Hey folks! This is Colin, filling in for my boss, Damion, while he's on vacation. I asked him where he was going and he said, "Phuket". Then I said, "No Phuken way, man! You need a vacation. You should go."

"No dude, I'm going to Phuket!" said Damion.

"You can go Phuke yourself for all I care. Just get the hell out of here."

So, I still have no idea where he's at but Damion, if you're reading this, your fish tank is on fire.

Let's see what happened this month...

Damion lost our good football in a 40 foot palm tree. We were having a nice game of catch when suddenly he started ranting about John Elway and being able to throw a football over a mountain. The next thing we knew he lodged the ball in the top of tree. Thanks Damion.

Kenny was running an errand and forgot to put gas in his car. So we had to come rescue and laugh at him. Your car might get good mileage dude, but it can't run on fumes.

We hired a new designer, Lindsey. Before she worked here she was designing sticky notes, so I guess this is a step up for her. It's always weird hiring a new person because you're not really sure what they're like. They could be super religious, or politically biased, or from Colorado, and you don't want to offend anybody you have to work with everyday. I don't think I heard a single swear word uttered in the office the whole first week she was here. She seems alright though, so we should be back to our regular hijinks before long.

Heather went to the wedge to check out the waves, but didn't get in the water. This doesn't really surprise me though, seeing as how she's kinda high maintenance. She said they were like a million feet high or something, but I've seen bigger than that.

We got a new cleaner shrimp in the fish tank. It mostly just picks stuff off the rocks, but sometimes the shrimp will climb on the tang's face and eat the parasites out of his gils. Damion will stick his hand in there and it just goes crazy like it was a Thanksgiving feast.

Kenny moved into Jeff's apartment in Laguna Beach. Long Beach was just too ghetto for him. I always had my suspicions about those two but this takes the cake. They say I'm never allowed to come over.

Everyone's been real moody because of the rush to get everything done for Interbike. It makes Damion super paranoid, and I don't think he sleeps the whole month. He even called me on a Sunday afternoon asking me to come into work, and I was like, "No way, I'm at church!" And he said, "Your church sounds a lot like a bowling alley!"
"How dare you question my faith!" and I promptly hung up the phone. I didn't get any strikes after that. Thanks again Damion.

Luckily, we all got to go to Las Vegas which helped to break the tension. Of course, we had to lie to Damion and tell him the flight left an hour earlier than it really did so we wouldn't be late. In Vegas Heather insisted that we take a limo to our hotel, the Stratosphere, and the limo driver told us about all the gross stuff people would do on the seats we were sitting on. Steve and I shared a room that smelled like mildew. Heather and Lindsey's room smelled like fresh paint. Damion, Kenny and Jeff's room smelled like peppermint schnapps. We all ate dinner at Benihana and Damion was paying, so I got the most expensive steak and lobster combo. After dinner Jeff got the gambling bug and started peeling off Ben Franklins like it was Monopoly money. Steve, Kenny, and I went to the topless, vampire girls show, but Jeff got scared and didn't want to go. So he went on gambling and beat us all at our running bet of who would win the most money. I tried to con Damion and Jeff out of $5000 by telling them that we needed to bail Kenny out of jail at 4 a.m. but they didn't fall for it. So instead Kenny went back to their hotel room to keep them up all night with his snoring.

The next day we ate at the same crappy place that we do every year, but I was really hungry that morning. So I paid $15 for buffet and happily ate my breakfast while everyone else watched, waiting for their food. Our waitress was trying to serve us tequila shots at 10 a.m. but no one was going for it. Maybe she was already drunk and wanted to share the joy. The Interbike show was okay, I guess. I was a bit bummed that there was no free beer, but the guys over at Pivot and BH Bikes were pretty stoked on the catalogs we did for them. Damion tried to be tough guy and ring the bell at the SRAM booth and failed by a narrow margin (watch his shame on YouTube). I rode something called a Hula-bike which was like a BMX frame that you could bend in half. I thought it was kind of weird to ride, but the guy who made it said, "It's cool man! You just smoke yourself a fat bowl, hop on the Hula-bike and get crazy!" That sounded like a really good idea, but I didn't bring any weed to Vegas, and I don't think they allow smoking in the convention center.

So that's it for this month. I hope you enjoyed it because after Damion reads this I'll probably be fired. Next month: Damion's Phuken Vacation, How to Make a Pumpkin Pie, Drinking Brass Monkey = Bad Idea, and Mating Behaviors of Pygmy Hippos.

