Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Johnny Rumble:
What Was

I should have started doing this years before, and I'm only wishing I had the means to still do it, if only for the photo-a-day thing showing a transformation over a set period of time.  Videos of stills years in the making.

People always say that we'll look back on our lives and remember what we did and who we were and laugh till we cry about how stupid, dumb and thoughtless we were.  That's why I like home-movies.  It's a voyeuristic kind of thing, a time-travel machine, able to see in the past, to look at how stupid, dumb and thoughtless we were.

Able to look back and see the children that was growing the adult that is.

Most people have thier first christmas, first steps, first whatever on video.  Instead, I have this...



Because it really, really, really sucks! Hello my name is,

Johnny Rumble

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Johnny Rumble:
Dori Dori


Three Sixteenths drill bit: begged and borrowed

Zip ties: One dollar for fifty pack

Adding some JDM style to your broke and ass-stock USDM car: Fuckin' Priceless,

Johnny Rumble

Monday, March 21, 2011

Johnny Rumble:
, The Broken Man

I keep thinking about my lack of employment and how it is affecting my family and home life, which is to say, not that much to significantly.  I'm able to keep the house clean, get all those damn projects that have been piling up in the corner done and over with, and have a meal ready for the "real" bread-winner of the house, my wife girlfriend wife fiance (it's an on going argument).  I am enjoying the home life, the quaintness of it, doing things on a schedule that's fairly relaxed and un-jarring.

But I feel like a fucking failure when I look in the mirror.

IT'S ME, THE MAN, WHO SHOULD BE BRINGING HOME THE PAY-CHECK.  ME, THE MAN, WHO SHOULD PAY THE BILLS, BALANCE THE CHECK BOOK.  ME, THE MAN, DOING MAN-LY THINGS, THINKING MAN-LY THOUGHTS, EATING MAN-LY STEAKS, RARE AND BLOODY.

Instead, it's me, the man, who cleans the kitchen, cooks dinner, does the laundry, feeds the cat, and vaccums the house.  It's me, the man, who eats a rosemary herbed chicken breast, corn-off-the-cob, and a salad with no croutons cause they have calories, and raspberry vinagrette dressing, because that's what Rachel Ray suggested.

I'm a broken man that doesn't deserve his penis.

At least, that is, until I crawl under the car,

Johnny Rumble

Friday, March 18, 2011

Trav: Another Poem:

Yo ok so I miscopied the second one, that is about a night of drinking and talking with a friend, the one about Poppa, is here:

COLD:

Biting cold and frozen ground

The windchill cuts

as it erases images from my head.

I'm left alone with my dreams

I wander amongst thoughts,

Imagining impossibilities.


Trav

Trav: Poems

Yo all what up? So poetry class is going well, got some output for you, here's the first batch, thoughts and opinions? The first is about my state of mind, I mean that I always seem to be paralyzed by fear, the fear of fucking up or that I'm not good enough somehow. The second was written when I'd heard my granddad had fallen outside for several hours and broke his ankle on the ice. thinking about how cold it must have been, well I don't know if I'd have not like frozen to death, or something worse.


Impossibilities:

I'm afraid of failing

to answer the question.

So I'll never move

Frozen in fear by my own reflection

These mistakes,

Hold me in place.

As the fog thickens

Across memories

Of what never was:

A faded map points

To the future

That's hidden away

A land far off, newly discovered

Plagued by doubt

And carrying the uncertainty

Of lies told in the mind's isolation

By a broken mirror.

We don't start for fear

Fear of losing our way

Trepidation grips

Grasping at minds amongst this cold

Shivering hands have lost the directions

Leaving us biting cold and frozen ground

Soundless the windchill cuts

And with malice it erases

Images from my head.

I'm left alone with my dreams

I wander amongst thoughts,

Imagining impossibilities.


Storm:

A calm before the storm.

Long talks over ales:

Free flowing opinions

The state of the union

The Recycled Air

Of the apathetic generation


Trav

Sunday, March 06, 2011

Johnny Rumble:
Every Day Is Sunday

...when you're unemployed.  So what's the first thing I do the day after I leave my Oil Change job?  I clean my electronic paperweight of a PC and re-create partitions on my drives that I've been meaning to do for the past three years.  I gained one hundred-and-seventeen extra gigs of storage space on D:.  I cleaned the drives, blew out the dust, scrubbed the software, killed the crawlers and polished the blue glowing turd back to some sort of crippled life.  It's out of the ICU and into General.

I'm geeking out of my skull right now, remembering all the porgramming and editing I did to this machine.  Remembering the menus and menus and sub-menus of Windows XP, navigating around, reducing the Page File from four to one gigabite and shoving it kicking and screaming on to the new partition.

I slapped a go-fast sticker from AMS Oil on to the chassis, hoping for that fabled "sticker-horsepower" effect.

I've forgotten what it's like to maintain computers and tempremental servers.  Thier like small children, constantly screaming in the long metal tube known as the coach section of your favorite local airliner while it climbs from sea level to thirty-thousand feet.  And magically, they stop, for one small moment, life is good.

Then XP pisses all over your shoes,

Johnny Rumble

Friday, March 04, 2011

Johnny Rumble:
Buying New (to you) Cars

The next time I anybody asks me what would be a good used or new car to get, I'm going to tell them this,
"With a James Bond accent say, "[Wife name] Darling, shall we take the [car name] tonight?"  Think about this.

For examples,
"Alicia darling, shall we take the Interceptor tonight?"
"Nikki darling, shall we take the Challenger tonight?"
"Tori darling, shall we take the Marauder tonight?"

What did happen to all the good names cars used to come with?  Interceptor, Zephyr, Galaxie.  Now it's all alphabet soup.  The MKX, SL500, TL.  None of these car evoke a sence of wonderment, of occasion, of legend.  They just plain don't sound good.

"Kathy darling, shall we take the S65 tonight?"

The woody that I was shaking in my hand thinking about an Interceptor just went away.  Alphanumerics simply arn't sexy.  Bring back real names, names and invoke something and say what the car is about.  And this is also why I'm recommending cars by thier name now, so that when people say what car they own...

"Hey Buck, what are you driving nowadays?"
"A Challenger."

...people stop and think for a moment.  It's not just a new Dodge.  It's a Challenger.  And that means something.

Love,

Johnny Rumble