M-alone goes skydiving

Check out Malone's Flickr account and see him go skydiving with Tom Petty.

This may be my biggest score of all time

Mankind by Mick Foley purchased for ten cents at the St Vincent De Paul Thrift Store.



After reading just four chapters I am convinced that our own Rebel Leady Boy is the Mick Foley of the blogging world, because they are both Hard Core to the max.

CAKE

Did you know that in an office this big at any given point a clerical hunter-gatherer can find cake somewhere? (Sort of like the fact that at any given point in time and space there is a Beatles song playing on the radio, most likely 'Hey Jude') My cubemate and I just scored some baby-shower cake. The cake is rather nasty. Office cake always is. And yet the natives, for lack of any other distraction, hunt it down, consume it, and then waste at least twenty minutes discussing why they shouldn't have eaten it in the first place. At least according to my recent field notes.

And now I have to carve my way through three inches of extraneous toothpaste icing to get to the chocolate in this congratulations-you-had-or-will-have-a-baby cake, and I will probably make myself ill, and the flourescent lights are starting to flicker, and I'm ... so... cold...

My Year of Driving Dangerously

I have decided to designate the period between June 1st 2005 and May 29th 2006 My Year of Driving Dangerously. Everything has gone wrong this year, but I have finally become a woman of the road. Finally, I can drive.

I've known the banked curves of highway one in Big Sur and I can pass slow tourists on the pull-outs;I know how fast my Nissan can take corners, I know how to speed on the Bixby bridge (I still get passed by mad bikers, though). I have driven dirt roads in the fog with one headlight, passed rogue roosters on the Sycamore canyon drive, bumped past Al Jardeen's horses and crawled in traffic near Nepenthe, reading Thomas Hardy when things got really slow.

I know the stretch of highway between Santa Cruz and Monterey so well I can do it with my eyes shut. I know the sky and the artichoke fields and I've seen double and triple rainbows like weird helixes above the mountains whose names I still don't know.

I know all the different ways to get to Frisco and how long each one takes.
I've lost my fear of Highway 17--that narrow bastard over the mountains and through the redwoods--curving and carsick and claustrophobic. Now I can drive it drinking coffee in a downpour while cycling through the radio stations and singing along with a cigarette in the corner of my mouth.

I've been lost on the steepest street in San Francisco while driving a stick shift, sure I was going to die, and I mastered the trick with the emergency brake, gunning the engine, to prevent rollback. Now I can drive all through the hilliest city in the country in every gear, without screaming. I laugh in the face of automatic transmissions.

I remember the moment of revelation, on Highway 1, when I discovered what DOWNSHIFTING was all about. POWER!!!

I have driven in hail. I have navigated the banliueux of Menlo Park, the Berkeley hills, the road to Felton and the secret way down to the San Lorenzo river. I can turn left fearlessly. I even change lanes.

It's all so elementary, and yet it is my only accomplishment of my 30th year. I don't know whether to be proud or feel pathetic.

I've lived in my car this year. I don't like it. I've spent thousands on gas. I miss walking. I can't wait to park old Rudy for three months on a mountaintop at Tassajara.
She needs a break. And so do I.

Thank god I've survived. So far.
I can't wait to be a pedestrian again.

Gamma Gamma Hey!

Look what I found on the top shelf of my closet -

Hulk Hands, 2006!


[ Click to view larger image. ]

I should've cut a hole in one of them for a St. Patricks Day beer-holder/beer-cozy thing.

Nice shirt Boz

Why thank you, it was a present from my German fan club.



It's the same kind that Elvis Pummel wears.

What The Hell's That Depressed Things Name From Winnie The Pooh?

You Are 40% Happy

You're not miserable, but you could stand to be a lot happier. Focus on what's right in the world, and you'll be happier than you ever thought possible.

How Happy Are You?

Another one for AmyJo

Since my baby pics have become tired with all the changes we've added to them, I decided to pull this one out and let you cats have some fun here.

Before you ask yes this is a real image, a CT of my head post 1990 surgery. The hole above my eyes is still there and you can feel it. This operation took 10 and a half hours and I needed it in more ways than you can realize. (Had I been in a hard enough wreck before this surgery I'd probably be dead.)

