Seriously- click for bigger. UNSUB - why?
GLYPHJOCKEY - KING O' THE WEB!
Did I mention?........ KING O' THE WEB!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Hey Dudley!
Friday, December 24, 2010
What Do I Want For Christmas?
A visit to the Bolex Universe
shooting expensive silent stock
with the best logo ever.
MERRY CHRISTMAS
shooting expensive silent stock
with the best logo ever.
MERRY CHRISTMAS
Saturday, December 04, 2010
Friday, December 03, 2010
plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose
From The Farmer's Daughter
This voice in American Cinema is gone. Who are today's Capras and Sturgeses? (And in this case H.C. Potter).
This voice in American Cinema is gone. Who are today's Capras and Sturgeses? (And in this case H.C. Potter).
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
An Amusing Exchange
I recently, being a rascal, made a half humorous comment at Huffington Post about something I really care nothing about- the fact that Daniel Radcliffe said that Emma Watson "kissed like an animal". The following exchange, ensued. (clik pic for big)
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
Satori for Some; Mini-Puke for Others
Max Bygraves performing a delightful tropical medley, weirdos.
Prince Buster promises to roll over in his grave once he croaks.
From the delightfully niche-y avec les poitrines Cosmobells
Friday, November 05, 2010
Happy Guy Fawkes
Light some fuses, Fawkers!
This robot puts on quite a show.
I remember watching a yob on the coal smoke fogged front garden of a Perth, Scotland row of homes firing off massive rockets on Guy Fawkes' Day. Exquisitely foolhardy and dangerous - the garden was the size of a postage stamp, with a one foot high fence. Across the street was a little girl in a beautiful frilly coat, like a china doll, screaming in tears - just abject terror at each blast, as I got closer, thinking she was locked out, her mother open the door and said, "Kylie! Wha' are ye standin' there? Come in th' hoose! Then she ran in.
The end.
This robot puts on quite a show.
I remember watching a yob on the coal smoke fogged front garden of a Perth, Scotland row of homes firing off massive rockets on Guy Fawkes' Day. Exquisitely foolhardy and dangerous - the garden was the size of a postage stamp, with a one foot high fence. Across the street was a little girl in a beautiful frilly coat, like a china doll, screaming in tears - just abject terror at each blast, as I got closer, thinking she was locked out, her mother open the door and said, "Kylie! Wha' are ye standin' there? Come in th' hoose! Then she ran in.
The end.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Placomusophilia
Back In 11/26/06 I posted my collection of Champagne muzzle caps at GlyphJockey then this week I was handed an article from Wine Spectator about a chap in good ol' New Jersey, John Sekora who has collected 7,000 different ones, many quite exquisite. Further investigation led me to other collectors, and I guess this is a whole thing.
I used to work in Gross Winery, (delicious name, no?) as a kid, and one day while bottling their sparkling wines, we had to taste the wine in the refrigerated bottling machine because it occasionally leaked hydraulic fluid. Possibly owing to never having had a college boy working with them, the tasting frequency got more liberal, and pretty soon the fellow who was in charge of putting in the corks, a former Nazi colonel, let me do it - he had never let anyone in 15 years. It was a deal where you took the cork just off the 90 degree mark and went whack WHACK! and voilà, the cork was in. The pink bubbly had its effect though, and after I sent a Mentos-and-Coke-worthy geyser skyward via a misstep with the mallet I was assigned back to the inflatable rubber foil hood crusher, a weird kind of job, where one put the foil capsule on the neck of the bottle, shoved the bottle into a rubber hole, and stepped on a pedal to inflate the rubber bladder, crushing the foil neatly. Mind numbing despite its allegorical appeal. Shortly after my reassignment (and continuing to "ckeck quality") we were all singing Hank Williams songs- and the owner of the winery came in and scattered the entire crew out to the fields.
But I digress- Go look at these, and enjoy - it is an old world elegance that takes such detail and pride for something that ends up in the trash cans of finer establishments.
I used to work in Gross Winery, (delicious name, no?) as a kid, and one day while bottling their sparkling wines, we had to taste the wine in the refrigerated bottling machine because it occasionally leaked hydraulic fluid. Possibly owing to never having had a college boy working with them, the tasting frequency got more liberal, and pretty soon the fellow who was in charge of putting in the corks, a former Nazi colonel, let me do it - he had never let anyone in 15 years. It was a deal where you took the cork just off the 90 degree mark and went whack WHACK! and voilà, the cork was in. The pink bubbly had its effect though, and after I sent a Mentos-and-Coke-worthy geyser skyward via a misstep with the mallet I was assigned back to the inflatable rubber foil hood crusher, a weird kind of job, where one put the foil capsule on the neck of the bottle, shoved the bottle into a rubber hole, and stepped on a pedal to inflate the rubber bladder, crushing the foil neatly. Mind numbing despite its allegorical appeal. Shortly after my reassignment (and continuing to "ckeck quality") we were all singing Hank Williams songs- and the owner of the winery came in and scattered the entire crew out to the fields.
