Metaphysic Storm

A few weeks ago i was drinking and scanning my facebook friends. Stumbling into the digital depths of an ex girls life i found a picture of her with 6 other girls who “shared a trait that is a large part of their identity.”  I found 5 out of the 7 attractive and drunkenly thought it a good idea to rebel against all the facebook quizzes by making my own, “which girl did i sleep with” quiz. When i woke up the next morning i reread the post and decided that it could be easily misinterpreted but didn’t pass termination judgement. Here is the post:

One of these women has been one of my favorite muses, until she put a pumpkin in the mississippi to appease the Nawlins’ spirit. She also was the only woman i’ve ever been naked in bed with, with an extra women under the sheetz…. oh, an ex girl friend [now ready to pop out a science teacher's child] was jealous about the dark chocolate. Who do you think me lady was?

COMMENTS
Imperadør Hasemörder says: I aint’t gonnah lie, i just spent the night wit da tulane indian bitches…. my life may suck butt at will i can be 18 down in a second… ho ha. i know i can’t be 18 forever…. i look forward to puttin;;;;;;;;;;;wrasp…….. my lite brite together go my dead gran dad…

unokhan says: #2

Imperadør Hasemörder says: You have done a Noble thing, saving my facebook account, but alas #2 is the incorrect answer.

unokhan says: u sed dark chocolate — did u mean caramel?

Imperadør Hasemörder says: You are such a good sport i will give you one more guess. Anything would be dark chocolate to Cat

unokhan says: myyy eyes!!!!

AB says: I’m thinking Three, Four or Seven. Three looks like a ‘pleaser’ – someone who would be willing to try a threesome, on the behalf of someone for whom she had feelings deep enough to overcome her own pride. Four, because she looks as if she may be insecure. Seven, because she looks adventurous, to me. I’m leaning toward Three. You and Cat look like twins.

unokhan says: bev, they don’t look a thing alike except for this blinding whiteness. robert has tucked nares.

AB says: In the photo offered, I’m judging the eye shape, the cheek bone position, the forehead (and hairline) and the ‘bow’ of the lower lip, mostly. To my eye, in this photo, they do indeed look like siblings, and possibly fraternal twins. But it’s jmho …

Imperadør Hasemörder says: Not Three, Four or Seven either. To be completely honest i did not have a threesome. My ex-muse’s friend wanted to and we all ended up in bed but nothing but a little explicit cuddling happened.

unokhan says: okay who dem

Imperadør Hasemörder says: #1

thimscool says: Hi Aunt B! Robert, that pic of you and Cat reminds me of when I was rescued by the Pleiadians.

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#1 emailed me a couple days back and accused me of being racist. That caught me off guard because i had prepared a defense for male chauvinism but hadn’t once gave thought to it being condescending to, oh what do they call themselves? Ah yes, Negros. #1 and i traded emails but it finally became clear to me that she is locked into her veiw that she is the authority on racism and i am guilty. Her last email declared that i am a divisive idiot that holds stupid conversations and she didn’t want me as a friend anymore. Since i get the feeling that i’m not a non-friend but an enemy now i thought i’d play the part and post the email conversation. Continue Reading »

Need i say more?
Click here for the 30 second full story.

I’m doing a painting for a woman who’s getting married in the Audubon zoo. I told her that it was a strange place to get married but not as strange as having a cavity filled in a tent by the monkeys, while having to breathe out of one’s nose so i wouldn’t steam up his vision. She looked puzzled and i reminded her that after hurricane Katrina doctors volunteered their service at the zoo. I was one of countless others, although i was a rather pale version, making a grab for some free medical service.

I went to the zoo this morning to get the photo’s i needed to do the paintings. Since i paid the $13 bucks to get in i thought i would spend a few hours walking around. We have a pretty nice zoo here in heart of uptown. It seems as though most of the animals have enough room that it doesn’t feel too much like the prison zoos are. Unfortunately, i chose to go to the zoo on some sort of designated field trip day for half the middle schools in the state. It felt like i was observing adolescent behavior more than the quadrupeds.

My favorite sections of the zoo are the reptile house, which are the coolest looking, and the primate section, which are the most enjoyable to watch. The two times i’ve been to the zoo, to see the animals, it’s been in fairly decent shape: clean and well maintained. When i arrived at the orangutan pit i was slightly shocked to see trash with the animals. There was a cardboard soda box, some food wrappers and one of the orangutans was sleeping on their “side walk” like a bum, using what looked like a newspaper as a blanket.

