I'm going to be having a professional shoot done in a few weeks by my buddy Tom Couture (go to my top 20 thing on Myspace if you don't already know who he is. His work is ridiculous). My problem is that I can't think of anything regarding locations or actions.

I asked Bunny, and this is what she responded with --

Okay.

How 'bout:

-Kungfu Mike doing Kungfu with homeless dudes.
-Kungfu Mike in a silk robe on a big mattress surrounded by HOT GIRLS HE NEVER INTRODUCES ME TO.
-Kungfu Mike in a bathtub full of Mac N' Cheese
-Kungfu Mike acts serious in a gay bar (you prolly won't want to do that one)
-Kungfu Mike throwing a tank full of lobsters into fresh water, or rather, Kungfu Mike in a river surrounded by dead floating lobsters (I rather like this one)
-Kungfu Mike on a bike with a 40 in one hand and a molotov cocktail in the other
-Kungfu Mike pissing on the old man in the mountain. Kungfu Mike pissing on an old man.

Any of these float your boat?

What do you guys think? Should I go with some of these ideas? Have any other ones? Let me know. Maybe I'll use it. Maybe I'll call you a retard and take a dump on your laptop. I'm not sure; the world is full of maybes.

Oh, and I'm still working on part 3 of Ginsanity. Be patient, that shit is hard to write.

~ My best friend Timmy (from a ton of my stories) just made me a fancy banner for his graphic design portfolio. I think he nailed it. Nothing says KungFu Mike like skulls and wild west fonts. The only way it could be more representative of me as a person would be to make the letters out of empty Newcastle bottles and used condoms. Regardless, I put it up on my Myspace page...and you can too!

~Apparently you guys are really digging Ginsanity and that rules. I'm steadily working on it, but it's a slow write so be patient with me. Delving into psychosis isn't exactly like doing the dishes.

~In other best friend news, Teddy (also from a ton of my stories, also an artist) is working with our mutual friend Pete to illustrate a bunch of my stories. They're starting with And the Names of the Colossi were Lucifer and Bone Saw and are going to work their way through to my most current multi-part entry, Ginsanity. It's going to be awesome. I'll keep you posted as to when the illustrations are added as they it comes.

~Remember when I was half-jokingly requesting one of you people to buy me a Wii and Mario Kart and mail it to my house? Well somebody actually did and that shit is way too much fun. I'll let you all know when I hook this bitch up to the Internet so I can fuck-start all of your Mii heads with my racing prowess.

Driving back to New Hampshire from Dad's "death fiesta" later that night, I couldn't stop thinking about what I said to the meth addict that grabbed my mother. Finger painting with bodily fluids? What the fuck, Mike? What if that dude called your bluff? I checked the rear view mirror before switching lanes to take my exit for the Portsmouth Traffic Circle. After determining that the highway was empty behind me, I focused on my 23 year old image in the mirror, soaked in dim blue light from the muted car stereo. The low hum of my truck's tires calmly vibrated through me and lulled my sister to sleep in the passenger seat with her jacket draped over her knees. I thought about the overwhelmingly unstable level of emotion that blitzed my faculties a few hours prior. I remembered my heart rocketing out of my chest, everything else besides him and I kind of grayed out of existence and right at that moment when I was describing the awful things I was going to do to him, I was visualizing it...and enjoying it on an almost sexual level. The thought of him having to endure immense amount of pain because of me was exhilarating. Were you bluffing? Were you even fucking bluffing, Mike? What is wrong with you?

Continue reading "Ginsanity; Part 2"

I went out to a sports bar on Friday night. As I was walking towards the bathroom, someone intentionally reached out and grabbed my cock and balls. It wasn't just an accidental hand tap; this was a legitimate cup and lift of my genitalia. It took me a couple of steps to realize what happened. At first, my mind automatically filled in the blanks and reasoned that it was just some girl I knew being friendly. When the gravity of the situation finally sunk in, I turned around to find the culprit. An older, bearded gentleman was standing there, staring at me with a half smile. He kind of looked like this:

"Um, sorry...guy. I didn't do that on purpose. My hand just flung out. I wasn't looking."

