new cartoon i'm absolutely batshit over: Archer. only 4 episodes out but they're phenomenal.






feeling a little run down from the move... i'm too autistic sometimes to cope with simple shit like moving. still getting settled in... i need a set of dresser drawers for my room... sadly my swingin' bachelor clothes rack just doesn't fit. frig. OH NO, NOT A TRIP TO IKEA!!!! yeah, that's how i roll.

mostly avon makeup... i think?

TO THE FUCKWIT THAT KEEPS POSTING TO THIS, STOP BEING A FUCKWIT. THANKS. sandbagging it today

Hands shoving down my shoulders. Some heated demands, some soothing. My head ripped around trying to see what I was facing as the zip of fluorescent light chains passed me by. I felt my legs kick, trying to work double-time for my arms curled up and in agony. I’m not supposed to be here, I’m supposed to push the gurney. I’m supposed to be taking charge and soothing a violent patient… this isn’t really happening.

Screaming now because I can’t process this scene. Cut it loose and howl. That deep-seeded hurt that rips the voice out of their throats. No one speaks until the Big Boy slams me down hard with a definitive STOP.

Now I’m crying. I hurt. I can smell hospital. I can hear the click of the wheels under me. The smell bed linen makes when you breathe in. the sharp wafting smell radiating off my arms. Burned skin collapsing into itself as we move along. My mouth is open moaning and shuck it in. it’s a chemical taste and I want to throw up. I want to fight and run off the gurney. Fast and far and away from this scene that I’m being escorted to. It’s an emergency. Why am I not standing up to help?

I’m suffocating in the competing stinks of emergency room and the chemicals smoldering into me. I’m making myself choke from trying to breathe and not wanting to actually catch a scent. From the side I hear a metal clink that I recognize from years of putting people into restraints. Padded leather with wide rectangles to easily tie someone down. For therapeutic purposes only. To get a waist restraint would make me throw up for sure…. I can’t possibly deserve this.



I have applied restraints to people more than I’ve gotten laid. What a horrible ratio. Wrists and ankles: 4 point retstraint. Wrists and ankles and waist: 5 point. Posey jacket. Jumper with a zipper up the back so you can’t get out of it. Lateral shoulder restraint with a sheet with someone in a wheelchair. Arm hold. Sleeper hold. Anything to stop someone from hurting themselves or someone else. Something fast. Something strong in case your partner fucks up and lets go. Something that won’t bruise too much. Something that’ll assert your role and the underlying need to be in control of the situation. Fast as possible. And for the love of god, don’t break any bones or dislocate something out of a socket. The doctors hated treating someone violent. It was just such a damn nuisance.



My first supervisor came from one of the roughest asylums in England. Literally an evolved Bedlam that schooled you on your feet before you got raped or choked to death. And that’s not even for the sake of a dramatic statement, really, it’s what you were up against. My supervisor was hard and silent from years of being a nurse in that environment. She packed up that persona and brought it with her to Canada. The name Mean Jean wasn’t a rhyming scheme it was very real and probably the best thing I could have been attached to in my meek beginning on the ward.



Jean assigned us units to work in for the shift and didn’t take kindly to negotiating or whinging when you didn’t agree with the selection process. She lined up the new orderlies for assignments and let lifers come in at will to sign and chuckle at us quivering or trying to reneg on our unit delegation. A girl standing beside me was picking at her long manicured nails making them click when Jean suddenly lit up. “Oh MY! Let me see those nails!” Her vanity trumped her logic and she stuck a hand out to fan long natural nails. Jean yanked her arm and spun her around into a hold. Her arm was bolted at a 90 degree angle and she screamed as the nail clipper snapped off curls of pink to the ground. ClickClickClickClick. She shrieked looking down but too upset to think and get out of the hold. She was too hung up on her nails falling to the ground. Jean let her go and stuck the clippers into her hand. “Finish the rest of them off. Don’t show up to my ward with nails like that. You’ll do more harm than good.”

The girl mewled as the clippers snapped off what was left and I felt my cheeks go flush with stress that I’d mess up and get centered out for some other idiocy. I hated getting sweaty in my uniform before I had actually done any work. Makes for a damp and clammy 12 hours.