Keep watching the skies,

Colin

It was a slow but typical day in the life of a dancing chimpanzee. The cool, spring breeze bringing white, puffy clouds across the great, open sky. People walked hurriedly around our street corner, but few ever stopped and even fewer spared some change. Nevertheless, the organ grinder kept turning the crank and I continued my routine. It used to be a simple two-step and some shenanigans, but with times being so hard we've had to pad up our shtick with more modern influences. "Bobo!" the organ grinder called, "Da customers. Dey ah like fox en ah pig farm, ahnd da rooster es esleep." Another one of his habitual, malformed, eastern European metaphors meaning that the people were being cheap bastards. The worse off we were the wackier his phrases became, and the nature of my work would become even more humiliating.

"Is time to make a more funny." Because more funny equals more money. The greasy, unshaven pimple of a man stood up from the large, antique trunk that served as my wardrobe and his stool. The lid had an obvious double concave from spending hours under his absurdly large ass. He pried it open along the bent hinges and pulled out a sparkly, red blouse, tight lowrider jeans, and a blond, straight haired wig. It was the the greatest disgrace, the mother of all bombs. It was the Hannah Montana routine. I shrieked in protest (the best any ape could do), but the grinder persisted. "Bobo! Git in de drrress, or you git a punch in da face agayn!" I resisted the best I could but the man forced me into the ungodly outfit, and I just stood there pouting. The crank slowly started to turn again and the music began to play, but I couldn't bring myself to perform in such ridiculous attire. "Bobo!" the man repeatedly called my name but I paid no attention. How could he do this to me after all the hard work and abuse I had taken? The house chores, the early morning dance recitals, the three by three cage, the non-constentual sex favors. It was all too much and the breaking point was when I was expected to whore myself out as an animal, pop-icon, impersonator. The notes expelled from the box rapidly, pounding in my brain. Each one more off-key than the last, like an old ice cream truck stopping in front of the fat kids' house.

I tore off the costume and hurled it into the oncoming traffic, causing a motorist to run up the curb and collide with a mailbox where an elderly woman was depositing her AARP registration forms, a letter to her congressman, and a birthday card for her cat. The organ grinder stood with his jaw hanging in disbelief. This was my opportunity. I leapt with all my might, fangs exposed to deliver austere vengeance. They sank through skin and into the skull of the man's forehead while my thumbs gouged into his squinty eyes. The flavor was sweeter than any banana I had tasted. If there was screaming I couldn't hear it over the notes playing like a broken record in my head, but if I were to guess it would be something along the lines of, "Bobo! You mutherfucker!". We toppled to the ground and I rolled off a few feet away. My leash had come undone. Not even taking a second to look back I began my sprint through the city. Darting through the alleys and swinging from telephone lines, the adrenaline pumped through my veins. Free from my captor but now on the run from the law; I was doomed to spend the rest of my days not just as an ape but an ape with a price on his head.

I just got back from Burning Man and it was actually really lame but I'll show you these pictures anyway.

Here's a picture of the Man. It never really did anything but stand around. It was pretty boring.


This art car dressed like a fish looks scary but it really wasn't. It was just dumb.


Here's Dan with a bunch of cute girls we were camping with. That really sucked.


This is a tree made out of cow bones. They should have just buried them.


Here's one of many giant, flame throwing tricycles that were out on the playa. I guess these guys had nothing better to do.


A giant SUV sculpture called the "BUMMER", which is what I was thinking during this whole damn time.


The 10-story steel tower was a pain in the ass to climb. Let's hope it falls over.


Why would anyone want to play Tetris on a 40 foot tall tower when you do it on your Nintendo at home?


A giant robotic hand that smashes cars. Doesn't seem very safe.


Our friend getting zipped up in a duffel bag. I don't think he was having much fun at all.


This guy was making music with a bunch of kids' toys. Someone should tell him to grow up.


People playing with fire. Mother would not approve.


A giant, green duck with a mohawk and laser eyes? What the hell?


A real bowling alley would have been much better.


I guess nobody told these people not to dance during a dust storm.


I know it looks like she's having a good time but she's really not.


We have fireworks on the Fourth of July. Do we really need to seem them again?


That explosion was pretty big but it could have been bigger.


And this guy is a complete idiot.


You can see all the rest of the pictures here, but you must be pretty bored if that's what you want to do.
http://s121.photobucket.com/albums/o227/RenegadeClock/Burning%20Man%202008/

Over 200 photos at this link:
http://s121.photobucket.com/albums/o227/RenegadeClock/Fire%20Performers/


Dan, Jewel, Jojo and I drove to a backyard party where they were spinning fire poi and other flammable toys. They even had a gas torch that spat enormous fireballs into the sky. We didn't know a single person there but they were totally cool and let us come in. Dan even got to spin fire a couple of times and they were impressed with his style. It gave me the chance to play with some long exposures and nighttime photography techniques. Here's a few of my favorites:

National Geographic here I come! Okay, maybe not, but I did get a couple of cool photos while out in Chino Hills today. The first one is a deer's skull that was in the middle of the road. I walked right past this thing once without even noticing, probably because I was more interested in finding living animals. I came to a dead end in the trail and discovered the skull on my way back. There were chunks of skeletal remains scattered around the area including half a rib cage and a spine attached to a pelvic bone. The skull itself was only half intact. It looked like a pack of carnivores had done him in. The bones were not very large, so I suspect that the deceased was a juvenile. Poor little guy, but I bet the little ones are tastier.



