Category: Bill’s Old-Old Blog

It’s official. Photoshop 7 is my new favorite toy.

I spent a good chunk of the afternoon playing with it off and on. A few weeks ago, my former high school journalism teacher asked me to do cartoon art for her wedding invitations. I had been the cartoonist for the school newspaper in high school.

It was a fun gig.

So I did the invitation art and she had it scanned so I could add color to it. You can view the images by clicking here, here, and here.

The resolution is a little low on the pictures as I had to turn them into JPEGS so no one would have to download them. The final ones are TIFF. I don’t know why I felt telling you that was relevant.

The original artwork was black and white and done with pencils and ink.

Soon, I’ll get some of the other stuff I’ve drawn lately scanned. I’m just a combination of lazy and busy and they mix kind of funny.

I had a really weird dream after I went back to bed.

I was driving my car on the interstate when all of a sudden, on it’s own, it accelerated to over 100 mph. I kept trying to brake and I removed my foot from the gas pedal, but it kept going faster.

There were lots of hills on the interstate and my car kept flying over them, much like that chase scene in the movie Bullitt.

Finally it was too much. My car was going up a very tall hill and at the last moment, I dove out the door and rolled onto the interstate before landing on my feet. Apparently in my dreams I have ninja-like reflexes.

I watched my car crash at the bottom of the hill in a smoldering wreck.

It was then that it turned into a fifty foot tall, sphinx-like, marble statue of my car. There were State Troopers flocking all around it (I wonder how they ended up in my dream? Ha ha.). Then I had to call my dad and tell him what happened.

“I crashed the car and it turned into a 50 foot tall statue.” I said.

He hung up on me.

That dream was awesome.

Jillian and I got pulled over by a State Trooper last night when we were drunk.

We were on foot.

We were walking around a lake.

He told us that we had to go move my car because the park was closed.

“How long could we maintain?” I wondered. How long until one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely desert was the last known home of the Manson family; will he make that grim connection when my attorney starts screaming about bats and huge manta rays coming down on the car?

If so, well, we’ll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere, ’cause it goes without saying that we can’t turn him loose. He’d report us at once to some kind of outback Nazi law enforcement agency and they’ll run us down like dogs.

Jesus, did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me?

-Hunter S. Thompson

“Look out the window. And doesn’t this remind you of when you were in the boat and then later that night you were lying and looking looking at the ceiling and the water in your head was not dissimilar from the landscape. And you thought to yourself why is it that the landscape is moving but the boat is still?”
-Crispin Glover, Dead Man

“I haven’t slept for ten days because that would be too long.”
–
“When I was on acid I discovered that margarine is better than butter. I saw through the bullshit. I saw beams of light and heard things that sounded like car horns.”
–
“Alcoholism is a disease, but it’s the only disease you can get yelled at for having. ‘Goddamnit, Otto, you’re an alcoholic!’ ‘Goddamnit, Otto, you have lupus!’ One of those does not sound right.”
-Mitch Hedberg

“You know, David Hasselhoff has that look of constant confusion, like when dogs get bred too much.”
-Henry Rollins

“Back in 1991 I used to hit old people with folding chairs. Now I am a rock and roll superstar.”
-Wesley Willis

I haven’t updated too much lately. I guess I’ve been too busy doing things. So, I’d apologize but I’ve been having too much fun to feel bad about not updating.

I’ve been drawing a lot again. I get bored looking at webpages at work and constantly find other ways to entertain myself. In the past couple months I’ve tried sculpting things out of tinfoil and play-doh (seperately, not together) I purchased at the dollar store before work.

The last few days though, I’ve been drawing cartoons again like a mad man. I’m pretty proud of them. As soon as I have a chance to get over to my folks house to use their scanner or one falls out of the sky and shows up in my room, I’ll post some of them.

I went to a Lesbian bar last night with my new pal Kira. There were a lot of tough dykes there. It was cool. I played all the John Mellencamp songs on the jukebox.

I don’t have much to say right now, but the last week’s been pretty good to me.

Mr. Night sky, can you come a little quicker? I don’t feel home in the day time, and I never will. There’s just always something missing from my world when the people are out scurrying.

Give me a town where everything is shut down, save for a dive on the corner where I can hang my hat.

Give me a town where the people have gone to bed, and won’t complain when I come stumbling and howling.

Mr. Night Sky, Mr. Night Sky, I’m on fire, can you hear me?

Mr. Night Sky, Mr. Night Sky, why’d you leave so soon?

I was behind the wheel of the car, and though I could see what was going on, I couldn’t get comfortable at all. My back was too arched, my feet were too far up, and the steering wheel seemed to far away. And I was dreaming of you.

Mr. Night Sky, I drank too much last night.

Mr. Night Sky, I didn’t say some things I should have said.

Mr. Night Sky, in the mornings I feel good as dead.

I’m a day late and several dollars short. I ate rice for a week to soak up the whiskey and sew my stomach back together. Every night I stand on the front porch looking for your stars, but they’re too dim to see in the street light.

Mr. Night Sky, I thought we were friends.

You stick with your friends no matter what. No matter the situation. Otherwise, what else would you call them? I’ll make no mistake and offer criticism unless it is due. And if it’s my business.

Mr. Night Sky, I dreamed about running away.

I got in my car and drove a thousand miles to the desert. When I got to the desert it started to rain and I took my clothes off and walked straight through it all. The cacti smiled and the vultures offered me my share. But I walked straight through it all.

I kicked every sign of life I saw and pissed in every oasis.

I took the sand in my hands and swallowed it whole, excreting powder for days, not caring a bit.

I fought a Gila monster in a race against time.

I came out just fine, Mr. Night Sky. I came out just fine.

Finally, I came to a house that had been made just for me thousands of years before by people I never met. You called them Anasazi, Mr. Night Sky. I called them family, the same way I call you brother. And we are brothers, Mr. Night Sky.

You can call it walking away, I’ll call it surrendering. Surrender, surrender, but don’t give yourself away.

I’m waiting, brother. I’m waiting.

And here it is:

[BROKEN IMAGE: ~the.f.bomb/images/newtattoo.jpg]

For a high resolution version of it, CLICK HERE.

[BROKEN LINK: ~the.f.bomb/images/bill_ink.jpg]

Yes, it’s still seeping.

For quality tattoos, visit HERE

[BROKEN LINK: liquidcouragetattoo.com]

And that’s all I got today.

There are many places you can find desperate men. Many times you’ll see them lulling around gun stores. You can always tell the types. They’re the ones who look at the cheap handguns, because even though they want to kill someone or themselves, they’re frugal and want to do it as cheaply as possible.

Look for them sometime.

There will be an old man with Vietnam War tattoos behind the counter asking if he can help them find anything.

Know what they’ll say?

“Oh, I’m just browsing.”

Browsing? Please. Browsing is something that is done at leisure for nothing but the pleasure of looking at things you will never own or use. If you want to shoot someone or yourself, why would you just say, “Oh, I’m browsing?”

Because desperate men aren’t thinking men.