HOT WATER BURN BABY!

i am too autistic to pack and move. now i'm just throwing too much out and avoiding doing what is easily a week's worth of laundry. this will all be so worth it when it's all said and done.

in other news, i cannot stop thinking about a little sausage princess dog. one slutty night of her curled up in my lap snoozing and i'm beyond hooked.

oh fucking gods in the proverbial heavens

going out for a smoke. going to set fire to my room to avoid packing and after, think about starting a new life in a boat that goes up and down the Amazon River. i'll send you a postcard.

monster want

i was always a cartoon/comic/magazine junkie. when i was younger, i had a big thing for Mad magazine and when i was waiting around for the next issue, i often picked up Cracked magazine. i never felt like Cracked was a special needs kid that you felt sorry for, i really did like the cartoons and was entertained.
so, i recall a new magazine nestled in near the Cracked one month WAY WAY WAY back when... it looked like art work that i would find in cracked but only creepy.

when i was a kid i didn't really get turned on by horror movies. even when i was that youthful, it just didn't scare me, just a story that entertained me. errrr i hadn't yet found the ones that DID scare me or the types of horror i like now. the problem was that since i was a budding little psychopath, it just didn't' *hit* me or shake me up. it didn't creep into my mind and stay with me in any way other than ah, that was interesting!.

i wound up picking a copy of this magazine up and what the FUCK!?! it creeped me out. it's only newsprint/black and white... and mostly short comic stories so nothing epic. what i do know is that these stories burned in my mind. i read them many times and would often stop to close my eyes and visually see them play out. even when i put them away for a couple of months, they'd manage to get yanked out and sat open on my bedroom floor for extended stays.

a couple of months ago i got a complete bug up my twat about this mag. i could see the covers/the stories, but for the life of me didn't know what the name was. i googled Cracked and Horror to no avail...or maybe i just didn't look hard enough? i pinned down the name of it after i begged friends on the intrawebz to help me out. sure enough, thar she blow:


There's one missing from the image... which is one that i want along with the Jason cover the most. I was scratching my head wondering why i only bought a few of these... but after a little reading saw that only 5 issues came out. Mort Todd who was working at Cracked slipped this mag into the printing press without any approval. After one came out with critical praise he managed to churn out 4 more, but it went bust after he left Cracked.



the one story that is seared into my mind is from the Frankenstein cover that entices you to buy the magazine with the promise of reading about Deadly Slime... actual title of the story: "Cellar Jelly". while i reiterate over and over that little traumatized me in terms of fiction, THIS STORY SCARED THE EVER LOVING SHIT OUT OF ME. i never looked at preserves the same way again. ever. EVER! the graphic panels of horror in it is still with me and the words "clack clack" are tangible in my mind now as i see a viscous-coated skeleton beat a death rattle on a cellar floor.

{shudder}

i really find it delightful to find things that creep me out past or present!

thank the gods there's only a few to pick up... i will save up my pennies to get these and take a ton of pictures of the frames.

anyone else out there remember this mag?!

thanks!

im thankful for: weed, wine, my precarious health, kittens, my unrequited crushes & as always my ability to cheapen life-affirmation statements

magic: the dorkening

2 posts in one night? must be visiting my folks for the weekend.

as seen by my last post, i have a burning hardon for comics. i was never into hobbits and sci fi fiction novels, but do enjoy cartoons, comics and movies that touch on the themes. i guess i gotta have my limits?

so there's a long history with me finding an interest in playing Magic: The Gathering. while i'm numeric dyslexic and the thought of adding or subtracting reverts me into a gap-mouthed toad, still, i thought this might be interesting. i've always liked the art work in the series, moreso in the past 5 years and even more once i was able to look at collections. maybe i could get into this? i like fanciful things that kill each other in savage pageantry! i like collecting things that are painful financial drains! i like games that require me to be sheep-dogged into chill spaces and only have a few people to hang out with!

my old half-roommate Daddy [names changed to protect the bears] came in from a weekend trip raving about playing Magic and spent a solid 20 minutes pitching the concept to me.
"but i hate numbers..."
"no! it's not that bad... and there's evil animal things... WITH SWORDS!!"
"SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!"
my only quid pro quo was a single dyke finger being raised and pointing at his handsome face, "oh i'll learn to play... but you can't out me to any of our friends that i'm going to play dragons and fairy farts with you or else i'll never play this with you. Capice?"
he agreed and we left it at we'll touch base and get this shit on the go eventually.
fast forward a month. Daddy and i were at some social event and we were picking on each other, as usual, and trying to outdo each other for the title of King Shit. He blurted out to a large pack of friends, "oh YEAH, well J wants to play MAGIC!!"
i was Magic outed.
i cant be clear, but i think the debacle unraveled into me screaming like a queeny wag trying to slap him and crying out, "you said you wouldn't tellllllllllll!!"

some hurts never heal and since that outburst, Daddy has faced me cornering him many times swishing wine around in a glass staring at him... and the inevitable, "remember when you blabbed about Magic...?!" all in good fun. kinda. no seriously, it's funny, but more hilarious to pout about it for attention.

