Brain Poops

It’d be nice to say that for the past two months I’ve been playing naked badminton in the Bahamas with every Playmate of the year since 1992, but sadly that just isn’t the case.

Instead I’ve moved down to Florida, got a job flipping dough at a local pizza place and generally wallowed about just how fucked up I allowed my finances to get. From what I see on the news, it’s nice to know I finally have something in common with the rest of America.

The move itself was a bite in the ass, spending 2 days and 15 hours on a Greyhound bus. I can’t properly describe the feeling of hopeless paranoia and general malaise from that trip… but I’ll give it a shot:

It was as if I was on family vacation to Los Angeles and got lost, only to be picked up by a cadre of ripe gypsies that forced me to pay $200 for the privilege of sitting near their festering, jabbering kin with rest stops at increments just long enough in between to start falling asleep without the satisfaction of a cat nap. (continue reading…)

Part 1: An American Nightmare

Before this starts, please know that I am, yet again, more than flat broke. I need your help to pick my stupid ass up again out of the financial grave I giggled myself into. Please consider a donation, because this silliness is just too much fun to be brought down by money. ¹

My story is pretty obvious to most people visiting this site, but for anyone happening by here are the cliff notes:
1.) I make tons of mistakes, because I like to learn the hard way. Gives me the stubbornness of an old man at the age of 23.
2.) I state the obvious mainly to find out if I’m the only red-assed baboon laughing at the world trying to “cover their assets”.
3.) I try to find the common denominator between many things in order to understand the whole for the sum of its parts.
4.) I really suck with money.

Let’s start with June of 2008: a magical time where the recession had already started it’s party, yet the whole world was still looking for the recipe to their famous “Oh fuck let’s all panic” artichoke dip. The air was artificially sweetened with Splenda-Fart dreams and the tap water was accidentally enhanced with prescription pollution residue.

I was working as an extra, meaning a metaphorical prostitute for sexually frustrated sadomasochistic cheapskates. I came, I saw, I fake-walked the walk and fake-talked the talk, leaving the sets sweaty and used up. My only regret is not bringing a dresser for them to leave cash on, as opposed to waiting 2-5 weeks for checks.

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OK, short story is I’m evicted because the City of Torrance has certain regulations about loft apartments in residential areas. I’m more than flat broke and everything is going tits up, so it seems like I’m headed back to Alabama.

I’m also on the verge of seeing my phone being shut off, and with the landlord disconnecting our end of the internet connection, my chances and means of communication are getting stranger by the minute. I’m doing my best to put this all down for some blog posts, but video is nix for a while.

This is real, and it is really hilarious to me, but for now I need to survive. Please donate if you can, because food and communication with the world is important.

The bitch of it all is I don’t even have a guaranteed means to log in and transfer ANY donations if anything arrives.

Don’t think that because some “internet celebrities” have cash to burn, everyone on that site is wiping their asses with iPhones. I’ll tell this story soon and well, but it’s hard to do this stuff with impending chaos.

Your truly Bohemian dancing baboon,
 Ben

So here, in all it’s wiggly 1.1mb glory is my first photomanipulation wallpaper. I made it for myself, because I loathe the “standard” format of icons on the left, blank space on the right.

I made this to remind me of the intense beauty and variety of the world, as well as the concept of time. No drugs, no alcohol, lotsa bullshit.

Click the images for Flickr pages and download

"Distracted", a photomanip wallpaper by boh3m3

 Click!

Ladies and gentlemen!

What you don’t want to hear me talk about or read me writing about is here for you to see in photo form instead.

I am internet rich.
Which means I earn jack shit.

Here’s hoping I find some way of earning money, since being a new homeless person in Los Angeles might be a tougher industry than the internet could ever be.

I received a message from Greg today, and in the interest of transparency, to aid Greg Solomon in learning the lesson he tries to teach me, and to get back at him a little¹

I am posting his message as well as my two responses here for your own enjoyment.

(NOTE! This crap is extremely long. Look in the footnotes for TLDRs)

Edit (20:35): NOW INTRODUCING TREVOOOOOOOOOOOOR!!!!! YAAAAY!

Click for Greg’s message and my responses

Hey guys! I think (Edit: Nevermind… it’s pretty obvious how I messed it up. I think I’m going to just find a new similar theme with less topheavy CSS that I can customize myself) I mangled the coding in trying to customize my theme, so I’m uninstalling it and re-installing it fresh so I don’t mess things up!

This is only temporary and the site should be back as soon as I finish tweaking the code (which is right now)

Thanks!

Edit:  In the mean-time, there’s a new post about Greg Solomon Drama! Honestly, don’t think I’ll waste any more time on the fellow… this was just a blast. I’ll do my best to keep from making it all I do, but trolling is fun… Just make sure you know it’s an act. I’m not taking this stuff seriously.

For those of you not in the know about the blogosphere (like myself), I thought I would inform you of this site’s new enabling of Gravatars.

A Gravatar is a globally recognized avatar binded to your email address, so that on whatever blog you visit (that uses Gravatars, of course) your uploaded avatar will be displayed wherever your email is used to comment.

It is a free service, recently bought out by Wordpress. If you would like to sign up for one, head to http://en.gravatar.com/ and go through the motions.

I’m off for a brandy.

Jeeprs, Mr B!

The Amercian economy is tanking faster than Mr. Belding in a room full of showgirls. Millions of jobs lost, banks getting the taxpayer’s money (yet again), and FDR is laughing sadly in his grave. I, being the upright and proactive citizen, decided to do nothing about it aside from make a video saying random crap as if I know the first thing about economics.

That Gol-durned Kid Rock Video

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