I don't see this as dramatic (some may remember Jonnie posting this at one of his old blogs, calling me "Juan Bodley, Amish Porn Star".) Paint this one up and make me laugh. The x-ray scan of the screws (and maybe a "guess how many there are" contest will follow...)

The proof is in the shit you steal...

<--- This is all the stuff I "gathered" at the '06 MGWA convention, held yesterday at Grand Rapids, MI. (Yes Boz and I were in the same state yesterday and it didn't fall into Lake Michigan.) You can see the door prize shirt at the bottom, the lanyards to the left, all the pens and pencils, and of course the HATS!! (It looks like only 4 hats, but the Franklin Electric hats and the Red Jacket Pump hats are stacked up.)









<---What this pic represents are all the hats I've gotten over the past 3 years while being a well driller's Tool Bitch. In front are the "06 haul (so far...one of our suppliers has a beer and beef bash this summer, and there's reps there, as well as more hats to come.) In the back are the previous years hauls; the black hat with the circular logo (Goulds Pumps) started the whole "JohnnyC Steals Hats At The Convention" craze. Of them all I'd say the Well-X-Trol hat at the back left (the camoflauge hat) is the one I wear most of the time.

Now go get yourselves some hats.

Under where? Under there.

What Your Underwear Says About You

You like to think of yourself as innocent, even though you're not! You are childlike (or childish), and prone to run around in your underwear.

The Underwear Oracle

Happy Birthday

Your Birthdate: June 12

You're a dynamic, charismatic person who's possibly headed for fame. You tend to charm strangers easily. And you usually can get what you want from them. Verbally talented, you tend to persuade people with your speaking and writing. You are affectionate and loving, but it's hard for you to commit to any one relationship. Your strength: Your charm Your weakness: Your extreme manipulation tactics Your power color: Indigo Your power symbol: Four leaf clover Your power month: December

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Hot town, summer in the city

You Are Austin

A little bit country, a little bit rock and roll. You're totally weird and very proud of it. Artistic and freaky, you still seem to fit in... in your own strange way. Famous Austin residents: Lance Armstrong, Sandra Bullock, Andy Roddick

What American City Are You?

Here's the story of a lovely lady ...

You Are Jan Brady

Brainy and a little introverted, you tend to think life is a lot worse than it actually is. And while you may think you're a little goofy looking, most people consider you to be a major babe.

What Brady Are You?

Thursday is now quiz day

You Are Homer Simpson

You're just an ordinary, all-American working Joe... With a special fondness for pork rinds and donuts. You will be remembered for: your little "isms" and philosophies on life Your life philosophy: "Weaseling out of things is important to learn. It's what separates us from the animals ... except the weasel."

The Simpsons Personality Test

For the fantastic AmyJo...

Because I stalk her with wit and finesse, I offer this pic to AmyJo, to show that I've had it in for her since I was but a wee lad, still all put together, and fantastic from head to toe (and in certain places inbetween...)

So print this one off and use it when you file for the restraining order, AmyJo...and then the world will regret that we never got our freak on together.

Arrivaderci to that pipe dream...

The well driller's bounty...

OK so today was the Michigan Ground Water Association's convention at Grand Rapids, and I was there. (In case you were wondering we go to Michigan's show it's because the Indiana convention is pathetic, according to the boss of the Tool Bitch, Steve.) And of course I was on a mission for new hats. Always new hats. Not that I need hats mind you, it's just that the exhibitors know, like I said earlier, well drillers (and their tool bitches) like hats.

Today I got 6.
One from Preferred Pump, two from Franklin Electric, two from Red Jacket Pumps, and one from Goulds Pumps. Along with a t-shirt I won as a door prize from Johnson Screens (no they're not a condom company!!;) I got a ruler, 4 notepads, 3 notebooks, a cheap pocketknife, 3 keyrings, 5 lanyards, 8 pens, and 13 pencils. And some damn good well information. So if you want to know about constant pressure pumps, I'm the tool bitch with the down low.
And I'll say this: these companies hand out the candy like it's Halloween there. All sorts of candy for Johnny...mmmm, candy!!

It's a great day for hats!!

Pics of this excess of five-fingering at the convo. may come later, or maybe not. We shall see.

Elvis Pummel demands your comments

Gott in himmel, I'm Elvis Pummel.