still, what's the beef? i think about batman daily more than i do about kitties. that speaks volumes to gauge the dork ratio right there. i am a giant flake that enjoys being immersed into fanciful scenarios but it's super hard for me to find a board game that i will actively sit down and play. i'll watch all night as others play and have fun, just usually can't be focused enough to want to play it all night.

so, let's take stock: i like psychos in tights and capes, i like lapsing into a dream-like state of imagination and i like collecting things and yapping about it with other collectors.

i'm still not officially done with this Magic: The Gathering thesis, but i'll at least take it a couple of rounds.

laugh if you want, but rest assured there are like SO many other things i do/imbibe/think about are much worse than playing cards with dragons on them... so i guess, what's the hold up?

comix!!

a pal graciously picked me up a comic that he liked a while back. it's beat up but the pages are almost fuzzy with that worn texture of newsprint. and there's a ton of ads mashed in between the comic pages that are eyebrow-raising to say the least.
we chatted about how GOOD the story is but the cover is a little less to be desired/kinda hokey. i drew the comparison to porno movie boxes: sassy cover means NOTHING in terms of what's going to get you off. but the reverse could be true... in fact i recall a ton of pornos i would recommend at the smut shack that people walked past and i had to confirm that it was worth the rental.

back to the point: me takey pictures of comic book. it's so fragile that i'm keeping it in a cover so i thought i might as well snap some pics of it to look at without griping about hauling it out of plastic.

cheesy stuff, but i love it. should probably take each image and crop them a bit better, but MEH good enough, yo.

the cover in question... kinda boring but it belies a great story






god i love beast... don't psychoanalyze this too much!!




WAPAAAAOOOW!






rowr






zoom!


old but still love the vibrant blues in this


i want to print this on a tshirt!


oh tony start, what hilarious antics are you up to now




sloots 'n high cut bathingsuits. yus.








THOR BITCH SLAP WAB-BAP!










another one that would look sick on a tshirt




I WILL DIE UNHAPPY NOT KNOWING WHAT THESE SHIRTS LOOKED LIKE


...i think i missed it


meep... they don't cost .50 anymore

"one part for you and one part for me"

here i am, quite the fool. as soon as i talk about you out loud i roll my eyes. bright blue-tinted balls rolling back faster than a shark in a feeding frenzy. i make myself bored listening to the story of the Start and The Reason i feel this way towards you... sick and bored and tired. assinine condemnations that i save for idiot associates and their sad stories. i miss something i didn't have and i miss my sanity.

the time spent thinking is thudding around in my empty conscience and there's that guilt of never lavishing this affection on the ones who wanted it.

there's not that frantic chest clenching angst now, but the reaction is burned into my muscle memory. the crescendo of tightness clamping down on my chest and i smile. i smile and it's a real joy but... but what? what now? move it, keep pushing, try to ignore my lack of sincere irreverance to get over it.

you're still milling around in my empty room of crushes after i've dismissed everyone else. i'd invite you to stay, but what will i feed you? what can i offer that isn't glutenus junk that'd rot a hole in your gut. tacky treats of ill-thought out feelings and nothing of real substance. nothing that'd fill you up the way you deserve. nothing that would keep you coming back so you could avoid the gut rot.

just keep hanging out a bit longer in the side of my vision... you're fodder for a sputtering creative drive. you're kind enough to keep yourself entertained flipping through my scrap book of stories and ignore the snippets of you that slip out to the floor. no mind, i keep them at the back of the book to keep them out of sight... but easy to turn to and envelop myself in your pieces.

you - by das pop

You, you break my heart
You tear me up, in so many parts
One part for you and one for me
That is how it ought to be
You, you know my sins
You know that i will do them again
I do one for you and one for me
That is how it ought to be
You struck me
That is why i'm standin' here
You struck me
You are everything i fear
You struck me
Since you're gone our home has changed
You struck me
I just wanna get out of here
You, you break my heart
You tear me up, in so many parts
One part for you and one for me
That is how it ought to be
You struck me
You struck me
You struck me
You struck me
You, you break my heart
Oh you oh you
Yeah you
You break my heart
Oh you oh you
You break my heart
You tear me up in so many parts
One part for you and one for me
And that is how it ought to be

hrmm...

tonight there was white wine, a lot of cigarettes, a lot of cuteness and THEN i got NIN/Janes Addiction tickets? what fucking vortex of awesome just ripped open and sucked me in?

more cori <3

my two fave pics i took out of the whole set: