The queen is hot, so get it on...
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Brothers, and Sisters,
Round 2 -- bring the ice.
I've been mouse slinging colors, and punching "hard" on the "lettered teeth," all for the day gone away.
Samantha got out of the can this past friday last, and did indeed have to make "time" with another of the "law breakers" all Johnny bottled up in said big house.
When viewing porn, Samantha does tend to "back wind" the G on G action, so I'm not thinking this is a big heart ache for the Jack jail bird, rather, I sense a "good reason to party" at play (in conjunction with her roving fingers it would seem), and do what you want to do.
It's a good story, I guess, though not that sure how I really feel about it (I've heard it about twenty times in the last two days -- "I was so scared, it was dark, and she was in my ear saying, 'don't be afraid, just be open, be open, be open,' that's all she would say..." Not sure that is much in the way of demanding, sounds like a bit of a Jack bird "so then I had to," moment).
Still trying to get her to draw me a map of exactly what "it started, and evolved from a lot of kissing, deep kissing," actually means.
She's doing alright though. I'm going to meet said "be open" next week some time.
Durant "file in the cake" Hapke
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Let's not forget even Joyce was mocked by his contemporaries.
- Stinkie - 'Sheesh, deodorant isn't that expensive - Smellystein
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Brothers, and Sisters,
So, it's a strange 3D universe this morning, a strange bed rest ender.
I've got a flying machine bug in my brain, but little time to work on the new -- a bad state, but what?
If I manage some time, perhaps a bit more color, or a blast onto preexisting action.
About life this day... The questions are huge, and the answers way past tiny.
I can't imagine feeling like more of an animal -- a flesh cog in the stupendously complex machine of "space time," that in the end is obscenely simple.
"Boo!" I say to the black crap of the stupid sky.
"Boo, and Boo!" To dirt.
"Eat your Jack selves while your fellow lives of shit dines beside you..."
I should ware a clown suit today -- if I had one, I would. Perhaps I can make up a quick one, or just ware my some plastic bags, and a hat.
I was messing with the 78 last night, and all the signals were crossed.
On Samantha, she will not let up on the entire "I need to see my prison baby," action.
Her time in the can seems to have spun her head in ways I can't get, or at least its given her permission to "act out" in some unexpected and, I'm sorry, in my mind, extra needy manners.
It was the local jail -- not the state pen -- and these women are board, and that sounds a bit like high school, so I have been telling her to just "cool it," for a while, and let the entire episode dissipate a bit.
Perhaps I should make her a little SketchUp Jail cell... That might give her a laugh, or me a punch in the jaw -- either sounds good about now.
Durant "I should play the harmonica" Hapke
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Brothers, and Sisters,
Fire is the word of the day -- strike the Jack bird match and let the "bring it" party begin.
Been messing with all the dials and keys, the results less of a flare up then I'd hoped, but given all that's aflame around me, I'll have to just let it stand.
I'm hitting the road for sure, not for long I hope. Perhaps a day or so, looking for some fresh thoughts along the way, and what? I run short of focus I fear.
What about my brethren here on the boards? Life can get so flat, no?
I've been chasing so hard and so long, but the Jack bird answers always stay just out ahead -- just out of view -- mocking and squealing all the while.
Inspiration... Inspiration and the lettered teeth before me are most Jack Jack bird out of registration.
And my mouse? It searches for the muse. The muse that's mine and most certainly out there in the fog -- out side of my reach.
And what of change?
What of the back drop of human affairs?
I find little here in the now.
My mouse is an ineffective "limp tool" unable of finding a soft hold on the next.
But I am no quitter, I will pack my action, and drive.
Durant "GPS" Hapke
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Durante, you are truly, the Tom Waits of SketchUp, or of this forum at least!!
In honor of your road trip, the Lyrics from Waits' "I'll Be Gone":
Tonight I'll shave the mountain
I'll cut the hearts from pharoahs
I pull the road off of the rise
tear the memories from my eyes
and in the morning I'll be gone
I drink 1000 shipwrecks
tonight I'll steal your paychecks
I paint the sheets across my bed
the birds will all fly from my head
and in the morning I'll be gone
take every dream that's breathing
find every boot that's leaving
shoot all the lights in the cafe
and in the morning I'll be gone
I bet 1000 dollars
I have a french companion
I tie myself below the deck
I pull the rope around my neck
and in the morning I'll be gone
it takes a life to win her
there is a drum of bourbon
800 pounds of nitro
his boots are thunder as he plays
there is a stone inside it
tonight his bones will ride it
I'll need a tent to hide it
and in the morning I'll be gone -
Brothers, and Sisters,
Bring the Clarke action.
