out of bed and went to my desk.  I suddenly realize my room is a total mess, but I had just cleaned it the day before.  Even if I hadn’t just cleaned it, it’s never this messy.  My phone had been charging all night, but wouldn’t turn on.  What the fuck is going on, I wondered?  I start down the stairs to see if my roommates are up and about.  There are all these weird eerie shadows everywhere and the air is stale.  Once I get down stairs I don’t recognize my home.  It’s clearly my home but it’s ten times worse than the mess I encountered in my room.  There are random piles of trash scattered about, towers of old pizza boxes, and dishes caked with rotting food everywhere.  I call out to my roommates and they grunt their presence.  I carefully make my way into the living room and two morbidly obese people are lying on our sofas and picking food off of plates that are resting on their swollen bellies.  I wasn’t sure if they had eaten my roommates, or worse, if they were my roommates.  One of them said, “Hey Bill, grab a plate and sit down.  The View is coming on.”  I sort of just crouched down and thought, I’ll call one of my friends and maybe they can help me figure this out.  Wait, I don’t have any friends.  I can’t call anyone for help!  There was no one I could call!  Well I must have a job.  I do have a job, and this feeling of dread struck me.  I work at a crappy outlet mall in a store that sells second hand underwear and socks.  I’ve slipped into my own personal hell!  I make for the front door, and of course, it won’t open.  When it finally does open, I’m greeted by racks and racks of socks with holes in them, and piss stained drawers, and then some derelict old guy asks me where the fitting room is at…and…then I wake up.  I dreamt this earlier this morning.  When I looked at my clock the time was 7am and I still had an hour before I had to be up.  I just continued to lay in bed breathing easy, a distant thought in the back of my mind, and I smiled…

A general cure for the blues...

I had planned to write about my outrage over the outcome of last week’s election and my personal plans to start a revolution, but over the weekend I was fed some pretty good medicine and I’m going to tell you about it.  First, a warning to you. You might just miss out on the best non-medicinal therapeutic cure ever, but if you hate stories about peoples kids and grandkids and all the cute wonderful things they do, stop reading now.  Children and kittens might just be the best psychological therapy ever.  I spent a weekend in San Antonio recently and much of that time was spent with my nieces, 2 and 4 years of age. Watching them play and playing with them made me remember times and events in my life that I had stashed away and hadn’t thought about in many long years.  Between giving them pony rides and painting their wee toe nails, the highlight of my time with them was when my youngest niece, Sierra, got a glimpse of some dust floating in the air.  The dust was visible only because it was floating through a patch of sunlight.  The light got her attention, and she stopped playing whatever game it was she was playing to stair at it.  She then began to wave her hands through it.  I asked her what she saw and she said she saw fairy dust.  Then she proceeded to gather it in handfuls and dumped it on me. Fairy dust!  How wonderful is that!?  You and I see a common nuisance and she sees the remnants of fairies.  It immediately made me recall my childhood and I remembered playing with the dust in the air and wondering what it was.  Is it fairly dust or is it a wide range of dead skin, pollen, lint, and mold?  My adults mind tells me that it’s nothing more than a mere mingling of organic and inorganic flotsam floating about.  But what if our child’s perception is closer to the mark and it’s the dust left behind by caravanning fairies.  My nieces made me remember that what I perceive to be imagined might be closer to reality.  Fairy dust.  Viva la revolution.


Comments

Julie

2004-11-08T15:24:11.000Z

One, thanks for updating your diary, and two, thanks for such a cute uplifting story on Monday morning.  I wish we all would put our cynicism aside every once in a while and believe in fairies!

If humans had tails...

I would like to pose a question.  If we human beings were to have evolved up to this point in time with the addition of a tail, would you wear it in or would you wear it out.  I’m not suggesting a small nubby piece of flesh.  I mean a real tail about two to three feet in length, hairy for some and shorn for others.  So what do you think?  Is the tail worn inside the pants or allowed to wag freely about.  My guess is that it would probably depend on the person and the event.  And naturally, as with all appendages, the tail would be a welcoming canvas for various tattoos and piercings.  I can see it easily being a way of indicating mood, particularly the more amorous moods.  I brought up the subject at work the other day and some of the responses were very amusing.  So what are some of your observations?


Comments

tarv the impossible

2004-06-01T18:34:07.000Z

I’m pretty sure that dress codes, whether they are enforced or merely “understood”, would have a lot to say about this.  For example, many schools would probably have a requirement that all tails must be tucked inside the pants/skirt, whatever, which would lead to students pushing the limits of such rules by having the top of their tails (ie, tail cleavage) sticking out of the top of their pants, or perhaps girls would let a bit of tail stick out of the bottom of their skirts to catch a boy’s eye.  Office environments would probably not have enforced dress codes, but it would probably be understood that men wear their tails either in, or else out, but tucked away in their tail pockets.  Women would likely wear theirs out more freely.  And of course most pants would be made with tail pockets to let you wear your tail out, but still be discreet about it.  Tail scarves would be a regular item in every clothing store every winter.  Men’s tails would probably be worn with hair while women would probably shave their tails.  That’s the way it is with legs, so I’m assuming the same for tails.  I’m betting some men would be bold and do a “lion cut” where they shave all but a patch at the tip.  Tail stylists will probably emerge and every salon and barber shop will offer such a service.