The ape that wasn’t napping on the job came over to the edge of the moat, put his hand out and gave everyone the down on his luck look. Everyone but i laughed. I was shocked at the behavior which revealed the source of the trash. The adults that were standing beside me said, “It’s just shameful”. I almost started a conversation about how i agreed, when i was absolutely flabbergasted at what they said next, “We should throw him some change.” Sometimes i think i’m on the wrong side of the fence at the zoo.

Twisted Doodle

I’ve had Doodles Mendoza, the mutt sent from the gods, for almost half a year now. When i got her she was completely undisciplined. She’s my first dog and I think i’ve done a pretty good job training her. She can sit, stand, lay-down, go back, walk by side, walk ahead, slow down, run, heal, jump, speak, shake, roll over and play dead. Her main problem is aggression towards other dogs when on the leash and picking on little dogs at the dog park. I’ve tried three different training leashes and several techniques to try and curb the behavior with little success. Unfortunately the dog in her sometimes brings out the monkey in me. It’s as if i leave my body and watch the chain of chemical events take place: she becomes violent making the other dog violent causing a real stink and steam to come out of my ears. I’ve walked away the events literally trying to reprogram my response before i go ape shit on the Dog. I’ve achieved a 98% success rate with myself, and have been putting more energy into positive reinforcement and trying to guilt Doodles into behaving. It wouldn’t be that big of a deal except i plan on painting with her on the road and can’t loose a $300 painting by having my oils fly in the lap of some yuppie yappie dog owner’s $200 blouse while Doodles digests Tinkerbell and the lawsuit ensues.

One of the strangest effects of having a “difficult” dog is that in my efforts to train her i’ve heard my dad’s voice coming out of my mouth. I’m sure most parents have experienced what i’m talking about because we learn through example which is reinforced through repetition. I had a particularly disturbing father and many repressed memories have surfaced through the interaction with my dog. When i’ve said, “Doodles i swear to god i’m going to kill you”, memories of my dad putting a gun to my head materialize. I have him holding my head underwater until i tapped out bubbling into my consciousness. To this i add a sister who’s developed a twisted sense of appropriateness. I was on the phone with her telling her of the technique i’ve come up with to gain absolute trust from Doodles. I said, “i hold her upside-down in my arms and lower her to the ground. Her natural instinct is to flip to save her back but i sooth her with my voice, look her in the eye and gently place her on the ground. After doing that a few times i remembered Dad holding me over a banister on a balcony and then coaxing me to jump from the fire hall’s mezzanine into his arms.” She replied, “Yeah, but you’re doing it with a dog.” As if the method with terrible consequences is alright for humans but with no real threat not ok for dogs.

I received Doodles at a very strange point in my life. It’s difficult to tell now but it seems as though extra responsibility is something that i could really do without in my current financial/rental/job/credit circumstance. I’ve thought about trying to find a home for her with an owner that had at least an ounce of stability but i really do love my dog and have invested an enormous amount of time making her a better citizen. When i took her on her first walk she pulled me to the ground and almost exploded in the presence of other dogs but now she doesn’t automatically go ballistic; it takes a few sniffs and posturing before she goes bizerk. Perhaps that little success is what matters and will grow into something. I continue training myself to have patience. It seems very strange to plan one’s actions ahead of time but i guess that’s what kung fu is all about and it’s easy when Doodles’ behavior is so predictable.

What i have written would have been fine as is, maybe it would light a SPCA bulb a little, but i promised too much information: one drunken night i was at the Mayfair and introduced Doodles to a scientist i met inside. He’s a Jewish atheist who found my supernatural speak incredibly amusing. I was more than happy to entertain and scare him by making him think i’m a Nazi. I took him outside to a dark corner where i had Doodles tied up. I said that technology isn’t what can save our species from driving itself extinct, that the answer had to be political/social. I then reached down to Doodles and undid her leash. She ran away, down the sidewalk to almost certain death on St. Charles street. I said that what i did was introduce Capitalism/Anarchy. I called for Doodles and she came back to me and i put the leash back on her. He seemed shocked at the demonstration and i wondered where my behavior was coming from. I’m not nearly as predicable as a Doodle.