Writer Arthur C. Clarke Dies at 90
2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY so Jack bird rocks my funky Jack action off.
Much a wild ride I've taken on this dudes action.
Here's a very killer link, more on the film then the writer, but I'm all about the thoughts pondered.
Jack bird hate the MATRIX, but so it goes:
http://metaphilm.com/philm.php?id=449_0_2_0
Back from the dry highways just to find death again.
The monolith proportions?
1 X 1 = 1
2 X 2 = 4
3 X 3 = 91... 4... 9...
Space/God = 00
Pour out a good bit of liquor for this bird.
Durant "open the pod bay doors" Hapke
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Mad Modelhead,
Your the "King of Bring It," scribbled on the back of my little book of feeling "full on."
Pour a cold one, and light a fresh pack.
Your sandwich?...
Yeah, toasted would be all for you, brother.
B&S,
No new images this Jack bird day, but a few in the pipe, and then a few more.
Drinks out with Sam's jail chick...
So, right, this past weekend, after a successful jump over the three day holy bread rising, I did in fact venture out to meet Samantha and her prison play mate, "Be Open."
Her true name is a bit of an odd mystery to me, as it's something along the lines of "Jaxy," or "Jinkzy," or "Janksy," and that just kind of morphed throughout the night anyway, and between this and that, and rounds of drinks we pulled in over at the "Cat and the Fiddle," it just became a big bowl of "whatever" stew.
Full on call her whatever you choose -- I did -- but jump back from, "Be Open," as that just seemed to mystify the girl, and as I had to go with the initials "B.O." a time or two -- that also made her "uncomfortable" as she appeared to want to correct me... but only a bit... her attitude was so fast forward, and "on to the next," nothing I said really drew much of her attention anyway, she was just to riveted on Samantha to pay me much of a mind.
Not sure what I expected this curve to look like... Perhaps a bit like a janitor, or welder...
I'm not saying lesbians are all butch like that, but this is a prison deal (county jail... very nice county jail), a prison fantasy of some sort, to Samantha anyway... Her first G on G action, all blurry with orange jumpers, cough syrup, and bad lighting.
So, Jack bird Samantha is a bit of a bean... Long legs, and slender arms.
She has some girl curves, just some, but her eyes and mouth are what stops the taxies -- that kisser of hers is so on, it's just all, "drive in here," and double barrel shotgun.
That said, her head is a bit of a bean as well.
You might not catch it right away, but if you check her out from the back side, you can see the top of her dome is a bit of a point... I've ridden round on it enough to tell you it's more odd charming and endearing, then freak show...
It's all Samantha, part of her as she is -- skinned knees, and lets play, and "ain't my head just a sexy bit strange."
Whatever the case, "Jaklize," or whatever, I'm thinking was just likely going to be a good bit of a stud, but this proved to be not the case at all, as she was just a girl that looked like a young worker you would find at the grocery, stocking shelves in one of those green produce aprons, maybe putting out some zucchini, or eggplants.
That said, I say jump back as everything else about her, her personality, or way the spark meat in her noggin ran was just, "I can't stop to think," so "berries in with the green beans?"
"Oh? Yeah, much more then likely."
Perhaps some kind of substance usage was at work here, but either way, she ran hot the entire night long.
I've got to run out for some cold, and hots, but will get the Jack bird back, and show off my jail model at the sooner then later.
Durant "Oh, that's mine" Hapke
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Brothers, and Sisters,
I've a tale, but no time.
It's all about a Nintendo controller, and a bit of spilled beer.
But in the short, a roadside bit of left over.
Durant "I want it a bit to the left" Hapke
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Brothers, and Sisters,
Yeah then, back to the night of B and G, featuring the none stop "Jinkzy Be Open."
So, the evening at the "Cat and the Fiddle" runs all fast forward to the end of the night -- "You can say up all night, but you can't stay here."
Click Bang! -- We've all been there.
Us, the trio, had tipped quite a number, so getting out the door was bump and tussle, and "let's go here," "let's go there," but the plans spun round, and orbiting to my place one the coin toss.
Nice.
We snagged a six from one arm Bruce at the corner store -- he likes to get all friendly at that hour, snapping his sad brand of humor, and spinning tales to dense to make head nor tale of...
You just have to agree with the dude, he's old and all that, and the mono-arm-deal can make you feel you should take a moment more then is wise to ponder his malarkey...
"The poles are shifting you know," Bruce explains, "North is going South, and South is going to damn disappear, then you know?"