2006 Years Of Culture...

Mommy
Daddy
Gum
Shoes
Nails
Sex
Pot
Weed
Flowers
Stamen
Ramen
Noodles
Brains
Zombies
Hungry
Want
Need
Thirsty
Milk
Breast
Mommy
Daddy
Gum
Shoes
Nails
Sex
Pot
Weed
Flowers
Stamen
Ramen
Noodles
Brains
Zombies
Hungry
Want
Need
Thirsty
Milk
Breast
Mommy
Daddy
Gum
Shoes
Nails
Sex
Pot
Weed
Flowers
Stamen
Ramen
Noodles
Brains
Zombies
Hungry
Want
Need
Thirsty
Milk
Breast
Mommy
Daddy
Gum
Shoes
Nails
Sex
Pot
Weed
Flowers
Stamen
Ramen
Noodles
Brains
Zombies
Hungry
Want
Need
Thirsty
Milk
Breast

Mmmmm...chicken.

Too Much Caffeine

Rock On!!!

Say no to Michigan

This post originally said that I wasn't going to the well driller's convention tomorrow (Wednesday...) but now I've found out (at 9:30 PM) that I'll be going.

So now I'm somewhat happier.

But on Friday I see the general surgeon about my GALLBLADDER. And how much surgery will cost. So in reality I'm in a state of flux.

AmyJo, Boz, Jonnie, Sandra, Rosa, All of Blogdom, I apologize for taking it out on you.
Sister Jennifer of the Convent of the Hello Kitty, you will still take my grief.

Fun in Michigan!

Tomorrow is a fabulous day for Midwestern well drillers...I'll be attending the Michigan Ground Water Association's convention at Grand Rapids. Rigs, bits, pipe, valves, tanks, all the goodies that well drillers use every day (at least when they're working!!) But I only go for one reason: free hats. Several companies give out hats to drillers (and their tool bitches - that would be me) because we never turn down a free toque. So hopefully tomorrow night (or Thursday) I'll have some pics of my bounty-haul from the 2006 MGWA show. And we'll all go deep in the hole.

Juan Bodley, Bootlegger...

I'm trying to stretch my technical boundaries today...I've got 3 DVDs I'm going to try and burn just the audio off of them for my own in-car, in-ear rock and roll experience. The discs are:

Metallica's Cunning Stunts
Van Halen's Live Without A Net (featuring a blistering solo on "5150"-Eddie at his best echoplex)
Stevie Ray Vaughn's Live At Austin Texas (the 2 times he was on the PBS show Austin City Limits...his takes on his own "Texas Flood" and Jimi's "Voodoo Chile" still make me shiver)

If I'm successful I'll be smiling for a week. If not I've wasted CDs on useless endeavors. Updates will follow. Bootlegs may also appear at your local Goodwill...keep an eye out for them.

Zen Goodwill

I scored bigtime in the Zen center's Goodwill bins on Saturday.

I found 4 cassettes including:

The Bangles first album (before they found their sound--it sucks)
Tunnel of Love--Bruce Springsteen (worth it just for the song "Tougher than the Rest"--though I nearly wrecked the car trying to rewind it)
Hearts and Bones--Paul Simon (remember, this was all absolutely FREE)
and BEST OF ALL

JOHN COUGAR MELLANCAMP! He puts the camp in Melloncamp! He's the poet laureate of Indiana! The hoosiers will kill me because I probably spelled Meloncamp wrong!
Little Pink Houses!
I Fought Authority and Authority Always Wins!

He is a poor man's Bruce Springsteen, but you have to love him.

I also got two books by my man Thomas Hardy and my main man Herman Melville.

It was a good day for zen scavenging.

the way of all flesh--elegy for a stack of pancakes

So I just heard from my little sister Shellyjo that the greatest pancake joint north of the Rio Grande, the Omlettery, late of Austin, Texas
has
gone
downhill.

Let me tell you, their pancakes used to be as light and fluffy as Sealy Posturpedics. They used to be so chock-full of blueberries or chocolate chips that you could hardly see any pancake. They used to drip with butter and soak syrup like eager sponges. They used to arrive piping hot in the hands of an adorable 20 year old boy or girl. They used to make me buzz like a queen bee. On a Sunday morning after Bikram yoga, they were transcendent. Even my anorexic friend would eat them.