The next day i took her to the dog park. On the way there we spotted a stray dog that looked just like Doodles. It was limping and looked as though it got hit by a car. There was no helping it, especially while i had Doodles with me. As the guilt of feeling as though i just got a sign of what could have been, we entered the gated park. I took the leash off of my girl and threw the ball for her. She took off after it like a bat out of hell. No other dogs were there but soon someone arrived. They had a little puppy and i knew there would be a problem. Doodles took off strait for them and the puppy went into a submissive posture and started making a crazy noise. This was very bad for my Alfagirl. She bit the puppy but did not puncture the skin. I finally made it over to pull her off while the puppy’s owner was completely freaking out. I put the leash on Doodles. They were about 40 yards away when Doodles took off for them braking my leash. I warned them and pulled Doodles away from the irritable attraction of little dog energy.

That night i had a dream that i was in a restaurant where i got into a fight. I escaped into the bathroom where i found Doodles skinned and her paws chopped off. I woke up and road my bike to the pet store to get a stronger leash and decided to try a new retractable one so I could give Doodles a feeling of freedom on the Neutral grounds. A week later Doodles got into a fight outside the Buddha Belly Bar and i got knocked upside the back of the head.

Repugnant sexual impulse

Recently i was watching a 13 hour World War II documentary when i saw a pile of naked jews being bulldozed into a giant lime pit. I got a glimpse of titties on an emaciated woman and for a millisecond was sexually aroused. That’s about as twisted as it gets and is even too much information for my consciousness.

I just had a bourgeois couple walk into the gallery and disturb me with their twisted perspective. Within a few sentences i could tell that they most likely wouldn’t even consider buying a painting. They were curious to see what New Orleans was like after Katrina and with air fair at ridiculously low prices, they probably hopped on a plane for a spontaneous weekend trip. I am truly repulsed by disaster tourists that stroll from the French quarter up through the garden district and have the audacity to ask locals where the wreckage is. It’s as if they’re happy to spend the 20 minutes reserving a room at the 5 star hotel but reluctant to spend half that time on google to get a basic understanding of the man made natural disaster.

They seemed to be very happy escaping the African May temperatures and enjoying the non 501(c) cultural enrichment opportunity. Like fools gold clockwork they started up a conversation that took me away from my painting. I don’t want to sound like a man who always has a meter running but this phenomenon of havemores steeling my time is starting to bother me. I do like talking to people, but a conversation is one thing being a tip skipped concierge (kɔ̃sjɛʁʒ) is another. The first statement reveals the retardation and is as predictable as rate of a falling drop of donkey piss in a vacuum: “It doesn’t look like there was any damage here”; the first question they ask, “There’s so many businesses open, how are they doing” is so common i think i’ll create a little pamphlet to hand out and set the rest of the mood.

The pamphlet would start out: “I only operate one business here, i can not speak for the other thousand that are found on Magazine Street. The owner and i have a very unique arrangement that has allowed us to remain alive during the trauma of Katrina and the nightmare that is the loan shark housing bubble breakdown.” My guess is that the reason much of New Orleans is escaping the economic trauma is because locals typically love the city and show their pride buy making an effort to buy locally whenever possible. The businesses that i do pay an elevated attention to are other galleries and studios and we are not doing well as a subgroup. We’re dropping like flies in a Nazi gas chamber. A roomer has it that a new gallery three blocks from us that opened not more than a year ago just closed and did so before selling a single piece of art work.

I explained these things to my distracting guests when i felt like shifting the conversation to something that i would be engaged in, rather than simple reporting. I mentioned that it was the rich that are exasperating the economic crisis by not spending money…. and they looked at me, shocked. How could a shop keaper be so blunt when speaking to guests obviously 2 classes higher. I told them that i haven’t slowed my spending at all, although i don’t have nor ever had any savings. They said that i’m ok because i have nothing to lose. If that were really an answer they should be glad to have their castle crumble because then they wouldn’t have anything to worry about. I guess if they didn’t have what’s left of their nest egg, they couldn’t go on vacation at will and that would cause intolerable pain. I added that i just bought a computer, they shot back with, “WE (rich people) already have all those things, so we’re not going to be spending money on them”… I stood beside them in the AC that we were enjoying calmly letting my blood boil. They were surrounded by my artwork, that they had just enjoyed viewing and i was positive they didn’t have any of those “things”.

My economic stimulating computer money isn’t supporting intelcorp or china with my 3.2ghzHTP4 small form factor Dell w/DVD-RW and 1gig dual channal ram. I stimulated AAR, a company focused on Environmentally Safe Computer Disposal. I spent $140 on their trash.