He blinks at Sam and Jink... "Yah, know?"
"We don't know about the poles, Bruce, can I get a pack of Camels?"
"Birds can't find home anymore, no migration, and then we get bugs."
I don't fall for it, I pay the arm and we're set to go, but no, Jinkxy box is all into his jabber now.
She pipes in with a smart, "I was a pole dancer, only for a year, in Texas, and the Million dollar saloon..."
Nice.
"Let's go girls, later Bruce."
One arm wave, "No birds, bugs will thrive..."
Skip to the crash crib -- we set to chatting, beer is consumed and the yawning begins.
I tell Samantha she can crash in my room, and I'll hit the couch. I figure Jinkle Bink and she can manage, from there, so go out on the back step to pond a last nail, and kill a soldier.
The night is clear, I'm watching the tail lights of a jet, thinking nothing, when a big mosquito lands on my ear, and sets into a guitar solo -- "damn" -- slap -- and just as that noise is silenced, my stereo sets to blasting from inside -- loud -- Kid Rock: Sugar (from Rock and Roll Jesus, a Jack bird good disc I might add -- give it a bit of a listen).
Jacking I'm not such great friends with Tad and Janet my wall sharing neighbors, but we do try and leave one another alone. This loud was to loud, so I shot in to damp down the damage as quick as I could.
I'm all half way through the kitchen, when I hit my shin on the corner of a Jacking chair -- and sure, I've done it a million times before, and no, I never learn to push the hog in. So, Ouch, and ouch again, and why not just have a great big ouch on top.
So I hop into the front room, and yeah, the pair are working the dance floor without a pole -- clearly that's what they are wishing they had, but no dice in my dive, and no square footage (a term I've picked up using SU), but whatever the action, they are trying to do a real bump and grind bit of a show.
I dial back the I-pod, receive the expected drunken "boo's," but quickly take a seat, and shout out a, "bring it, girls, plow me a tractor show."
Here now, these girls have been tipping beer a good long bit of the day, and are rumpled from mashing into booths, balancing on stools, and tumbling about in the back of cabs. Their makeup -- what's left of it -- is more clown face then princes, and the entire deal is just a bit to much stumbling, and tripping to really be to much of a going Jenny, if you compute... But fun, and a good bit of dirty girl? Yeah, it was fun cool.
The spiral continued... The controller is yet to be scooped into the story.
Durant "time to head out -- yeah, it's morning again" Hapke
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I could read these stories over and over again! They are simply wonderful! I want to know if these works of art are available to purchase anywhere? Thanks!
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Brothers, and Sisters,
I owe a big more about the bump and grind, but as I've been resting up out back, and feeling a bit of "spring," bud wrestling, just had a beers worth of messing with said hobby.
I'm not to down with hobbies.
Hobbies, are not much my scene.
I'd rather not refer to my action as a hobby, but rather supernatural.
Supernatural in a way we all can at least "get human" about, find some "bring it" and love for everyone.
I want good for all, I want love, digital or otherwise to be for each and every you.
Get that shaker out and blend one.
Durant "deep above the ocean" Hapke
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Blasting Brother Bubbalove,
In haste, didn't take a few pulls of the "teeth with letters" to pass along gratitude for you "pour me one" words.
About to work some action with my action, I'm thinking.
Durant "send a print into space" Hapke
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Brothers, and sisters,
Memories are indeed fading, but I will return to "Memoirs of the None Existent Dance Poll" one day, not now but soon...
My brain pan is boiling -- questions arise at every turn with the seventy eight.
The Tarot is a freak marvel... I'm into using ideas from the mad 78 to kick into Sketch-Up, as in yeah.
Jack bird hook up with that action, it's a curve magnet, but more...
Bring it.
But then again, it's hard to learn, or pick up on. A bit like porn (my brand -- yeah -- Stunt Porn), you don't always know what's going work for you, or why, but check it out any way with hopes of deeper insight.
But, regarding my walk on the "pathless path," I'm eating yards of tangled string, each strand tied to another wonder (though challenging, said strings are a rock star super food, spun from rich fibers of both questions, and mad insight -- and yes, beer goes well with this heady dish).
Sure, I'm Jack bird reading, and scribbling (meta maps, baby, hooking above mentioned strings into knots, and weaves), but always looking for a better compass, or a fellow traveler to point the way.
Night before night last, I had to drop by the corner for Camels, was chatting with Bruce (did I mention he can make change with that single like there's no tomorrow? Yeah he can, and shuffle a deck of cards like a windmill in a thunderstorm -- spooky), so, I'm chatting with him about the proper way to do Jack bird who knows what, and without warning, he donkeys down under the counter, and comes up with half a book -- I mean a book torn in half.