I used to dream of those pancakes. I'd make a pilgramage to Austin just to eat them.

No more.

Apparently now they are dry and skimpy on the blueberries, rubbery and just no good.

I shed a tear for what was, and what might still have been.

Omlettery pancakes, we hardly knew ye.

I regret only having eaten several dozen. If I'd known, I'd have made my home in the corner booth, right below the painting of the mystical mexican chickens, and I'd have savored every goddamned transient bite.

Alas.

But the fried egg sandwiches at the St.Francis Cafe in the Mission in San Francisco haven't failed yet.

Look out Hasselhoff

There is a new king of German pop music.
Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce ...
Elvis Pummel!!!



Sandra, why have you been keeping him to yourself?
(Right click on link and open in new window.)

Regional slang

Jonnie's Linguistic Quiz reminded me of an unusual slang word, and it's meaning, that was common to only certain parts of the south that I first encountered back in 1969 when I enlisted in the air force.
If you said you needed some cock it actually meant that you needed some pussy.
Is anyone else familiar with that term?
Do you know any other regional slang terms?

Sunday Quiz Day

Your Linguistic Profile:

80% General American English

15% Yankee

5% Upper Midwestern

0% Dixie

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

I can't help it

This is a masterpiece.





Not Ready For Real World ... Blogger Style

NRFRW ... BS

Blog Update

Uh Oh.

I think im on heat.

I had a date yesterday with an American boy, it was fun.

But the thing is i still want the one that i cant have. its not that i cant have him its just that..

I dont think he wants me.

The American is sweet and handsome, shy and very very cute..

the other one is an offensive brute.

Bloody hell..

Im going to go sit on the washing machine.

A request denied

A request fulfilled...

Jonnie, you said this pic would be better if I had an eyepatch; so here ya go!!

666

So, if everything goes as well as it has been so far, then I'm going to move in at Jonnie's place on june 6th.

06/06/06.

And yes, we chose that date because it's so easy to remember.

And yes, I'm going to take the same airline that offered free Playboy magazines and calendars and I'm going to take it for that very reason.

And no, I didn't say "you can stop crossing your fingers for our visa process" because I can still fuck it up (on april 10 (medical) and on may 9 (final interview)).

Thank you for your attention.

Y' Know...

I'm not in the mood to be clever.

Each letter that I type is like a silent fart.

JohnnyC. Calls the RW...BS Radio Show!!

OK so there's no radio show here...just thought you'd all like to hear my dulcet tones eminating from yer computer speakerz again. Enjoy!

JohnnyC.-the early yearz

Found this in the computer the other day...it was there for a DVD that my sister made for my grandparents' 60th anniversary party. This is one of a FEW pics of me that exist with both eyes. This I think was at (maybe) 6 months. There's just not that many of me like this because, well, who knew??

I like that even way back then (1971 for you who don't know my age) I had the stoner look and I've never done any drugs, except for Vicodin within the past 5 years. Love that stuff!!

So there he is. Now you know why I don't reproduce.

sexual tension is GO

Welcome Kevvyn.

I'm hoping that this is just what is needed to FINALLY get us together..


p.s... You complete me.

It was only a matter of time

Rip-off is the sincerest form of flattery ... or is it?
Click click click

As I was motivating over the hill ...

If someone else doesn't post soon I'm going to have to change the name of the blog to
The Grand Ennui Annex.

Al's last babble on

So anyway ...

Ten things I know about Malone

1. He chews with his mouth open.
2. He spent five years in a Menudo tribute band.
3. He is a hit man for the Vietnamese Mafia.
4. He is Stewie's stand-in on the Family Guy.
5. He caused the rift between Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie.
6. He is the baby jesus.
7. His real name is Melvin Kalzone.
8. He is working on a scientific thesis that states that girls really do have cooties.
9. If given the chance he would drink Natalie Portman's old bath water and then brag about it.
10. He is morbidly obese and hasn't left his bedroom for five years and he spends his days watching his bootlegged tape collection of The Price is Right that date back over 30 years.

Geez, I look like the little asian kid from THE GOLDEN CHILD...

Hi.

My name is Kevynn Malone.
I will be here forever.
I am a big, fat piggie.

Please give me beer and small, individually wrapped candies.

NOW.

A new house member

Who is the mysterious new house member???

