Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Ghost Clothes

Why, when people claim to see ghosts, do they see them wearing clothes?  Did their clothes die with them, or is there a special department store in the afterlife that sells ghost clothes? Personally, I think I'd be way scarier if I jumped out in front of somebody naked, with all my dangley bits in full view...even more if I were a ghost.

A ghost department store would have to be huge.  Think of all the periods of fashion that it would have to cater to, even clear down to caveman times.  Come to think of it, why aren't there people seeing caveman ghosts? Why are there not EVPs with grunting noises from caveman ghosts? Probably the grunting EVPs are mistaken for demons or sexy ghosts.  Anyway, I got off track again.

So, you die, and the first thing you need in the afterlife are some kick-ass duds.  Do you need ghost cash or credit?  How would you go about getting that kind of thing?  Is it all gratis???  I can't imagine God shouting you the cash to go buy a new wardrobe without asking you first if you plan on scaring the shit out of the living.  I don't know, maybe God is cool with that, and scaring the shit out of people on earth is just what spirits in the afterlife do for fun.  Going haunting would be a great first date, I'd think.  Now I'm certain I know where ghost moans come from. And if you are getting sexed up by a moaning ghost, just assume that it is probably a former, horny Frenchman, and the correct response is either, "get out of my ass/vagina" or "enchanté".  Either way, you'll be down for a day or two afterwards.

When I die and become a ghost, what look should I go for?  Chains are pretty heavy, but I'm sure that ghost chains are pretty light, just noisy.  Would I keep my original earth look or go for some flowing, tattered sheets?  I guess I'd probably do several looks.  My family and friends would be less likely to shit their pants if I looked more like I did when I was alive.  Maybe I'd wear some angelic shit just to dazzle them or make them think I pleased God waaaaay more than expected.  I'd have a casual look just for some general ghosting around.  I'd like to haunt some hipsters wearing more stereotypical ghost looks--vintage, let's say--just so they'd detect my hints of irony in my haunting style.  I mean, it's crucial to be aware of things like that, knowing your audience.

In conclusion, ghosts don't need clothes as much as they still are attached to some aspects of mortality and still experience a measure of shame.  Keeping clothed is a ghost's way of staying connected to their former life on earth and retaining some of their mortal identity. 

P.S. Someone should try to kill a shirt or pants, just to see if clothes can die.  If you try this and find a floaty shirt or such, trying to cover your nakedness, give me a call and we'll discuss your experience.  I will share with you my theory of what really happens to those left socks that go missing.

Friday, December 25, 2015

Fresh Squeezed Creative Juice

What does it take to create?  I don't have a straight answer for that.  I do know what must happen to get the most out of your creative process.  What must happen is you let the demon in.  You let that sucker in and open up your psychic pores.  Let an angel in just to see how they get on, and you have some real good times.The resulting ooze comes at a price, however.  

What does it cost?  In my case, I never made much money from being creative and nothing from writing a blog.  Sometimes putting myself out on a limb creatively caused me great anxiety and sometimes have hurt feelings of others, mainly because they were the target of some song or one of these blog posts.  The moments where I let the "Little Red Guy" in (as represented in my avatar), it wasn't some negative thing. Rather, I could not keep up with the flow of ideas and inspiration, it would wear me out and I was subject to heavy episodes of depression after the manic rush of creation subsided.  Where it comes from, I joke, is Satan.  That's a funny way of saying that the ideas I've had surely couldn't have come from God, because I'd get thrown out of church for saying such things there. Anyway, God inspires me plenty. So I joke that it's demons, the imp in the box, or Satan, but it's not you Satan, it's me.

I alluded to mania and depression earlier.  To my best knowledge, I am not bi-polar.  I say this because I have been fairly stable for the last four years.  If there is such a thing, it would be "situational" polar overshoot.  I am making attempts at disciplining my creative hand, rather than depend on such external devices.  Too many people burn out from muse dependency.

Writing and music have been products of mine that I have been reluctant to share freely.  I have more practical projects that I have engaged in lately.  Those are easier to talk to general audiences about, and especially the prudent Mormon folk of my tribe.  I am working on that self consciousness that keeps me from successfully realizing my creative potential, but keeping enough in check so as to not become Mr. Charles Manson Rogers.

Where do I go from here? Hell, I will always create, but I need to at least shoot for one of those big scary ideas that's been floating around in my head.  I figure if it don't get me rich, it might just get me laid, and if none of those two things happen, then perhaps an ice cream cone.

Now, if you don't mind, I have a Fred Astaire-ing contest to attend to.

Ouch, two posts in one week! I think I've done pulled a muscle.

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Elitist Orange

 (Actual photo of the secret "Cremation of Care" ritual at the Bohemian Grove)

I have an idea for a Youtube channel that would blow up the internet.  It would be called "Illuminati Fails", featuring members of said secret organization falling off of skate boards, crashing cars,  tripping over their crimson robes at mock human sacrifice ceremonies (Cremation of Care/Bohemian Grove top ten fails!!!)  The best clip, I hear, is of one of the Rockefeller's falling off of a giant stone owl idol and right into the alter after a drunken dare, naked, of course.  The other fails might consist of wearing a Darth Vader costume to one of those "bird mask and cloak" sex parties I hope to be invited to someday--only probably to help clean up after, ewwww! But, if it is like where I work now, the people in charge usually let me have leftovers from important get togethers or just feed me scraps under the table.  Hmmmm, what else?  Perhaps an Illuminati fail could be accidentally revealing global depopulation agendas on "Ellen", "Fallon", or "Live: with Kelly and Michael!" 

Pewdiepie would be the host.


Friday, July 31, 2015

Post Title

This post is so ahead of now, even the title is beyond itself. 

I am able to predict the future. I'm here to tell you that it will happen, folks. 

Two rabbits enter a hole in the ground. One finds itself on a stage in Atlantic City, the other one is transported to a child's birthday party in Kansas. Meanwhile, the dog chasing the two rabbits is left very confused and disappoints its master. A poor rural family goes without food that night. This is only part of the destructive ripple effect of magic tricks. 

Waldo was found dead in his apartment. 

I have often wondered where all the left socks go. I'm thinking it has something to do with the "Rapture". 

Sticks and stones may break my bones. It's in the bible. 

I once opened myself up to the universe. Now I can't come within 200 feet of the universe--damn restraining order. 

The apocalypse will happen soon, my friends. Question: What kind of wine goes with "We're all gonna die"? Answer: wine.

Question: How many roads must a man walk down before he gets to the center of a Tootsie Pop? Answer: LSD. 

 I met God once. God said hi, then I said hi back. God cleared his throat and we sat there for about a minute or two silent. God then said to me, "Great talk, son. Well, I gotta go. You be good now!" 

Nothing particularly special happens when Wonder Bread and Miracle Whip are combined. 

Nope, that wasn't it.

Nothing part ick you lard lee spesh ul hap hands wan bonder wed nad monocle blimp art connived.

Let's do that one over again. 

Noting particle spatial tappin is won thunder dead on spherical dip arrrr da mimed.

Phew! It's great to finally say that out loud. I hope you will understand.