Billius

2004-06-01T22:51:41.000Z

I like the idea of a tail pocket, it conjures a practical but hilarious image.  I could definatley see various styles emerging in the grooming of ones tail hair.  The “lion cut man” would probably be the same guy who suffers from penis envy and drives a corvette, camaro, hummer, or any truck that doesn’t fit into a normal sized parking space.  Tail envy would become a social anxiety.  Tail extensions and reductions would be added to the enhance your penis or breasts packages at the local chop shop.  And then of course the tail fetish porn market would explode.

Tara

2004-06-06T15:30:44.000Z

I can see it now. A lion cut tail and a mullet.

Ian

2004-06-08T00:34:20.000Z

Well the whole idea of where you would put your tail seems to me to depend a lot on tail biology.  Do tails get cold easily like noses, are they susceptible to breakage easily?  Are they very sensitive like other things located in the between the legs region?  Are they prehensile and can be used like an extra hand?  Are they strong?  I mean, there are so many things to consider when it comes to tails that I think it would be very difficult to decide one way or another to wear them.  I mean you wouldn’t want to tuck a hairy tail down your pant leg on a 100 degree day now would you?  Nor let it get frostbitten when it comes to that…

e-bo the letter

2004-06-08T16:41:18.000Z

One question to consider is what kind of tails would humans have.  Would we all have the same basic tail, or would there be varying degrees of the phenotype? Logically, humans would have the same tail type, mostly likely very primate in nature.  I think it’d be cool to have a prehensile tail. It’s like an extra hand.  And how cute would it be to see a little kid hanging on to his/her parent’s tail? Then again, imagine what the porn industry could do with a prehensile tail.  Oh my.

But what if some peeps had lion-like or dog tails, and others had rat tails or fluffy bunny tails?  Would there be a preference?  I could see discrimination arising from this.  The elite/ruling class would consider certain tail types as a sign of genome superiority / inferiority, or at least a matter of social class.  And the top super models would probably have the same tail type and all the poor school girls would cry because their tails aren’t considered fashionable or pretty.  And that leads to cosmetic surgery.  I’m sure plastic surgeons would have a field day if having a certain tail was deemed necessary to achieve maximum socio-political success.

Kaishiomo (http://www.loadedguntheory.com/blog/index.php/listblog/.html)

2010-08-06T03:42:50.000Z

wow…thats really interesting…heres a question, exactly where would the tail grow from? Lower back? right above the crack, or slightly lower down? But then there is this, sadly, porn girl who has an obvious tail stub. Probably a mutation of sorts but yeah. If someone were to study her (Man that sounds cruel) that would answer some questions. and someone asked the question if it would have similar sexual effects on the body like how some girls get horny when there boobs or butt gets fondled, would the tail be like that too? …and you wouldn’t be able to call it a pair of underwear anymore because of the third hole. ;)

Anonymous (http://www.loadedguntheory.com/blog/index.php/listblog/.html)

2011-04-08T14:02:36.000Z

The tail would probably be an extension of the spine as is the case with most mammals that are blessed with one.

Skip your ass off

When was the last time you skipped?  I’m not talking about work, or bills, or your taxes.  Remember that thing you did as a kid that wasn’t quite hopping but wasn’t running either.  Maybe you did it when you had ants in your pants or you remembered mom was making sloppyjoes for dinner.  I’m talking about skipping.  Well I did it for the first time, since I don’t know the fuck when, just a couple of weeks ago.  I was on a camping trip with a very special friend of mine and she suggested, as we were walking through the woods, that we skip.  I grinned, but wasn’t surprised by her suggestion, though I did take pause to think about it.   I was really just trying to remember the last time I had done it.  Before I knew it she was off, and without thinking, I was following her, skipping like a seven year old.  Just like riding a bike, you don’t forget.  The effect it had on me was rapid.  I immediately began to smile and chuckle.  For lack of any better term, I felt like I was playing.  You knew that bit was coming didn’t you.  As an older person I could appreciate certain nuances I didn’t recognize as a child.  The constant rhythm was very soothing, and by the time we had finished we had covered a long of distance in a short time, and it was fun!  I know all of this sounds a bit selfhelpish, but I really think there might be some therapeutic value to skipping.  I recommend you try it.  The next time you’re outside or near a long hallway and no one is looking, or better yet do it in front of a lot of people, just start skipping.  I guarantee euphoric results.  Create your own random act of tomfoolery.  The world might be a better place for it.

