Wednesday, May 26, 2010

W.T.F IS GOING ON, DAMMIT!?!?!?!?!?!!?


First the greatest Tumblr blog ever ULTRAVIOLENCIA throws in the towel because some FUCKTARD threatens to call the F.B.I. because the art and pictures she's posting are "pedophilia" in nature and then he makes vague suggestions about her being raped in jail FOR POSTING ART!

Frank Frazetta, Ronnie James Dio, and Paul Gray all die in the span of a month.

Isis decide to break up.

And now i read Geek Orthodox is throwing in the towel. When i first started writing this blog he was a Major influence on me. I even wrote to him and he offered up advice and linked me via his blog. To say this dude is cool is to say Wookies are strong or water is wet. Reis will keep the blog up for a month or two and then it will be as gone as George Lucas's dignity. Go read it! Right now. Front to back. I did. And i might do it again.

R.I.P. Paul Gray

Paul Gray the bass player for Slipknot passed away on May 24th 2010. He was 38. I was lucky enough to see the band perform a few times and let me tell you. It's the only time at a concert where i thought the building was going to crumble on top of us from the sheer force and energy in the building. I literally watched the water in my bottle ripple and bounce like a scene from Jurassic Park. Dude you made a lot of people happy with your music and that in turn helped people cope with shit or gave them a power they were without. Your influence effected worlds.
R.I.P brother, the world is a less cool place today.
Hers's the Slipknot and family press conference.

This is one of my favorite videos because it takes away the whole "scary mask" aspect and just shows nine fucking talented dudes making music.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

More Painted Minis

I love the board game The Adventurers. Gaming snobs have decried the simplicity of the game but i say poo to that. It's an easy to learn "push your luck" game that's perfect to get the family and kids to play. (Board gamers are always looking for the perfect "gateway" game. I.E. a game to get non-gamers to play. This is one of them.) To keep costs down the publisher released the game with unpainted minis. Now I'm not a "paint every mini" kinda guy. In fact some games i like the minis not being painted (Heroquest, Dragonstrike). But this game is so much theme and the minis are to bland and to similar looking on the board.
 Luckily i have "some" skills thanks to all the Warhammer painting I've done but scale wise these minis are way smaller than 40K stuff so i knew it would be somewhat of a challenge. I'm pretty happy with the results and am now going to paint the walls, bridge, and maybe the boulder.
And these look great on the Board. Can't wait to paint that boulder!

Monday, May 24, 2010

More Thrift Store Finds !!

A month or so ago me and the boy were at a thrift store seeing whats good and i found a huge bag of parts for a toy called the Girder and Panel Building System. Salvation Army was asking $2.99 for this whole set pictured.

It's a very cool toy, with a unique building system. But that's not why i bought it. You see, what is in the picture above is left over that i will be listing on Ebay in the next few days( back to this in a second ). I bought the $2.99 bag of Building System to build this:
This is perfect for my Warhammer 40k games. I glued the girders together with Elmer's glue (nothing fancy) then painted everything with Dwarf Bronze by Citadel. As you can see by the pictures i missed some spots but i will fix those eventually. I added rubble and walls and such from just crap i have around for my war-gaming. Eventually i will build ramps and floors that fighters can camp out on or snipe from.

Which brings me to the Ebay thing. My board games and war torn buildings for said games are all over the place. I have put most of my Star Wars collection in storage just to make room for all my gaming stuff. So i am going to sell the remaining girders etc. on Ebay. But..

But, if it doesn't sell i am going to keep this set and build a ginormous building with floors,ramps,lights etc.The build i am picturing will be so big IT will be the playing board. It won't be decoration, It will be THE game.

So i guess we will see. Here's more pictures with Warhammer 40k figures for scale.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

The Empire Strikes Back - 1950's Version!!!!

