Laughing at my nightmares...

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Hello,

You've stumbled upon my old site.  I don't post much here anymore.  If you like what you see here and want to see more head on over to daveskull.com to see my new blog and all of it's amazo-awesomeness.

Thanks!

dAVE

daveskull.com

What I think about Twitter

Let me just say right off the bat that I love Twitter. I think it's great. Heck, I capitalize it in a sentence for the love of pete. It is an awesome site. I have been using it since 2007 now. I'm @attksthedrknss on there in case you didn't know. I used to post to it from my Motorola Razor via text messages all the time. It was great. Then a little over a year and a half ago I got an iPhone and it has been an even better experience. I'm sure I don't have to explain how an iPhone has a much better Internet experience than a Motorola Razor. Now, I use Twitter for all kinds of things: talking to my friends, news, keeping up to date on my favorite musicians and comedians, and a healthy level of general silliness. I found out about Michael Jackson and Brittany Murphy dying through Twitter. It is amazing proof of how fast information can spread through the Internet, how connected we all can be, and how small the Earth can feel. Of course, this happens mostly only in first world nations, but I won't go into that in this post. I check Twitter all the time and try to post to it as much as I can. It is a favorite past time of mine. But, I have to say that I fear what Twitter might become. I am well aware that nothing lasts forever, especially on the Internet. Everything changes and has its moment in the sun. Does everyone remember when MySpace was the biggest, coolest, most super awesome thing? Now, we're all celebrating deleting our MySpace profiles in our Facebook status. I hope this never happens to Twitter, but it may already be beginning. I can see the signs. I'm all for more users and the popularity of the site growing, but I just don't want spam tweets about teeth whitening and followers with user names that consist of only consonants and numbers. We need to stay vigilant; report spammers and fake profiles so that we can keep the quality and integrity of the site. Which brings me to my next point. I am all for freedom of speech and people's right to choose what ever they talk about online. But, let's try to hold ourselves to a certain quality level with our posts. Why is Tiger Woods still a trending topic? Do that many of us still care what vagina he inserts his penis into? Is it that important? I can understand how a topic like that or when Michael Jackson died can trend for a day, but do we still need to be talking about it? He was married and banged nineteen other chicks. It's his mistake, let's move on people. I'm not really sure where this post is going. It's just a rant I'm writing on the bus and it's almost my stop. My point is that I love Twitter and want to keep it awesome. Let's have fun. Let's be silly. I don't give a shit about who Lindsey Lohan banged. Thank you.

negative negative

I was looking up stuff on Google images and started thinking about how creepy can I make some images look if I just invert them and, basically, turn them into negatives.  I think you will agree that the results are pretty creepy.

This first one turned into a portrait of Hunter S. Thompson and what the world must have looked like to him.

Here we have Stephen King’s little brother Larry who must have been a huge source of inspiration and fear driven madness.

 

Thirdly, we get the lost final page of the Book of Revelations where we find out the Easter Bunny isn't real.

 
 

Important contemplations...

 

Dragonslayer?

 

Have you ever looked in the mirror and asked yourself, Do I like unicorns or do I LOVE unicorns? Maybe it’s time you did. If you don’t then one day you might wake up and realize that you are one fruit salad short of sealing the deal on that web-based timeshare in Florida you are 81% sure is not swampland. When I wake up I am already asking myself these kinds of things. I don’t waste any time. I am all questions, all the time. Or maybe it’s more like 43% VHS and 57% DVD. With 14% of said DVD’s being rented that I am never returning, duh.
If I had to look back on my life and ask myself if I liked papaya or do I prefer to pay sales tax? I would most definitely say that I wish I lived in an era where space travel was commonplace and the laser rifles looked like tommy gun replicas and everyone ended every sentence with “space” no matter what they were saying... space.
All I’m saying is that maybe you should find yourself? Not the self you use a TomTom to “navigate” to an overcrowded tourist trap made in the long ago era of 1922! But, rather the self that eats cream cheese straight from the can while watching Scrubs because you just don’t give a shit about watching your weight anymore and you deserve it after such a long, hard day at work. The self that says yes to Pauly Shore and no to hanging laundry out to dry next to a wheat field on a warm summer day.
If i had to choose, I would totally go with what’s in the box every time.

The Robo-Teddy 6009!!!

Do you ever get jealous of the toys kids get to play with these days? Sometimes I look back at what I got to play with and to be honest I’m a little jealous. Not that I am ungrateful for what I did have. Lord knows I adored my G.I. Joe, Ninja Turtels, and He-Man toys. It just seems like some of the stuff kids are playing with today makes me feel like I was in the stone age of toys and they get to live in the 24th and a half century. Thankfully I had my imagination to get me through my playing. Hell, I’m probably much better off.

 

The wave of the new future

Imagine a world where no one worries about food because we are fed over a vast wireless nutrient network that covers the globe, except France.  

Imagine a world where every fifteen minutes twelve people find five dollars on the ground.  

Imagine a world where there is peace and prosperity, not because it’s profitable, but because we were told by an intergalactic group of aliens to change our ways or face total annihilation.  

Imagine a world where legless dogs float everywhere thanks to our mastery of gravity.  Imagine a world where glass isn’t an endangered species, it’s a way of life.  

Imagine a world where we finally realized that the moon’s control over the tides was causing massive flooding and draught, so we blew it up with nukes and things haven’t been better since.  

Imagine a world where we clone people like John Lennon and Adolf Hitler just to lock them in a room and see if they get along.  

Imagine a world where commercials are broadcast on the inside of our eyelids and everybody really hates the guy who’s idea that was.

The wave of the new future

Imagine a world where sunglasses are made from the sun

Imagine a world imagination is no longer needed since we’ve thought of everything

Imagine a world where glue sniffing is a sport.

Imagine a world email is the new snail mail and telepathy is the new email.

Imagine a world where music is only recorded underwater by fish.

Imagine a world where dance parties are thrown up in the clouds on floors made of titanium.

Imagine a world where keychains are currency

Imagine a world where fire trucks are powered by the fires they put out.

Imagine a world where restaurants serve food that glows and it’s supposed to be that way.

Imagine a world where even thumb tacks use lasers.

The wave of the new future

The wave of the new future

The wave of the new future

Analogous ventures...

Penguins fight zombies

Zombies fight penguins

Zombies bite penguins

Penguins become zombies

ZOMBIE PENGUINS!!!

Dairy farmers fight zombies

Zombies fight dairy farmers

Zombies bite dairy farmers

Dairy farmers become zombies

ZOMBIE DAIRY FARMERS!!!

Hipsters fight zombies

Zombies fight hipsters

Zombies bite hipsters

Hipsters become zombies

ZOMBIE HIPSTERS!!!

 

 

My Face...

I think out loud with my face.  You see, inside my head I am constantly talking to myself.  Sometimes it is about whatever it is that I am currently doing.  Sometimes it is about how it would be sweet if I had rockets in my shoes or if birds could come and pick me up and fly me to where ever I needed to go.  Other times it is about how the guy in front of me in the line at Target totally smells like weed and everyone knows and is talking about it, but he is so stoned that he has no idea everyone knows that he is stoned out of his mind.  Sometimes I think about bunnies.  You get the picture.  The one thing that is a constant amongst all of these thoughts is the fact that my inner monologue is playing itself out on my face and everyone can see and I have no idea until I see someone staring at me with that look on their face that says “what the fuck is wrong with that guy?”  It happens a lot.  I get lost in a train of thought and I have no idea that I am totally talking to myself without speaking a single word.  There I am mouthing out the thoughts that are spewing forth from my brain.  As a note, I think it is a rather odd analogy to say “lost in a train of thought.”  A train can’t get lost.  They are on tracks.  They can’t really get “off course.”  But, I digress.  Hopefully you understand.  

So, this whole “thinking out loud on my face” thing, as I like to call it, tends to happen when I am alone mostly or when I think I am alone.  I get lost in the thought and I am off into the little world that it lives in.  I could be thinking about being a dragon and how it would be awesome to breathe fire on a village of matchstick people.  Or I could be thinking about racing a car in a race against time to save the women I love from certain doom.  I just thought about what it would be like to be an aerobics instructor.  I even put on a head band to make it more appropriate.

See:

This kind of stuff happens a lot.  So, don’t worry if you see me with an odd look to my face, it is probably just me thinking about what it would be like to paint the sky with polka dots or meet the pope and it turns out he wears skinny jeans under the robe and keeps weed in his big tall hat.  It is all perfectly normal, at least for me.