Teriyaki Jerky, Take One

My first jerky

After being chided by both Sandra and Jonnie about never having tried beef jerky I went to Klenow's Market today and bought some home smoked jerky. They had about 15 different varieties including many types of beef, and they also had turkey, elk, and a few other kinds of strange beastie jerky. I couldn't believe how expensive it is. All varieties are $16.99 but the butcher told me that this time of year they have a different variety on sale for half price every week. This week's special was teriyaki flavored beef jerky. I was a little leary but the butcher gave me a sample and it was pretty good, so I bought a quarter of a pound. It's hard to tell from just a little sample but the teriyaki does seem kind of hot or spicy, or both. The butcher seemed very proud of his jerky. He told me that their best seller was regular beef jerky, followed by turkey jerky, and I think he said the number three seller was mild beef jerky, and then after that I quit paying attention to what he was saying.
Bon Appetit!!!

Pics of the loot from Jonnie

The cassettes in my Doc Marten shoe box.



Jonnie's cover art I.



Jonnie's cover art II.



Chinese fortune cookie fortunes in English, and Jonnie's 30 regular ass sticker.



The other side of the Chinese fortune cookie fortunes in Spanish.



The shirt, you can tell I like it because my nipple is hard.

Do you have Prince Albert in the can?

Phone messages for Jonnie.
About five minutes of random telephone messages left for Jonnie when he was in Alaska in 1998.

Package from Jonnie

Listen as Boz describes the contents of his package from Jonnie.

Actually, I prefer Joan

Which John Cusack Are You?

Noooooooooooooooo

Which "Saved By The Bell" Character Are You?

Sunday Quiz Night

Which singer who had his greatest success in the 70s and 80s recorded this Dylanesque song in 1967?

Sunday Quiz Day

I'm Posh - Go, Me!

Which Spice Girls Personality Do You Resemble?



You're Victoria Beckham.

Take this quiz!

In honor of Jonnie and Sandra's 2nd anniversary I had a dream about them

And this was before I even realized that it was their anniversary.

I wasn't in the dream, I was just sort of watching it like one would watch tv, so maybe Jonnie and Sandra had their own reality based tv show, and how cool would that be.

Anyway, in the dream Jonnie and Sandra were having a conversation when Sandra looks down at her watch and excitedly says:
Oh my god, I have to go run laps.

Jonnie thinks this is incredibly funny and he starts mimicking what Sandra had just said in a very broad and fake German accent.

This really pisses Sandra off, and as she is leaving she starts yelling at Jonnie, and the more she yells the faster she yells, and the faster she yells the more pronounced her accent is, and as her accent becomes more pronounced her yelling becomes a mixture of both English and German ...

Jonnie is practically rolling on the floor by now convulsed in laughter.

And I'm sitting there watching the Jonnie and Sandra Reality Show and saying to myself:
Wow, this is really good.

Two Years - Two Redpops

The two Redpops that Boz sent have been chilling for days and I think today is the day to break them open -


Today is also my & Sandra's 2nd anniversary, so I have one Redpop for each year.

I think next year, boz should send 3 Redpops on our anniversary.

The label is different, but I hope they haven't tampered with the recipe.

Nathan's Hot Dogs

Originally from Coney Island. The best goddamned dogs available. Anywhere. And kosher to boot. I knew someone who cooked them 'german-style', which means cooking them very very slowly in water for about 45 minutes, so they got all slick and tender and flavorful--not rubbery like most home-made hot dogs, but velvety and full of these succulent oils--they'd dissolve in your mouth, and with some hot mustard and sauerkraut--well, I don't even LIKE hot dogs that much, but these, these were jewish nirvana.

I love them so much that on my next next birthday I want to make a pilgramage to Coney Island to see the bearded lady and eat a Nathan's hot dog.

New smoking law

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20060316/us_nm/life_smoking_dc

So this little pissant town in Califnornia--where else--has banned smoking entirely--that's right, you can no longer smoke ANYWHERE outside. It's illegal. Why? Because second hand smoke is considered a toxic emission. That's right--a harmful substance polluting the atmostphere.

Never mind that cars, SUVs, jets, freaking LEAF BLOWERS put more toxic emissions into the air at a much higher rate, causing holes in the ozone and the fucking greenhouse effect--never mind that wars are fought over oil and cause more gore and death--never mind all that, let's target second hand smoke as the giant bogeyman of all toxic gases.