"Some "filly" left this next to the Ruffles. This "devil stuff" gives me the warm Willies."
He hands me the half book -- The Pictorial Key to the Tarot. On the front of it is scrbbled a name in pen, Lilly Cane (don't know that number), but she has nice printing.
"Your into this mumbo jumbo, ain't ya, DH?"
He flips it at me like it's on fire.
"Keep it. If that girly girl comes around, I'll send her around."
Sometimes old Bruce sounds a good bit like Jack bird Yoda -- "Take you to him, I will, or make moundings of barn thunder" -- Right on you little disappointing green sward swinger, sad wielder of the no longer cool force...
So hit the web, and get into Crowley.
Durant "pipe in when you see one" Hapke
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What a tremonduous soap, and very well illustrated!
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Brothers, and Sisters,
Onto and entire new jag...
So be it...
So bring it...
I'm thinking tire...
I'm thinking "glory hole."
Yeah, that crazy aperture cut between bathroom stalls, not for looking, rather poking.
"What? DtheFH, why? What? You being provocative for the Jack of it? Sorry, that song has gotten old..."
Work with me here, this is a Jack bird concept I feel has merit.
Machines of lust = MOL.
What about this? Each of us journeys the outer boundaries of our imaginations to pound in stakes and set up fences -- actively containing our ability to imagine.
We are our own creative jailers -- but we blame the "world" when things get stale.
Our inner world touches the outer world in a mad number of ways.
Robot machine sex between bathroom stalls might prove to turn on our senses of wonder -- force new concepts into being, much as the Tarot has been doing for me.
Public bathrooms in reality are largely nasty, an I can't say I go for that, but in a fantasy, dirty don't count, and the heat of machine exhaust might get all the pistons pumping hard and fast.
Think about the coils of wire, the winding of the gears, rubber tires looking for traction.
These ideas have been around a good long while, check out the Fauves, and Jack bird catch my drift.
Oh, and about the Tarot, take a gander here:
http://www.i-am-bored.com/bored_link.cfm?link_id=28948
Durant "see to it" Hapke
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Brothers, and Sisters,
My demise is not yet at hand -- I am still bringing.
Fell off the planet a good bit I'm afraid -- damaged the computer in a bad way (fluids and electronics make a unsavory cocktail), and then crashed my wheels -- green ford dirt mobile -- very old -- very good friend -- damaged beyond repair -- sad good bye all around.
What is it with that action? Life is just sad when you get out near the ruffs... Out where the weeds and thistles grow.
What's to Jack bird like about such?...
Nothing.
Now I'm making a interplanetary object of desire in sad celebration of my missing wheels... Jack bird bad action.
On the plus side of the line -- Jack bird ++ good zone -- I ran into an awesome bit of AF you might like to check out -- STUNT GIRLS, and STUNT GIRLS 2, by some radical film making wild dude. Very interesting camera work, and trippy like a dream.
Wash that action down with a cold one.
Back to the darkness...
Also been struck with sadness about the passing of Stan Winston -- only 62 -- that is so Jack bird I hate it.
I've seen the Terminator modeled here a time or two, and that's the dude that helped bring said shinny skull to the big screen.
Wrong.
Get the vibe up about kicking it, my SU friends -- time is a freak horny giant, and he will Jack your action with out hesitation.
Go bold.
Durant "I have a gland that produces fire" Hapke
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Sorry to hear of your misfortunes, hope you get your ducks..um..jack birds in a row soon.
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Brothers, and Sisters,
Right on Solo brother... Jack bird drink one on me...
Forgot to bring the fact that said STUNT GIRLS films are adult...
Look for title in XXX section of your grand video emporium.
Durant "flip the wire" Hapke
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I just spent the last 15 min reading every line by our man... and this dude is the real deal... I did a research paper once on Ellul Vs. Shepard Fairey... and im sure neither is spelled right... your right there brother... Amazing language... amazing art... a truely relitively undiscovered art
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I kind of missed this thread when it was started...
...and I will need to read this story a few times more.But Mr. Hapke, I digg your brain !
...@Stinkie: No need to be coherent at first glance. Even a David Lynch movie is a coherent whole. 'Lost Highway' for instance: at first I couldn't grasp the thing, and definitely not the loose sentences, but after seeing it over 10 times (really
), every little detail makes sense to me. But I do admit: what I think is the story behind that movie, will not be the same story in the mind of someone else.
It's a puzzle with multiple solutions.
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