But I digress- Go look at these, and enjoy - it is an old world elegance that takes such detail and pride for something that ends up in the trash cans of finer establishments.
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Not Gibberish
And all this time I thought it was...... The Cocteau Twins have a great series of their videos at their official site. Replete with Thompson Twins-y/Fun Boy Three-sy hair and pre-shoegazing shoegazing.
We'll be sold to Roddy
Comes for pearly dewdrop's drops
Weeks in our company
Buys the pearly dewdrop's drops
We'll be soaked and ruddy
Comes for pearly dewdrop's drops
Weeks in our company
Buys the pearly dewdrop's drops
We'll be soaked when Roddy comes
Rows of pearly dewdrop's drops
Tis the lucky lucky penny penny penny
Buys the pearly dew drips soaks
We'll be soaked when around he comes
Rows of pearly dewdrop's drops
Tis the lucky lucky penny penny penny
Buys the pearly dew drips soaks
Taciturn to fellow
So try to turn to loan him these
Bruised your eye on her staff
So when he turned around he saw
Taciturn to fellow
So try to turn to loan him these
Bruised your eye on her staff
So if we send the Roddy, soaks
We'll be soaked when Roddy comes
Rows of pearly dewdrop's drops
Tis the lucky lucky penny penny penny
Buys the pearly dew drips soaks
(We'll be sold to Roddy, sold to Roddy)
Rows of pearly dewdrop's drops
(We'll be sold to Roddy, sold to Roddy)
Tis the lucky lucky penny penny penny
Buys the pearly dew drips soaks
AND OCH AYE! THEY'RE BRAW WEE SCOTS LADS and LASS!
Comes for pearly dewdrop's drops
Weeks in our company
Buys the pearly dewdrop's drops
We'll be soaked and ruddy
Comes for pearly dewdrop's drops
Weeks in our company
Buys the pearly dewdrop's drops
We'll be soaked when Roddy comes
Rows of pearly dewdrop's drops
Tis the lucky lucky penny penny penny
Buys the pearly dew drips soaks
We'll be soaked when around he comes
Rows of pearly dewdrop's drops
Tis the lucky lucky penny penny penny
Buys the pearly dew drips soaks
Taciturn to fellow
So try to turn to loan him these
Bruised your eye on her staff
So when he turned around he saw
Taciturn to fellow
So try to turn to loan him these
Bruised your eye on her staff
So if we send the Roddy, soaks
We'll be soaked when Roddy comes
Rows of pearly dewdrop's drops
Tis the lucky lucky penny penny penny
Buys the pearly dew drips soaks
(We'll be sold to Roddy, sold to Roddy)
Rows of pearly dewdrop's drops
(We'll be sold to Roddy, sold to Roddy)
Tis the lucky lucky penny penny penny
Buys the pearly dew drips soaks
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Mèngyǎn
I dreamt that I had live versions of these either in my bed or on the seat next to me along with a bunch of other wriggly vertebrate/invertebrate creatures. No actual silverfish, per se but certainly a sloppy loose amalgam of translucent wormy immature live seafoody bits.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Pussy n' Banana
By comparison, my cat almost puked on my head in bed this morning.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
The Snake.
A comedy about a guy who joins a body image help group under false pretenses to pursue a bulimic girl after his buddies tell him a normal sized girl he was hitting on was too fat. Dark, funny douchery; the character exploits the bulimia, but the film does not. All the nobodies in it perform their asses off.
Thursday, October 07, 2010
Dig In!
Sheer marketing genius, all those hoses, reminiscent of delicious sausage.
I can't help thinking though, that if this was in Hindi, Tony Bourdain'd be sucking them down.....
I gotta assume that the 10% ethanol adds flavor, or get you drunk while you eat 'em...
Sunday, October 03, 2010
New Millenium Tattoo Zeitgeist
I saw this gent and as he turned his head, I said "Is that a Marlboro pack on the back of your head?!?!?!"
He said "Sure is -look at this."
He then explained in one Zen line that I can't remember that we basically live in a world run by corporations and that he realized the best way to deal with it was to embrace it.
Then he said "Wanna see the 420?"
Then he said "Wanna see the 420?"
Saturday, October 02, 2010
Monty's Right Profile
I had a recent conversation with a successful professional, who had never heard of Montgomery Clift - I was nonplusssed, owing to her apparent high degree of intellect but I also realized that exposure was exposure, so I strongly recommended A Place In The Sun and From Here To Eternity
The most interesting thing about his relationship with Elizabeth Taylor, (they were best friends) was that she saved his life: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montgomery_Clift#Car_accident
I also told her about one of my favorite Clash songs, The Right Profile chronicling his tragic post-crash addiction and depression.