What if Star Wars was a 50's 3-D Movie? ~ That was the premise in which filmmaker Ivan Guerrero concocted the above "1950 PREMAKE" of Star Wars' The Empire Strikes Back! CLICK THRU for more info, including a frame-by-frame visual comparison between the actual George Lucas-directed sci-fi classic from the 70's, and Ivan's edits

Ronnie James Dio Tribute By Robert Brockway

I've been reading the obligatory tributes to Dio over the past week and most are nice remembrances and heart felt condolences. In fact, Mr. Dio was my first concert i ever went to. That night ended with me jumping from my Moms car because she was taking me to the hospital to get my stomach pumped because she thought i was on drugs. I thought of telling that epic tale when i learned of his death but it didn't seam to me a good enough tribute.
The following tribute by Robert Brockway is befitting a king. The King of Metal. Ronnie James Dio.
It's a long article, but Dio gave you 54 years of music.Fifty Four Years!*(* wiki-first 7-inch single was released in 1958 on Reb Records under the name Ronnie & The Redcaps)
 Give him the 20 minutes and read the tribute.
Blood. My mouth tasted like blood and steering wheel… probably because my mouth was full of blood and steering wheel. My vision came back in pieces, the peripherals first. I saw the empty passenger seat covered in shimmering glass. Half the driver’s side armrest was ripped from the door, one of the mounting screws embedded in my leg. I heard the pattering drip of rain, but couldn’t feel the moisture; I dimly came to realize it was just the sound of various engine fluids leaking, falling to the ground.
“OnStar, this is Tammy. Our sensors are reading an impact, is everyone OK?” a voice chimed from the guidance system.
“Tammy,” I coughed, tasting the telltale grit of shattered enamel. I spat blood into my lap, laced with the white powder that used to be teeth.
“Yes, sir?”
“Tammy… what… ” It was impossible to assemble my thoughts. My mind seized on any random fleeting notion – I had a rabbit as a child, didn’t I? What was its name? Something stupid, childish: Mr. Hopper, maybe.

“Sir? Are you all right? What is it?” Her first response had been automatic, perfunctory. It was a duty to be carried out. She sounded concerned now.
“Tammy… what… are you wearing?”
“I bet it’s hot. You sound…” a wretched cough came again, covering the inside of the windshield in a fine red mist, like bloody morning dew, “you sound kind of slutty, Tammy. Is it crotchless? I’ll take pretty much anything crotchless.”
“Is this a prank? My sensors show a serious impact. If you need help, tell me.”
“Panties, gym shorts, hell, even crotchless overalls would do me solid,” I pawed at my seat belt, couldn’t work the latch. Realized it wasn’t even on– something was wrong with the nerves in my hand. Having trouble registering shapes. “Oh man, especially crotchless overalls. You are just filthy, aren’t you, Tammy?
“Sir, I’m hanging up now,” her voice had a mechanical flatness to it, the speaker fuzzed, cut in and out. What do you do if you crash so hard you wreck the OnStar?
“No! Please… wait, I’m hurt. There’s been an accident.”
“Sir, is everybody else OK? Is anybody else hurt?”
“No, I’m alone.”
“Are you sure? What caused the accident?”
“I did.”
There was a moment of silence. I swore I could see her face. I pictured her with pigtails; something about girl’s names that end with ‘Y’ makes me envision little pigtails all tied up with bows.
“On purpose?” she asked, my mind filling in the quizzical head tilt.
“Yes. I crashed this car.”
“But why, sir?” she asked sincerely. Those little bows; they were blue.
“I crashed this car…” I held up my hand, though I knew there was nobody there to see it, with the pointer and pinky fingers extended, “…I crashed this fucking car for Dio.”