P.S. Sorry for the hearts and flowers…


Comments

Tarv

2004-04-14T13:55:38.000Z

Wow, if asked to describe the mechanics of skipping, I think I’d have a pretty hard time, but yours is pretty much right on…not quite hopping, not quite running, but somewhere in-between.  In spite of its difficult to describe nature, we still all know how to do it.  Oooh, let’s play some duck-duck-goose!

Julie

2004-04-14T14:51:51.000Z

You’re right on the whole playing thing.  Bedlam requires you to do some pretty silly stuff, and at first I felt sheepish, but after you realize everyone else looks just as silly, it becomes a lot of fun.  We’ve played tag (which I hated as a child, but find now is actually fun), Red Light Green Light, and all sorts of silly things I haven’t played in at least 15 years.  Thankfully, there has been NO dodgeball.  I hate dodgeball.  I still have flashbacks to dodgeball.  And I’ve realized that the reason I hated tag is a child is because the fat, slow kid is always the one to get tagged first.  But when you play it with adults, theatre geeks no less, you realize that we were ALL the first one to get tagged as children, and it doesn’t seem so masochistic.  Anyway, let’s cut the mushy shit, someone bring on the sarcasm!

A Warm and Fuzzy Rant

I’d like to open my first entry by thanking the other members of this company for asking me to be a member of this great troupe and giving me the opportunity to express my creativity at the possible expense of their credibility.  It’s been a pleasure working with them this past year.  Thanks LGT.  I hope you know what disaster you may have unleashed upon the earth.  Enough of the warm and fuzzy, now to the rant.  I went to the theatre the other day to catch a flick and was force fed twenty minutes of shitty advertising.  Has anyone else been accosted by this horrible barrage of product jockeying that has been fashionably dubbed “The Twenty”?  Pre movie entertainment once consisted of plugs for the on sight consession stand.  You remember the drill.  A hotdog, a soda, a box of candy, and a bag of pop corn would do this crazy song and dance routine, enticing us to rush the concession stand.  Dancing junk food always throws my appetite into high gear.  I’ll allow for differences according to region and the fact the dancing junk food might have been a lucid dream, but it seemed harmless enough.  Eventually Oscar Meyer and company were 86ed and replaced with poor pop music and a blank screen, which wasn’t all bad.  The music could be tuned out with good conversation.  Then ad execs decided there was far too much time being wasted before movies started. Next thing you know we’re staring at a slide sponsored by Coca Cola asking a trivia question to a shitty movie.  Admittedly the slide show of ads is great for local business and is also easily ignored if one chooses not to look but now I’m being insulted by Tiger Woods doing a bastardized turn as Bill Murray’s “Carl” from Caddyshack to plug Amex, lame ass music videos and TNT telling me I should keep my ass glued to the sofa and watch their shitty syndicated line up. Depending on the theatre your visiting you may be witness to Bob Dole ogling Brittney Spears as he watches a Pepsi commercial.  It’s supposed to be cute, but it’s not.  It’s the stuff nightmares are made of.  This will not stand.  “This aggression will not stand man”.  I realize being a patron of theatres only feeds the beast, so save the “don’t go to the movies” take.  I see as little film as possible while it’s in theatres.  Showing up just before the movie starts is no good, unless you want to throw your $8 away on a bad seat.  Advertisers feed off of wasted time.  Starve them by talking to the person next to you or here’s a novle thought take a book and read before the show starts.  Large chain theatres could learn something from locally owned theatres, like a certain draft house, about pre movie entertainment.  But that would probably screw with how they operate and do business.  I’m sure that none of this will do anything in the way of stopping this beast. I really just need to get that off my chest.  I promise my next entry will be a bit lighter.  Ahhh…think I’ll go have a coke.


Comments

Movie-theatre phobia girl

2004-03-30T15:26:01.000Z

This is one of the many reasons why I cannot stand to go see a movie in the theatre anymore.  And the movie theatre chains have the balls to say they have to have the advertising revenue or they can’t afford to show movies.  Bullcrap.  They charge me EIGHT BUCKS to watch advertising???  And then there’s always some asshole chatting away the whole movie and then some other asshole’s cellphone goes off?  See, Tim, this is why something I used to do at least once, sometimes twice a week is no longer fun.  This is why I don’t go to the movies at the theatre.  I have a great couch and I can rent something for a quarter of the cost and watch it at home on a screen that’s large enough for me.  And that’s what I’ll continue to do, except for the drafthouse.  Long live the drafthouse!

la la boy

2004-03-30T17:43:24.000Z

I’ve been hitting the Arclight for special occasion movies. The reason I only go there for certain flicks is because the place charges 15 bucks a ticket on weekend nights. 10 bucks any other night. If you’re gonna spend that kind of money on a movie, it damn well better be a good one.

One of the reasons they charge so much is because they don’t show commercials. One of the few theaters I have seen in L.A. who have avoided the commercial trap. Of course, if these people one day go the way of the ACT III, then somebody’s getting firebombed.

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