”Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull...” goes my alarm clock, not the alarm but the clock itself.
Obviously it really REALLY doesn’t say “Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull” but since I’ve been lying on my bed for two hours straight now and still haven’t fallen asleep, my brain sort of picked up something to do and what’s better than to create a new non-existing sound to the alarm clock?! I couldn’t think of anything...so this must be THEE best idea so far in the history of mankind!
I know! I’ll start manufacturing “Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull”-alarm clocks on an industrial scale and sell them to the people in the need of “Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull”-alarm clocks worldwide...I will make a lot of money and with that money I shall buy a 6-pack of beer to help me sleep better!
Wait, I already bought a 6-pack of beer today...and drank it too, hmmm, so I guess this “Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull”-alarm clock business idea has sort of closed its own circle.
But why be so negative! On with the thinking process dude!
Hmm...maybe I could become a charity-kind-of-a “Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull”-alarm clock maker and hand out “Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull”-alarm clocks to the poor people who are in a desperate need of a “Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull”-alarm clock but cannot afford one! But how will I buy the 6-pack with this strategy? Think! Think! THINK, MAN! This is your one shot to become the “Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull”-alarm-clock-making-GOD for the history to remember, the one who the fair maidens whisper of, the one who all the brave men speak respectfully about, the one who the children of tomorrow sing about in the schools that are all named after the one who invented the “Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull, Pit-Bull”-alarm clock!
“Zzzzz..."
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
The Exploding Pick-Up Truck
PT Loren
Waiting for a bus. I’m standing on the “safe side” of the sidewalk, about 20-30 centimeters from the window of this bar behind me and about two meters in front of me, on the “danger side” of the sidewalk, by the street, there is this dude smoking a cigarette. Looks like a ****-brand, I happen to have the eyesight of a hawk!
“Sure PT, just hold on to your contact lenses and WATCH that you don’t get your toes violated by the street maintenance pick-up truck approaching on the sidewalk from the left, that’s all you need to be concerned about! Besides, the guy has his back turned on you, can you tell the brand of his cigarette from the cloud of smoke or something?!”
“I can see the pack in his pocket, you d*ck!”
“What did you just say?! Who are you calling a d*ck!?”
“Well, you, you d*ck!!”
Wait a second, why am I calling myself a d*ck? Hmm...uhhh, here comes my bus! Saved by the bus:)! Damn, unfortunately it’s just “a” bus, not “the” bus, but I think it’s “the” bus for the guy in front of me since he accelerates “the” cigarette smoking.
The dude smoking a cigarette
Here comes my bus, hurray!
I take the one last puff from the cigarette and adjust my fingers for a Hollywood-style thumb/middle finger –toss. I make a cool upper body 180 turn and...hmmm, is that gas on the sidewalk?? The brain has no time to react, the command is still “Toss! Toss!”
PT Loren
It’s winter, but for one reason or another there is a window open on this bar behind me. It’s a rock music bar but weirdly enough, there is no rock music sounding from the inside, they probably have a jukebox that is just temporarily out of coins.
The pick-up truck just drove by about 3-4 seconds ago leaving me with a certain feeling of nostalgia since I too used to drive one of those street maintenance units for a living some years back.
...But NOT one leaking gas!
The dude smoking a cigarette
This is one of those very long seconds in life, I just tossed the cigarette and looks like it’s gonna go straight into the stream of gas!
The time sort of stops right there. *Cut!*.
And then starts moving again in slow motion. *Action!*
In this slow motion -motion, I can see my cigarette going for the kill, perfectly well knowing that there is not a god damn thing in this world that can stop it anymore!
PT Loren
The bus arrives->the guy in front of me takes one last puff from his cigarette, turns around and...
WOOSH!! The stream of gas instantly sets on fire and as the flames start eating their deadly way towards the leaking gas tank of the pick-up truck someone inside the bar inserts a coin into the jukebox and selects a heavy metal –song, a LOUD heavy metal –song! FIRE!! FIRE!!!
The two guys in the pick-up truck
“...Oh no you didn’t, man, no you didn’t!!? You just slaughtered them like that?” laughs out the guy in the passenger’s seat with his voice full of admiration.