Blood. My mouth tasted like blood and the police officer’s arm… probably because my mouth was full of blood and the police officer’s arm.
“HEEEELP! HE’S DOWN TO THE BONE! HE’S DOWN TO THE FUCKING BONE!” Pure panic had taken the man over; his jaw trembled and wagged loose as though unhinged.
I braced my arms and legs against the doorway and held myself immobile. The officer stood on the opposite side, his whole body pivoted and leaning away as if to flee. He was held fast only by the teeth I’d sunk deep into his arm-fat. We’d been like this for far too long, he and I. With every gnash of my teeth, he panicked and struck me with his nightstick; with every strike, I gnashed my teeth. Two hours we had stood locked in the doorway of the Krispy Kreme, the angle of our bodies the only thing preventing the officers from physically separating us. Well, that and the fear of rabies. Somehow they’d gotten the impression that I was rabid. Possibly because I’d stripped to the waist and written the letters ‘R-A-B-I-D’ on my bare chest in custard.
Also the biting. That likely cemented the assumption.
The hostage negotiators tried to reason with me at first, but I wouldn’t fall for their tricks. Making demands required a mouth to speak them, and I would not release.
“Please,” the officer’s eyes welled up and spilled over with tears, “I got kids. Probably. I probably got kids. I banged a lot in college.”
I narrowed my eyes at him skeptically, and bit down harder. Did you know that cops taste different than normal people? I mean, at least the arm-flesh does. Tangier. Must be something in the uniform.
“AWOW OH GOD! OK!” He held up his other hand to placate me. “I didn’t. I didn’t bang at all, all right? Jesus, I’m so lonely. I haven’t even yet lived! Please!”
I shook my head, starting into a death-roll like a crocodile. Like a half-naked, custard-covered, Krispy Kreme Krokodile.
“No! Why!? Good lord, why are you doing this?”
“For Dio!” I howled, realizing, too late, that I had loosed my grip. The momentum of release sent the officer sprawling into the parking lot, and he rolled with it. There was no pause in his movement; he’d hit the ground and transitioned straight into a dead sprint. Even as he leapt the barricade, barreled through the crowd that had gathered, and disappeared down the street and across the distant horizon, he showed no signs that he would ever slow.
“FOR DIIIOOO!” the impossibly loud moan broke loose from me in wracking sobs. When it died out, there was only a dim ringing. A still, reverberating sort of silence, as the eardrum re-calibrated itself to hear softer sounds again. I watched the world on mute.
Until I heard the staccato patter of the beanbag guns firing.

Blood. My mouth tasted like blood and kerosene, probably because– well, you get the drill by now, right?
My chest ballooned with the deep inhalation, the stale air around me thick with the stink of animals and sweat. I continued filling myself with the seemingly infinite stream of air – as much as my nostrils would allow. A thousand pairs of eyes were trained solely on me, awaiting my next movement with equal parts dread and anticipation. Still I inhaled, the pressure building on the interior of my skull, the strain on the inside of my chest becoming unbearable. When the dim exploding circles of oxygen deprivation bristled at the edges of my vision, I held the torch out in front of me, and I screamed fire into the crowds.
Fearful cries welled up from animal and man alike. The lions threw themselves at the bars of their cage as the flames raced up the central beam to the canvas above us. It was all I could do not to laugh when the clowns ran.
It was an effort I lost when I saw that one of them was a midget.
The strongman shook his head, trying to clear it of the blow I’d knocked him down with. I don’t mean to imply that I’m a prize-fighter here; he had absolutely pummeled me before I landed that shot. Every inch of exposed flesh swelled with the dull ache of rising bruises, and I was pretty sure I’d lost my front left canine in his knuckle. But eventually he stopped. Eventually he left me for dead, figuring that the puddle of oozing meat beneath his boot-heel couldn’t possibly hold any semblance of life. And so I seized my opportunity.
But here he was now, coming around, and I was again trying to take in enough oxygen to ignite the kerosene in my mouth before he could reach me. He strode forward in purposeful, furious bounds, and just before his arcing roundhouse connected, I tossed the lighter up into the air between us.
His blow connected, and the contents of my mouth exploded outwards. The abrupt trauma caused my perception of time to slow temporarily: I saw the first shining droplet contact the flickering lighter’s flame; the tiny, almost imperceptible explosion soon mirrored a dozen times over; a hundred; a thousand. As the fireball engulfed the two of us, I embraced the baffled strongman and put my lips to his ear.
“For Dio,” I whispered.