Don't make me laugh.
If they really cared about banning toxic emissions, they'd tell people to quit driving.

Is my one puny cigarette a day smoked outdoors in the great wide open spaces where once the Marlboro man gigged his pony into a manly gallop across freshets of white water is going to cause death and destruction for my fellow beings?

The Marlboro man, you may notice, was actually a pretty environmental guy. He didn't drive. He RODE A HORSE. The only gas horses emit is a mild form of methane. And if he wanted to smoke some nice tobacco while he trotted on his environmentally sound vehicle named Old Paint or Bullet or Silver or Trigger, wearing chaps and eating beans, well then, no harm done.

Jesus Christ, the perspective in this country is freakishly skewed.
I need a cigarette.
Ugh.

Ice Ice Baby

satellite pic of Central and Northern Europe from a few days ago; click to enlarge

No, not nuclear fall-out. Snow. Ice. Snow and Ice. Lots of each. All is white. Plus a couple of yellow spots. Better steer clear of those, I tell you.

Shoes

So yeah, Jonnie needs a new pair of shoes, and I bet he is the only one who ends up not getting a pair.
Here is the pair of Doc Martens I bought yesterday.



Like I really need another pair of shoes.

Coming down

So Boz is going off Zoloft, and I wanted to relate my own experience with coming down off a major antidepressant.

I went on Celexa in the last six months of my tenure at graduate school in order to finish my thesis and keep from killing myself. Not necessarily in that order.

It was a freaky drug--it made me dizzy if I leaned over to towel dry my hair, and I could get drunk very quickly on it, and it killed all empathy in me. That was the scariest. I guess maybe it just brought me up to the normal state that most normal people are at--the brain chemistry that lets people laugh at the nut-shots in "Americas Funniest Home Videos" and the scene with the ball gags in "Pulp Fiction", etc. Anyway, I noticed that I had this inner satanic glee when i was on it--someone would be telling me a story of some emotional trauma and instead of sympathizing with them I'd have to repress the urge to laugh in their faces, tell them they were a whiny moron who was full of melodramatic bullshit and didn't deserve the air it took up to relate their tale of woe; I'd see myself knocking over the table at the sad-sack cafe and scattering sugar packets everywhere and cackling my ass off and disappearing in a puff of red smoke like the Wicked Witch of the West.

Naturally, since this is not normally how I operate, this scared me. I'm used to being all big-eyed and sympathetic. I worried that the drug had uncovered some callous inner bitch who'd been there all along, just waiting to be freed so she could wreak havoc on the fragile egos around her. Seriously, this terrified me. I learned to sit very, very still and be very very quiet and to fake empathy that had previously been who I was. Of course it was this same damned feeling all the pain and suffering of the world that led me to medicate in the first place, so... you can see the problem.

They warned me not to go off of it without supervision. But I was going back to Tassajara, a place I thought would solve everything, and I didn't need drugs and besides there was no way to fill a prescription from deep in the valley, in another state, with no insurance. So I thought, eh, I'll taper off gradually.

Flash forward 5 months. I'm down to cutting my pills into teeny, tiny pieces with the very sharp paring knife I'd stolen from the monastery kitchen and would later contemplate using on my wrists. I would take these tiny pieces of pill every three days, feeling nuttier and nuttier as I did so, and not sure what was chemical and what was emotional and what was because I was running around breaking rules and what was because I was burning up karma by meditating and what was because of the constant fog off the ocean and what was because I was sick of picking strangers' pubic hairs off toilet seats and making beds with hospital corners and what was leftover grief from countless experiences and what was just maudlin bullshit.

I was sitting zazen for several hours a day and that's enough to make anyone crazy, never mind the withdrawal. I was doing things like scrubbing down the showers in the guest house and sobbing uncontrollably. I was doing things like sneaking in on the one computer available to students and shopping compulsively for boots. I was convinced that the right pair of boots would solve everything. I was running around with the wrong people and going off into the woods and singing for hours in a kind of emptied-out mind state and I started thinking the owls had special messages for me.

I would visit the body of the washed-up dead whale on the beach and watch dogs pee on it and contemplate walking out into the ocean and n