“I sure did Johnson, I sure did! I gave it to them real good!” replies the driver with a big, happy smile on his face and continues “And afterwards I went to this other place to shoot some more...*Pool...hmmm, what are those people at the bus stop waving and shouting for...?* OUT OF THE CAR JOHNSON, OUT OF THE CAR RIGHT NOW!! THE ETERNAL DREAMS OF DYNAMITE, THE HELLOS OF HELLFIRE, THE TOKENS OF THUNDER AND THE DARTS OF DESTRUCTION ARE HEADING THIS WAY!!!”
And out they jumped, Johnson and the poet. In the nick of time. Boom.
Waiting for a bus. I’m standing on the “safe side” of the sidewalk, about 20-30 centimeters from the window of this bar behind me and about two meters in front of me, on the “danger side” of the sidewalk, by the street, there is this dude smoking a cigarette. Looks like a ****-brand, I happen to have the eyesight of a hawk!
“Sure PT, just hold on to your contact lenses and WATCH that you don’t get your toes violated by the street maintenance pick-up truck approaching on the sidewalk from the left, that’s all you need to be concerned about! Besides, the guy has his back turned on you, can you tell the brand of his cigarette from the cloud of smoke or something?!”
“I can see the pack in his pocket, you d*ck!”
“What did you just say?! Who are you calling a d*ck!?”
“Well, you, you d*ck!!”
Wait a second, why am I calling myself a d*ck? Hmm...uhhh, here comes my bus! Saved by the bus:)! Damn, unfortunately it’s just “a” bus, not “the” bus, but I think it’s “the” bus for the guy in front of me since he accelerates “the” cigarette smoking.
The dude smoking a cigarette
Here comes my bus, hurray!
I take the one last puff from the cigarette and adjust my fingers for a Hollywood-style thumb/middle finger –toss. I make a cool upper body 180 turn and...hmmm, is that gas on the sidewalk?? The brain has no time to react, the command is still “Toss! Toss!”
PT Loren
It’s winter, but for one reason or another there is a window open on this bar behind me. It’s a rock music bar but weirdly enough, there is no rock music sounding from the inside, they probably have a jukebox that is just temporarily out of coins.
The pick-up truck just drove by about 3-4 seconds ago leaving me with a certain feeling of nostalgia since I too used to drive one of those street maintenance units for a living some years back.
...But NOT one leaking gas!
The dude smoking a cigarette
This is one of those very long seconds in life, I just tossed the cigarette and looks like it’s gonna go straight into the stream of gas!
The time sort of stops right there. *Cut!*.
And then starts moving again in slow motion. *Action!*
In this slow motion -motion, I can see my cigarette going for the kill, perfectly well knowing that there is not a god damn thing in this world that can stop it anymore!
PT Loren
The bus arrives->the guy in front of me takes one last puff from his cigarette, turns around and...
WOOSH!! The stream of gas instantly sets on fire and as the flames start eating their deadly way towards the leaking gas tank of the pick-up truck someone inside the bar inserts a coin into the jukebox and selects a heavy metal –song, a LOUD heavy metal –song! FIRE!! FIRE!!!
The two guys in the pick-up truck
“...Oh no you didn’t, man, no you didn’t!!? You just slaughtered them like that?” laughs out the guy in the passenger’s seat with his voice full of admiration.
“I sure did Johnson, I sure did! I gave it to them real good!” replies the driver with a big, happy smile on his face and continues “And afterwards I went to this other place to shoot some more...*Pool...hmmm, what are those people at the bus stop waving and shouting for...?* OUT OF THE CAR JOHNSON, OUT OF THE CAR RIGHT NOW!! THE ETERNAL DREAMS OF DYNAMITE, THE HELLOS OF HELLFIRE, THE TOKENS OF THUNDER AND THE DARTS OF DESTRUCTION ARE HEADING THIS WAY!!!”
And out they jumped, Johnson and the poet. In the nick of time. Boom.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Designs by PT Loren: The Inside Story
Just the other week I was feeling a bit under the weather trying to come up with the solution to all the Problems of the World. Oh, what to do, WHAT, WHAT, WHAT?!
“I know! I’ll start making designs for t-shirts...and for things that are related to t-shirts, like mugs and bags. That ought to do it!”
So I started with the production.
And man! Much like with the “Owl Man Project”, this too was going just EXCELLENT...until I realized that I can’t bloody well draw worth a damn!