Say, where did I see this guy?
In Red River?
Or a place in the sun?
Maybe the Misfits?
Or From Here to Eternity?
Everybody say, "Is he all right?"
And everybody say, "What's he like?"
Everybody say, "He sure look funny."
That's...Montgomery Clift, honey!
New York, New York, New York, 42nd Street
Hustlers rustle and pimps pimp the beat
Monty Clift is recognized at dawn
He ain't got no shoes and his clothes are torn
I see a car smashed at night
Cut the applause and dim the light
Monty's face is broken on a wheel
Is he alive? Can he still feel?
Nembutol numbs it all
But I prefer alcohol
He said go out and get me my old movie stills
Go out and get me another roll of pills
There I go again shaking, but I ain't got the chills
ARRRGHHHGORRA BUH BHUH DO ARRRRGGGGHHHHNNNN!!!!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Selling
Oh jheezus please somebody gimme a job that doesn't involve this.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Eye Bus
Labels:
british,
British Comedy,
buses,
comedy,
England,
English,
India,
Jim Woodring,
uk,
Will Hay
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
UK Humor (Humour) Fest at archive.org
Arthur Askey |
Will Hay |
Will Hay in Windbag the Sailor
Arthur Askey in Back Room Boy
Will Hay in Convict 99
Arthur Askey in Bees in Paradise
Arthur Askey in Ghost Train
I'd prattle on about their history and careers, but resources for that will hopefully be evident through the links provided. Instead just enjoy the comedy, IMHO underappreciated in their own country. We tend to rhapsodize about the Marx Brothers and W.C Fields, but Hay and Askey (along with Formby and others)were providing top notch comedy for the era that just never made it over here. Well, now, over here is the world.
Monday, September 06, 2010
BIG BUDDHA TATTOO, FULLERTON
I got this tattoo centuries ago, done by my presumably outlaw biker buddy Jack, also known as Boneshaker. An all around talented guy, but things being what they were in those days, and his at-the-time amateur status, it didn't really have stayin' power.
Two funny things, though:
I was on, like, a second date with a girl and I told her I got it for her as a goof - she was not hip to my mirth and became instantly concerned that "it was too soon", which in turn colored my attitude toward the dumb broad. Permanently.
Two days later I went to my sister's and went swimming. As I was about to hit the water in a perfect dive, I heard my mother scream WHAT the HELL is THAT?!?!?!? Had to surface eventually, but at least she ultimately was able to deal.
So, as you can see, it has faded, possibly has some anatomy associated balance issues, And my wife's name (which was added on our 5th anniversary) is barely readable (I shoulda walked out the second I saw that he dotted the "I" in her name with a heart.) My old signature above the heart (it bears no resemblance to that now) actually cashed me a check once.
I had stopped in two or three parlors in the past to see why this fading happened and what could be done about it. The first two in Ingnoramusadelphia, PA shithole of the universe/birthplace of the US, where firstly some oaf that wouldn't be happy unless he was piercing an ampallang with automotive tools (sorry asshole, I don't want to stab anyone this week, keep working on that scowl) and secondly, a parlor run by a group of ladies who maybe should have invested in a "NO MEN" sign. Who knew? It wasn't like it was called "Amazon Man Death Society" or anything, but it was evident that because I had an "outie" (or front tail, if you will) I was not welcome. If I'm over interpreting, perhaps it was their clipped angry responses to questions while having clenched fists that confused me.
But as I was waiting to get in to see a band in a fake punk craphole in Fullerton run by people who make East Coasters look like Eloi, I took a walk and ended up in Big Buddha Tattoo parlor where I had an in depth philosophical discussion of the merits of treating my blasted little scar as an artifact of a time gone by where if the tattoo needle wasn't touching bone ya weren't doing it right. They also told me that the technique of using a "pork chop", a piece of clear plastic with the design scratched in it in reverse, then filled with activated charcoal dust and applied to the anatomy, had only gone out of use a few years back. They then told me I could just email them my concept and they'd do it.
The angry robot maybe?
They showed me 15 year old tattoos that looked like they had been done yesterday, and told me that while they could both repair and obscure the tattoo that I should hold it in esteem because it was old and had a story. I've got clients in Fullerton and hopefully Huntington Beach, soon, and told them that I'd be back to do something.
The guy on the left below is Sam Ngo. If he will allow me to jest, next time I'm there, I'm gonna get up n'go and see him.
Two funny things, though:
I was on, like, a second date with a girl and I told her I got it for her as a goof - she was not hip to my mirth and became instantly concerned that "it was too soon", which in turn colored my attitude toward the dumb broad. Permanently.