"I can't believe you just did that. I - I don't even know what to say. You just grabbed my dick."

"Well, I...uh..."

"I don't care if you're gay or whatever, but do you normally just molest dudes dicks and hope one out of ten enjoys it? Where is your gay-dar? This is a sports bar, not the fucking Man Hole. Why did you just do that?"

"Hey. I'm not gay, pal."

"Aren't bears supposed to stick to their own kind?"

"What?"

"You didn't just tap me or graze me accidentally; you deliberately cupped my cock and my balls with your hand. You cupped and lifted. Was I really just sexually assaulted by Victor French? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Look pal. I --"

"What did you expect to happen? Did you expect me to turn around and giggle? Should I enjoy some ZZ Top looking mother fucker groping my junk? What the fuck is wrong with you?! I should fucking knock you out."

"Hey. No need to cause a scene."

"CAUSE A SCENE?!? YOU GRABBED MY DICK -- ON PURPOSE!!! EVERYBODY!!! EVERYBODY LOOK OVER HERE!!! KING SOLOMON OVER HERE JUST MAN HANDLED MY FUCKING PENIS!!! HE JUST STUCK HIS HAND OUT AND MOLESTED ME!!! HE DOESN'T WANT TO CAUSE A SCENE, THOUGH!!! LET'S ALL JUST LOOK THE OTHER WAY WHILE SEX OFFENDER SANTA GRABS DUDE CROTCH ALL NIGHT!!!" NO BIG DEAL!!!"

"...I can't believe you just did that. There's no way I can stay here now."

"That was the plan. See ya later, you fucking rapist. Keep in touch..."

This is part one of a multi-part entry that details a brief period of my life when I went violently and dangerously insane. I've always been a little off -- albeit functionally and comically off -- but this is not that kind of off. It's a scary off On my personal timeline, It begins immediately after Requiem for a Pepperoni Pizza, so you might want to read that for reference before you start on this.

I thought for a while about how I wanted to start this off, and I think it'll be most appropriate for me to do that by giving you a glimpse of a screenplay I've been working on for a while. Actually, it's the first screenplay I ever started working on, so excuse the glaring format errors. I thought I captured the situation pretty well in this clipping, and besides...it's a story about how I went off the deep end -- A little medium hopping probably compliments the subject matter. The rest of the entry will be in my typical short story format.

*** INT. MIKE'S APARTMENT

Mike is in his apartment, sitting on his couch in his dark living room with the shades drawn. Portishead blares on the entertainment system's speakers as he takes long drags from a cigarette and pulls from a plastic bottle of cheap whiskey, staring at the ceiling. The clock on the cable box reads 9:38 am. His cell phone rings and vibrates on the table. He sees it, but doesn't pick up.

Continue reading "Ginsanity; Part 1"

*New message. Recorded on Tuesday, April 29th at 3:37 p.m.:*

"Mike, it's Suzie. I just wanted to let you know that, well...my period stopped yesterday - - click"

My phone hit the bed before I even hit "end". The robotic voice muffled by my comforter rattled off options to save or delete my new message as immediate, acute panic set in; the kind of panic that would send you climbing up the walls of an impossible crevice you've just fallen into, fully well knowing that you're going to tear every one of your fingernails out in the process. The fear caused my heart to beat erratically. My breathing became irregular and the newly familiar signs of an impending anxiety attack ravaged my consciousness, tunnel vision and the whole shebang.

I am not ready for this. I am not ready for this at all.

Continue reading "Baked Potato"

From -d-, Huntington Beach, California :

"Unfortunately, UTZ chips are nowhere to be found out here on the west coast.

So I took your advice and ordered a couple bags of Crab Chips from UTZ online.

Fucking A Right those are the best chips ever. Those first 2 bags lasted a day & a half.

I just ordered a 60-snack-pack of them so they will last until maybe June. The second you swallow one of those little fuckers its like your hand just begins searching for another.

I will be forever indebted to you and your infinite chip wisdom."