Coffee. My mouth tasted like coffee and a little bit like cheese Danish, probably because it was full of coffee and a little bit of cheese Danish.
The constant, clattering rattle of my fellow office workers typing was somehow amplified and made hollow, bouncing off the walls of my cubicle. One half of my hand was asleep, split down the middle vertically: The ring and pinky fingers gone numb. Something about the height at which I held my mouse did that, I presumed. I fumbled it over and closed Firefox. I swallowed my coffee; it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life.
“Shit,” I mumbled in shock.
“What’s up, man? Everything OK?” Stanley, my friend in the cubicle opposite me, poked his head over the wall like the neighbor from Home Improvement. I hated when he did that. Trying to hold a conversation with somebody peeking down at you over a wall while you remain sitting at your desk is so fundamentally awkward. Your seated posture, which seemed so natural a second ago, suddenly feels stupid and inappropriate.
“Dio just died,” I recited to him, like I had only memorized the words phonetically and had no idea as to their meaning.
“What? Who?”
I stood up abruptly, the back of my knees straightening so quickly that they sent my wheeled office chair spinning out into the corridor between cubicle rows.
“Whoa, what’s going on, dude?” Stanley asked, coming around the barrier to stare into my face. “Oh shit. I know that look. That’s the ‘I’m going out to get supernaturally tanked and engage in a series of increasingly wacky shenanigans that accidentally end in tragedy’ look. Am I right?”
“No, Stanley,” I informed him, adjusting the length of my shirt-cuffs on my wrists and straightening my tie, “What happens next is very deliberate. In a moment, I am going to take the elevator to the ground floor, where I will exit this building. I will proceed two blocks east to Promenade Plaza, where I will strip naked and lay siege to the doughnut shop. If police arrive, I will maul them with my teeth. I will escape on foot, and make my way to the fairgrounds out by the paper mill. Once there, I will burn down the circus. Then I am going to steal the largest, fastest car I can find, and I am going to crash that car at a terrible speed into the oldest and most sacred looking tree I can find. I will then mouth-fuck the OnStar operator from the wreckage.”
All measure of reason drained from Stanley’s face.
“But why?” He asked plainly.
“Because Dio taught me, in part, what it is to be a man. Oh, he did not teach the rational lessons: He did not teach me morality, or responsibility, or restraint. No, Stanley, he taught me that being a man means sometimes ruining things in the most extravagant fashion possible. Because you can, and because it’s awesome. And Dio died today, so now I am going to ruin things. I am going to ruin everything, Stanley. For Dio.”
I took another bite of Danish; I would need the calories.
“But first, Stanley, first I am going to orally pleasure the receptionist – your fiancé – on top of the copier. I will set the machine for 666 copies, and if she has not climaxed by the time it’s finished making them, I will throw her out the window. I’ll be sure to mail one to you, buddy.

“W… wh…”
“What’s that? Why? You want to know why, again? Because you didn’t know his name, Stanley. You didn’t know his god damn name. But you will now. It was Ronnie James, incidentally. Ronnie James Motherfucking Dio. But that’s okay: I promise this time, you won’t soon forget it.”
I polished off the rest of my coffee, and gently pushed him aside.
“Welp, I gotta be off now to pleasure your woman and commit some Tribute Crimes. Oh, and Stanley?” I turned, clapping him reassuringly on the shoulder, “Ride the tiger, buddy. Ride the tiger.”

Wednesday, May 19, 2010


When did my blog become a fucking Monument to the dead. First Frazetta. Then Dio. Now i find out the band ISIS are calling it quits. Read ISIS statement Here.  I came really close to giving up on Metal at one point. Bands like Neurosis, ISIS, and Earth renewed my faith in not only heavy music, but all music. These bands also opened me up to many other bands i wasn't familiar with. So ISIS call it quits. Godsmack hit number one on Billboard.

 ISIS -Backlit

"Always object, never subject."