Some faces you may see from time to time:

                     The I may have solved the mystery face:

The what if Thomas Edison fought Captain Kirk face:

The what if my tie were a snake face:

The Ooh! This penny is from 1955 face:

 

The did anyone hear me fart, man cold fusion would be schweet face:

 

And last, but not least The I ate the magic pizza face:

 

You can imagine what it must be like for total strangers who walk in to my place of work and find me standing there staring off into the distance or at the wall with one of those looks on me.  The shock and embarrassed horror is similar to that of anyone who has walked in on somebody masturbating.  You know they do it.  You just don’t want to see it.

Heralding the the rise of Artaxerxes...

 "Former Theremin player for Steve Miller Band, the son of a coal miner and a french person impersonator, Artaxerxes grew up like any other kid.  Constantly listening to music to get away form the unending screaming of his parents about all of the obvious reasons they should have never married and brought their useless children into this world.  Since the age of three Artaxerxes has played music.  Starting out imitating the sounds he was hearing and eventually moving on to writing his own music.  Artaxerxes wrote his first song at the age of six.  He began seriously studying music at the age of ten from a man who saw him singing and banging out rhythms in the grocery store one day while out with his mother.  By the time he was through junior high Artaxerxes had been in several bands.  He dropped out of high school to pursue his musical career.  He moved out to LA like everybody else does and will do to start their music career.  He played in clubs and cafes and anywhere else that would let him.  Unfortunately he never played for more than a few minutes because Artaxerxes's music has and forever will be above the minds of the mere the mortal idiots that frequent this world.  But, one night all of the effort and hard work paid off.  After a set at a local cafe Artaxerxes was approached by a man who introduced himself as Maurice.  He told Artaxerxes that he was starting a band and that he thought he would be perfect for it.  The two of them started writing songs together and soon began touring.   Immediately they were loved and adored by all.  But, what they were missing was the perfect name.  Maurice wanted to call the band The Gangsters' of Love or Maurice and the Space Cowboys, but Artaxerxes knew better.  Eventually they struck a compromise with Steve Miller Band.  Artaxerxes got it from the fact that his uncle always told him that would be a great name for a band.  The name is plain and inoffensive plus it says band in it so there is no confusion as to what the group does.  Over time they grew to critical acclaim and just when it seemed as if it couldn't get any better god came along and ripped everything away from Artaxerxes that he loved.  Which is pretty much himself and his music.  It was the strangest accident the doctors had ever heard of and how he survived it and continues to survive after it baffles even the greatest of medical minds.  One day that not even Artaxerxes can fully recall he was walking down the street and a pigeon landed on a piano that was being moved up to the second floor of an apartment when suddenly the rope holding it up snapped and the piano came crashing down from the sky and landed on the sidewalk hurting absolutely no one. Then suddenly a mad man who thought he was Christopher Walken, and very well could have been, came out from behind a small truck and cut off Artaxerxes's head.  What exactly, if anything, these two events have to do with each other is still being discussed by some of the greatest philosophical minds in the world today.  Since they are the only who really care and have enough time on their hands to waste discussing it.  He was rushed to the hospital where his body was immediately thrown into the incinerator due to a clerical error and the doctors just had to sew up the bottom of his neck and hope for the best.  Artaxerxes awoke to find his only friend Maurice standing over him.  The doctors rushed in and began to try to figure out what the hell just happened.  After hearing the news Artaxerxes begged to be put out of his misery, but no one dared touch him for fear of bringing about the apocalypse.  He was brought home by his friend Maurice where they had a long talk about Artaxerxes's future with the band and they both realized it would be very hard to play the Theremin without any arms, matter of fact without any body whatsoever, since you kind of need to stand behind it and waves your arms around a lot, occasionally screaming out quotes from a farmer's almanac.  The latter isn't exactly necessary to playing the instrument and didn't actually end up on any of the bands records, but it adds to the performance in a live setting.  So, that night they parted ways.  Over time Artaxerxes and Maurice grew apart and stopped contacting each other all together.  Eventually Artaxerxes turned to drugs to sooth his problems and he fell into a deep dark pit of despair.  But now after a long arduous journey back from the worse place Artaxerxes has been in his life, Salt Lake City Utah, he is back.  With the advent of digital technology Artaxerxes is able to make music again and he doesn't even have to try that hard anymore.  He has a new found genius that is simply pouring from his brain.  Of course it is still hard to operate a computer with no body, but you would be surprised what can be done with a nose and some perseverance.  The point is that Artaxerxes is back and is ready to bring to the world what it so obviously needs and secretly desires.  The face of music is about to change forever."

-Rolling Stone Magazine, 1983, page 84