Spending a little quality time with my cute little granddaughter Piper, my dog Annie and of course, the cheese.
Spoken word I composed in Garageband about our over-caffeinated lives.
Animated description of how to create a bad resume with Photoshop.
My granddaughter takes us on a tour of the family refrigerator.
Prose about the pitfalls of Oppositional Personality Disorder from my nom de plume.
Kiosks and tour buses in the greatest American city.
Grandchildren do not like to be videotaped too much.
Confession of a cat eater. I ate your cat. It was delicious. Thanks for getting him fat. Got another?
Part 46 of a 50-part series on Amtrak passenger train travel across America as viewed by an east Texas amateur videographer going to Hollywood to be in a documentary. This episode: paving over orange groves outside Ontario. Music by rextangle and his mystery woman *******www.rextangle****/
More and more professional cinematographers and commercial graphics houses are entering the online video market to compete with amateurs for eyeballs. This is a how-to video for them.
For the flu season, I plan to place myself strategically in my bed. For the whole season. That's where I'll be. You'll see.
Music by blackturtle.us
Part 45 of a 50-part series on Amtrak passenger train travel across America as viewed by an east Texas amateur videographer going to Hollywood to be in a documentary. This episode: Palm Springs.
Music by rextangle
Living in a drafty old house with bad wiring in the walls, a cracked foundation, bad plumbing, no heat, leaky roof and no insulation is just a half step above homelessness, only with taxes. Somebody call Habitat for Humanity!
Part 44 of a 50-part series on Amtrak passenger train travel across America as viewed by an east Texas amateur videographer. This episode: wooleyboogers and whirlygigs in the desert.
Music by rextangle
Thirst in Shreveport, Louisiana. Experimental humor.
The South Texas Germ Warfare Standard Deviation
(Where CanI Get A Surrogate Brain?)
Biological Flu Blues
By Jolie Blond
I'd gotten to feeling sophisticated,
secure in myself,
and then I learned humility
when brought down
by a bug.
The bug has got a hold of me,
the doctors cannot kill it.
My brain won't work,
my nose won't stop,
my throat burns like
a cheap, worn skillet.
I tried my mom's herbology,
I starved and stuffed and pilled it.
When whiskey failed
to do its stuff,
I hot tub tried
to cook it out
as I had gotten to be,
I couldn't even defend myself
from this tiny viral flea.
So if you're feeling superior
to the day's circumstantial turns,
just remember all your best laid plans
can be altered by a germ.
A nonfiction tale of milk crate desire in a crack neighborhood.
A hobo poem about freightyard love and lust by Jolie Blond. That's me.