Two days later I went to my sister's and went swimming. As I was about to hit the water in a perfect dive, I heard my mother scream WHAT the HELL is THAT?!?!?!? Had to surface eventually, but at least she ultimately was able to deal.
So, as you can see, it has faded, possibly has some anatomy associated balance issues, And my wife's name (which was added on our 5th anniversary) is barely readable (I shoulda walked out the second I saw that he dotted the "I" in her name with a heart.) My old signature above the heart (it bears no resemblance to that now) actually cashed me a check once.
I had stopped in two or three parlors in the past to see why this fading happened and what could be done about it. The first two in Ingnoramusadelphia, PA shithole of the universe/birthplace of the US, where firstly some oaf that wouldn't be happy unless he was piercing an ampallang with automotive tools (sorry asshole, I don't want to stab anyone this week, keep working on that scowl) and secondly, a parlor run by a group of ladies who maybe should have invested in a "NO MEN" sign. Who knew? It wasn't like it was called "Amazon Man Death Society" or anything, but it was evident that because I had an "outie" (or front tail, if you will) I was not welcome. If I'm over interpreting, perhaps it was their clipped angry responses to questions while having clenched fists that confused me.
But as I was waiting to get in to see a band in a fake punk craphole in Fullerton run by people who make East Coasters look like Eloi, I took a walk and ended up in Big Buddha Tattoo parlor where I had an in depth philosophical discussion of the merits of treating my blasted little scar as an artifact of a time gone by where if the tattoo needle wasn't touching bone ya weren't doing it right. They also told me that the technique of using a "pork chop", a piece of clear plastic with the design scratched in it in reverse, then filled with activated charcoal dust and applied to the anatomy, had only gone out of use a few years back. They then told me I could just email them my concept and they'd do it.
The angry robot maybe?
They showed me 15 year old tattoos that looked like they had been done yesterday, and told me that while they could both repair and obscure the tattoo that I should hold it in esteem because it was old and had a story. I've got clients in Fullerton and hopefully Huntington Beach, soon, and told them that I'd be back to do something.
The guy on the left below is Sam Ngo. If he will allow me to jest, next time I'm there, I'm gonna get up n'go and see him.
Sunday, September 05, 2010
Thursday, September 02, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
I Think It's The Ass-Slapping That Got To Me
.....not that I'm into that sort of thing actually. Vitameatavegamin this ain't. Vita, yes. Meata, yes. But vegamin, no. Quite the seductive babe, one might say. This was long before she got that only occasionally appearing weird Charles Gibson brow, and way, way before getting all moved by the chickdudeish Wayne Newton and befuddled by Burton and Taylor on Here's Lucy or The Lucy Show.
Labels:
1940,
40's,
classic film,
dance,
dancing,
glyphjockey,
hawaiian,
hula,
lex10,
Lucille Ball,
Lucy
Monday, July 26, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
JESTS
My wife and I haven't spoken for 3 months.
I didn't want to interrupt her.
I've been in love with the same woman for 26 years. If my wife every finds out, she'll kill me!
My wife and I have the secret to making a marriage last. Two times a week, we go to a nice restaurant, a little wine, good food. She goes Tuesdays, I go Fridays.
I take my wife everywhere, but she keeps finding her way back.
She has an electric blender, electric toaster, electric bread maker. Then she said, "There are too many gadgets, and no place to sit down! So what did I do? Bought her an electric chair.
My wife and I went back to the hotel where we spent our wedding night. Only this time, I stayed in the bathroom and cried.
My wife and I went to a hotel where we got a waterbed. My wife called it the Dead Sea.
My wife is on a new diet. Coconuts and bananas. She hasn't lost weight, but can she climb a tree!
She was at the beauty shop for two hours. That was only for the estimate.
She got a mudpack and looked great for two days. Then the mud fell off.
She ran after the garbage truck, yelling, "Am I too late for the garbage?" They said, "No, jump in!"
Three weeks ago, she learned how to drive. Last week she learned how to aim it.
I came home, the car was in the dining room. "How did you get the car in here?" "Easy, I took a left at the kitchen."
My wife told me the car wasn't running well, there was water in the carburetor. I asked where the car was, and she told me it was in the lake.
Saturday, July 03, 2010
U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!
I was on my way back from Eastern Ohio through Pennsylvania and just HAD to stop in at one or two of the many you-can-buy-fireworks-if-you're-not-from-here-so-you-can-burn-your-own-state-down fireworks stores and saw that the design standards had, erm, evolved somewhat capturing the zeitgeist with a 12"x12" cube of 36 shots or so of full color pyrotechnic chaos. Apologies for the shite pix - I'm waiting for my Droid......
Friday, July 02, 2010
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
Saw One for the first Time In My Life
altimore Oriole a female. Shining in the sun. The best part was I beckoned it into my proximity by imitating its call. Yay.
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