Ever Won a Spelling Bee?Have you ever had your heart stretched across an oceanMore Like This
or settled for the red ribbon?
When was the last time you told your best friend your life story
or planted an apple tree?
Have you ever invited the man next door over for a home cooked meal
or been there for somebody... for real?
When was the last time you kept a secret from yourself
or put a picture of your dad on the shelf?
Have you ever blamed your problems on the man above
or hidden from the one you love?
When was the last time you watched the sun come up
or filled your collegues coffee cup?
Have you ever laughed when you ran out of tears
or confessed to your dog all of your fears?
When was the last time you thanked your nameless bus driver
or defended a helpless stranger?
Have you ever saved a little girl's cat from the highest limb
or told your brother you love him?
When was the last time you climed that tree in the back yard
or caught your sister completely off guard?
Have you ever taken the hand of the stranger on the dance
Exoskeleton BluesA thick-wrapped night, where fog,More Like This
like weeds, had sprung
and drowned Decatur Street,
'cept for a few lit eateries;
spitballs of dotted light.
A figure, running
like The Man was licking
at its neck, a teary ribbon
down its cheek a-dripping
pooling at the throat.
Wet, rib-shaking sobs blew lungs
already straining from the run,
my heart a rabid, raving felon
hammering his bars.
His prints still smeared across my wrist,
his voice an earworm drilling fast
into my brain, I dove into the mist:
a veil of doors.
A girl, a boy, I could not care,
had it been Jesus standing there
arm interlinked with that bold whore
who'd sworn himself to me.
A thousand thoughts rose in my blood:
a convent, poison, all too good
and none would help, just armour, hard
all over, 'gainst such treachery.
The cry came high: a choirboy scream.
My heels scraped gravel as the moan
grew stronger. Veiled in Chartreuse, swarming
solid mists advanced.
The Feu-Fo-Lay, my mother said,
when I was younger, in my bed,
will get you.
We are Going to Live ForeverWe are Going to Live ForeverMore Like This
by Cody Dean Thomas
Mans best friend meets tragic end.
The story's sad but true.
The newspaper's won't headline this.
Need not the world be blue.
For its the man who misses him,
and the world has nothing to do.
Long life lived, but not long enough.
The man asks, "why friend must you leave?"
For childhood dreams tell of endless life,
Of games of catch and retrieve
Heaven has a place for dogs,
With endless bones to bury.
No need for weary legs my friend,
You can now run endless prairie.
Who will greet me when home I come?
The ball lays in the grass .
Memory haunts the faded senses,
And love will never pass
You feared the day would come soon boy,
Off to college to learn the trade.
You know you would be gone then,
You miss those days you played.
Goodbye Lucky, I love you.
Custom Breaking Bad FiguresMore Like This
Last year I sculpted up a few portraits of Bryan Cranston as Walter White from my favorite show "Breaking Bad". I was finally able to put the finishing touches on 3 custom figures of Walt, all of which were given to the creators of the show this past week.
It's been a helluva lot of fun, and a tremendous thrill to get to meet the artists behind this terrific show that has been so inspiring to me. Kinder people you will not meet!
So here's a look at the finished custom figures. These were pieced together from various sources, using Hot Toys bodies, and clothes I found on ebay and then altered. The heads were all painted by some talented friends of mine, and they really brought Walt to life. It's been a lot of work to try and piece these together in my free time, but I really enjoyed doing it.
ps- A random winner was chosen from my last giveaway. I'll do another giveaway in the coming months, I'm sure. thanks!
DEATH. IN LIMERICK FORM.So there was a guy named JimMore Like This
Who could climb tree limbs
Then a limb broke
Jim died in one stroke
And now no one cares about Jim
So Sally, a chick from New York
Made a mistake and got stabbed with a fork
To death she bled
The killer had fled
This is what happens when you don't use a spork
Peter was born in Japan
At twenty, he moved to Milan
But much to his pain
He got hit by a train
The moral is don't leave Japan
Milton got stabbed with a knife
Wielded by his crazy wife
And it must be said
Bitch was out of her head
And got put in an asylum for life
Oba was from lands faraway
He came to the US for a day
He didn't get far
Got hit by a car
Really, what else can you say?
Dick loved the hunting way
The shotgun, his selected forte
A real hunting ace
He shot a guy inna face
Jail is where he spends his last days
George believed he had all the luck
When he shot at a ten-point buck
Too bad the shot failed
Poor George got impaled
His final words were, "Oh fuck!"
So now my tale is done
I do hope yo
Who The Hell Is Mr. Idiot?Slamming your keyboard out of frustration is a rare phenomenon. Slamming it out of boredom, and with your head, is even rarer. Repeating it a couple of times, combined with consecutive Enter presses, results in your discussion partner on MSN blocking you. Dave didn't care about all of these things.More Like This
Dave mumbled 'fucker', and with a few clicks of his mouse he was in the world of his Media Player. Hidden between piles of punkrock and anything related to that, some metal and hardrock, under the recent staples of emocore, lied buried treasures and long sealed demons. Within a matter of seconds, Dave yelled and immediately banished a rap song to the realms of the Bin. He took breath, and placed the Playlist on random. He wasn't in the mood for anything.
Music was taken care off. Right. On to the boredom. Dave was too lazy to start any deep conversation with anyone, so he let the silence do his work. Soon, he could click away 4 windows on MSN. Woohoo. He used to be like that. Every time he c