So I continued on my journey along the Northridge trail. The hills were coated in tall, dry mustard plants. From a distance it looked like they had a soft, golden pelt rather than sheets of dead reeds. A man on a bike passed me and asked if I was from Denmark. It was the strangest thing, but he seemed a bit odd altogether. He stopped and asked me what I was taking photos of and warned me that the ranger was giving out citations because the park was actually closed today. I didn't care though, I'd take my chances. During our conversation he pulled a pair of heavy chaps from his backpack and began putting them on. I inquired, "Heading into rattlesnake country?" He claimed that a cow had gotten loose and was wandering on the hillside so he was tasked to retrieve it. "Be careful, and good luck!", I said. Chino Hills probably has the highest density of rattlesnakes per square inch than anyplace else on Earth.



Coming around a bend I noticed large patches of purple flowers. The bees were taking quite a liking to them so I took the opportunity to take some close up shots. A pair of mountain bikers coming uphill passed by me and exclaimed, "That sure looks more relaxing than what we're doing!". Indeed it was.





After a few hours my feet were hurting from walking uphill, carrying my camera gear. The skies were looking a bit scary. The last place I would want to be is in a lightning storm on top of a hill. So I turned around and started the walk out. I put my camera away so I could walk fast without it bouncing around my neck, and carried the tripod over both my shoulders. A middle-aged couple passed by and the woman said, "I didn't know if that was a rifle or a camera you had there!"
"I've got one of those too.", I said jokingly.
"Oh, you stop!" she giggled as they walked away.

I came to a long straightaway in the trail. Either side was lined with tall grass, forming roofless hallway. At the far end, about fifty feet away, I saw some animal moving across the trail. It was about the size of a medium dog. I thought it might be a coyote but the color wasn't right, and the way it moved was definitely feline. Then I was worried, because it could have been a mountain lion. So I kneeled down and got out my camera as fast as possible. I zoomed in all that I could, which wasn't much with the lens I had on. I could tell by the ears and spots that it was a bobcat. I felt relieved but still cautious. I wanted to get a photo before it was gone, but the zoom wasn't good enough. I needed my 300mm lens. I grabbed the lens from my bag and swapped it for the one I was using. It was probably the fastest lens change I had ever done. I managed to snap everything into the tripod and get a few shots off. The cat then jumped into the bushes. Wanting to get a better shot, I popped the camera out of the pod and tip-toed my way down the trail, but by the time I got there he was gone. I guess I'll be going back to this spot until I get that shot I was looking for.

One day in painting class my instructor, Samantha, was reading off some DVD titles for us to watch. Most were of famous artists, Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Da Vinci, the usual gang. So I joking called out, "Bob Ross!". And she says, "Oh my gosh! Do you have a Bob Ross DVD?" And yes, I actually did. Those of you who are not familiar with that name would almost certainly recognize Bob Ross and the guy on PBS with the 'fro, who paints "Happy Trees". Ross is best known as the host of the public television series The Joy of Painting, which ran from 1983 to around the time of his death in 1995 and is still shown in reruns in many broadcast areas. During each half-hour segment, Ross would instruct viewers in the art of oil painting using a quick-study, wet-on-wet technique that kept colors to a minimum and broke paintings down into simple steps that anyone could follow.

So the next week I brought the DVD in and we had Bob Ross Day. First we needed to acquire some official Bob Ross brand liquid white paint. So a student was sent to Michael's craft supply store to pick some up. We skimmed through the different episodes on the DVD to find the one we wanted to follow along with. Ultimately, the group decided on an ocean sunset scene called "By-the-Sea". We prepared our canvases by painting the lower portion with a black acrylic. After that dried we covered the rest with the liquid white and overlaid the black with clear medium.

Queue the video! Bob greets us on the screen and begins in his traditional way by listing off the colors that we'll need for the painting. Bob begins to paint the colors of the sky, "Maybe we'll use a little Indian Yellow right here. I don't know. It's your world. You decide!" Well, it didn't take more than a minute into the demonstration before we had to pause the video because the whole group was laughing hysterically. Bob's demeanor is so relaxed and affirmative it's a bit difficult for a large group of disaffected, college art students to take seriously. But we proceeded as best we could, finding quickly that this was actually more difficult than Bob made it look. Sometimes we would get lost because you'll watch Bob do something and you'll have no clue what his intentions are and you'll assume that what he's doing is going to ruin the whole thing. For instance, dipping your finger in some white paint and rubbing it in a small circle on the canvas to make the sun. But the man has a master plan and it all works out in the end if you just watch before attempting anything. Big laughs were had again once Bob brought in his pet squirrel, which appeared to be making an attempt at a number two just before the camera cut back to Bob.