Ok, the Problems of the World: 1, PT: 0.
...But not so fast Problems of the World, I have another idea! “What if I’ll just glue some stuff on a sheet of paper...like pieces of cardboard...and better to use some duct tape too!” As a musician, I have learned that there is no such thing as too much duct tape...wait, an idea coming...“Now I got it! I’ll write something cute on the piece of cardboard with a black marker and then put the whole masterpiece into my Canon scanner!”
Alright, let’s go scanning, “I’m the Scan-Man!”
And the “Scan-Man” scanned, all-night-long, slept until it was dark again(since he was so tired after all that scanning), woke up and found a quite a lot of these sh*tty looking prints of cardboards with mysterious aphorisms and some duct tape on them lying on the floor.
Problems of the World: 2, PT the Scan-Man: 0.
At this point I was feeling slightly frustrated...and a bit-bit-BIT obsessed by the whole cardboard/duct tape/black ink...thing...*loose the cardboard*...”Hmmm, maybe it’s just that I’ve got too many elements here, hmmm...” *loose the cardboard* “But which one of these elements should I take out, the duct tape, the black ink or the...” *loose the CARDBOARD* “Man, this is a tough decis...” *LOOSE THE GOD DAMN CARDBOARD NOW!!!* “I know! What if I’ll just loose the cardboard and see how that would be!”
That would be AWESOME! Problems of the World: 2, PT: 1.
So, duct tape and black ink...one CANNOT go wrong with duct tape and black ink!! In your face Problems of the World, in your face man!!!
There is this bottle of soy on the kitchen table, the kitchen table by which I am making these final touches to this certain piece called “My Hardcore Mug” and...*Loose the cardbo...krhh, krhhh...cough...cough...sorry, I mean grab the bottle of soy, grab it now!*...and like a divine intervention, like the infinite finger of destiny tapping on my shoulder, like the echo of my own scream, like a blind man with a reflection of his past, like an earthquake in reverse I suddenly knew exactly what I gotta do.
2-2.
“I know! I’ll start making designs for t-shirts...and for things that are related to t-shirts, like mugs and bags. That ought to do it!”
So I started with the production.
And man! Much like with the “Owl Man Project”, this too was going just EXCELLENT...until I realized that I can’t bloody well draw worth a damn!
Ok, the Problems of the World: 1, PT: 0.
...But not so fast Problems of the World, I have another idea! “What if I’ll just glue some stuff on a sheet of paper...like pieces of cardboard...and better to use some duct tape too!” As a musician, I have learned that there is no such thing as too much duct tape...wait, an idea coming...“Now I got it! I’ll write something cute on the piece of cardboard with a black marker and then put the whole masterpiece into my Canon scanner!”
Alright, let’s go scanning, “I’m the Scan-Man!”
And the “Scan-Man” scanned, all-night-long, slept until it was dark again(since he was so tired after all that scanning), woke up and found a quite a lot of these sh*tty looking prints of cardboards with mysterious aphorisms and some duct tape on them lying on the floor.
Problems of the World: 2, PT the Scan-Man: 0.
At this point I was feeling slightly frustrated...and a bit-bit-BIT obsessed by the whole cardboard/duct tape/black ink...thing...*loose the cardboard*...”Hmmm, maybe it’s just that I’ve got too many elements here, hmmm...” *loose the cardboard* “But which one of these elements should I take out, the duct tape, the black ink or the...” *loose the CARDBOARD* “Man, this is a tough decis...” *LOOSE THE GOD DAMN CARDBOARD NOW!!!* “I know! What if I’ll just loose the cardboard and see how that would be!”
That would be AWESOME! Problems of the World: 2, PT: 1.
So, duct tape and black ink...one CANNOT go wrong with duct tape and black ink!! In your face Problems of the World, in your face man!!!
There is this bottle of soy on the kitchen table, the kitchen table by which I am making these final touches to this certain piece called “My Hardcore Mug” and...*Loose the cardbo...krhh, krhhh...cough...cough...sorry, I mean grab the bottle of soy, grab it now!*...and like a divine intervention, like the infinite finger of destiny tapping on my shoulder, like the echo of my own scream, like a blind man with a reflection of his past, like an earthquake in reverse I suddenly knew exactly what I gotta do.
2-2.
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