ISIS -Celestial (The Tower)

Hard rock rocked Billboard‘s albums chart this week. Godsmack‘s latest effort, Oracle, debuts at No. 1. with 117,000 copies sold. It’s their third album to top the chart. Lady Antebellum‘s Need You Now holds strong at No. 2 with 97,000 units moved. MercyMe’s The Generous Mr. Lovewell debuts  at No. 3 with 88,000.
New Dixie Chicks side project Court Yard Hounds debuts at No. 7 with their self-titled set, moving 61,000 copies. And AC/DC’s Iron Man 2 soundtrack falls three places to No. 8 with 55,000 sold.
Toni Braxton’s Pulse is the last debut to appear in the top 10. She comes in at No. 9 with 54,000 copies sold. Usher’s Raymond v. Raymond closes out the top 10, falling four spots with 51,000. B.o.B’s The Adventures of Bobby Ray was last week’s chart king, but fell to No. 12 this time around with 36,000 sold.

Old School Video Games

Video Games nowadays are as spectacular as film or t.v. I think (unlike Roger Ebert) that they are in fact superior to film in you have a vested interest in the outcome of the game as opposed to a passive care when engaged in a film. Games like God Of War 3, Modern Warfare, Fallout 3, etc. are literally jaw dropping beautiful with state of the art graphics, sound, and immersible game play.The advent of motion controls (Wii nun chucks, Sony move) and 3-D graphics are becoming commonplace as Video Games move into the year 2011.

All that being said i still find old school video games more enjoyable. Not better. Certainly not superior in anyway to the lowliest Video Game today. Yet its the way the game designers took the tools and resources available to them and still made engaging games. Looking at these games now usually evokes smiles and laughs. But try to look at these games through the eyes of a 12 year old. A 12 year old in a world without Youtube. A world where there's no DVD's. No XBOX, no Ipod. Your in your friends basement. Last weekend you had snuck into the theater down the block to see Aliens. Now your friends older brother bought the video game for his Commodore 64. You just got out of school and high on Kool-aid you guys put the game in.

Are you there?



Monday, May 17, 2010


I just found some old papers in my messenger bag. Most were scribbled notes of board game pieces i need or half finished "honey-do" lists, but on one of the papers is a list of "things i HATE". I don't remember writing this but it sounds like stuff i hate.
Tim Allen
John Cusak ( i actually got in a verbal altercation with this dick wad at Smart Bar back in the 90's)
smokers (i quit 4 years ago and now the smell gives me horrible headaches)
fake vivid video like porn
lady gaga
Jersy Shore
the fact that almost all "reality" shows are fake
Kat von D

R.I.P. Ronnie James Dio July 10, 1942 – May 16, 2010

Music as we know it would not be the same had you not influenced, not only your genre, but popular culture as well. We lost a legend this weekend. Goodbye Dio, and thanks.

Monday, May 10, 2010

They Are Legend / Artist Spotlight - Frank Frazetta

This man passed away today at a nice ripe old age of 82 today. That still doesn't make it any easier to deal with his death. His art was the first i saw as a kid that gave me pause. His colors seemed from another world. His buxom women helped define my idea of what was beautiful before MTV and the like. To list the artists he influenced would take me a life time. Goodbye friend.
His sketchbook

I-Phone Apps i Love

The Hipstamatic App turns your I-Phone into a vintage camera. The App lets you use different film, flashes, and lens to take some of the most awesome photos.My wife has been having so much fun with the App she started a blog to showcase her photos.
Here is some info and stuff on the App
Look at these phots i took just messing around with the App the first day i downloaded it.
Yoshi at the park. (Whats also cool is if you forget the combo of lens-film-flash you used your I-Phone tells you when you click on the photo.That's helpful because this next photo was taken same day etc.but with different film,lens, as the Yoshi one.Note the very different results
And again notice the differences of these pictures of my lovely wife and mother in law on Mothers Day.

An amazing App.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Lego Star Wars

Note to self: play more Legos with my son.