Three hours later there was some definite frustration. Samantha had thought that because the episodes are only a half hour long that it should take about that much time for us to do the painting. The problem though is that none of us are Bob Ross. The man makes it look much simpler than it is, but in the end we had a decent set of paintings.

So what I learned from Bob Ross day is that as artists we can sometimes get to focused on our own little world and forget that making art can be a wonderful experience to share together. It's not my intention to make Bob Ross style paintings. They're schmaltzy and not much of a challenge to me, but I feel that there's a lot Bob can teach us about painting techniques and I have great respect for the man. When you hear a reference to Bob it's most likely to be the butt end of some joke about his hair, his art style, the various animals he brings on the show or that he must be stoned, but after really watching him work in these shows I can't say anything bad about the guy. He was genuine in his presentation and truly believed that he could help and inspire people to create art. He did exactly that, and if doing that is wrong then there's something wrong with the world. Thank you Bob.

More photos here: http://s121.photobucket.com/albums/o227/RenegadeClock/Afton%20Canyon%20Camping/?mediafilter=images

Tony being a good dad & Bosco


Playing Mad Libs


Christina & Bea


The Brat


Train tracks


Pyramid Canyon


Baby rattlesnake


Bird in the reeds


Campfire


Shooting Star


The Telescope


Fuzzy tent


Ghost Train


Mirror Pool


Trestle under the stars


Nighttime Landscape


Self portrait


Rock Hounding Treasures


More photos here: http://s121.photobucket.com/albums/o227/RenegadeClock/Afton%20Canyon%20Camping/?mediafilter=images

Last weekend I drove up the California coast with Alia to a town called San Simeon. There are miles of beautiful coastline along the Pacific Coast Highway. We stopped at a point where you can see elephant seal breeding grounds up close. There's also a mansion out there called Hearst Castle that we took a tour of. This guy would go around Europe, buy art and buildings, then have it shipped back to build his home out of. So here's a selection from the photos I took.

All the photos here:
http://s121.photobucket.com/albums/o227/RenegadeClock/San%20Simeon/

A Student's Guide to Painting
by RenegadeClock

Hello young virtuosos! Today we will learn about oil painting, the most highly regarded technique of the art world for the past several centuries (granted you only studied Euro-centric art history). Being a great painter requires an eye for detail, extensive brush skill, and above all a pretentious artistic attitude. So here's some tips on how to make the most of your art class experience.

• Cheap brushes work just as well as the expensive ones, but buy the expensive brushes anyway to make your classmates jealous. Then buy the cheapest paint.

• When painting still life arrangements complain about the composition and insist on rearranging it, even if other students already started their painting.

• Look up every hole-in-the-wall local art gallery; no matter how obscure. Mention these exhibitions to your instructor and act offended that they had no idea about it. It totally besmirches their credibility.

• When you arrive to class take extensive time and care in setting up your work area. Once everything is perfect leave your seat and go talk to all pretty girls in class.

• Any student better than you is your enemy. Berate their work as having no soul.

• Stare at your painting for ten minutes without making a brushstroke, and hold the back tip of your brush to your mouth like you're that bitch, Audrey Hepburn, smoking a cigarette. Occasionally gesture as if to make a brushstroke but renege at the last moment. Once you make a brushstroke go back to staring at the painting for ten minutes.

• Approach other students and examine their work. Make disapproving faces and sighs. After a minute walk away without saying anything.

• When another student asks for your critique of their work tell them it's full of problems and it's too late to fix it. They might as well start over or give up.

• If they show Georgia O'Keeffe paintings during a slideshow yell "Dyke!".

• When you get frustrated with your painting yell "Fuck!" and throw your brush. Then storm, ranting out of the classroom. Come back 5 minutes later reeking of pot smoke and act like nothing happened.

• Wear your best clothes to class and throw a fit when you get paint on them.

• Listen to your headphones all the time, because the music the other students bring in doesn't compliment your aura, and they have no taste.

• Work on the largest canvas you can get. If your painting sucks people will still be impressed by the size. Making a canvas that is non-rectangular is good too, because you're "thinking outside the box".

• Don't clean your brushes. The more worn out they are the more experienced you'll seem.

• Bring your own easel to class, because the ones provided are shitty.

• Insist on painting like Jackson Pollock. When other students complain about the mess you're making ask them why they hate art.

• Scrape your palette knives to make irritating sounds.

• Make your signature as gaudy as possible.

• Make paintings of animal corpses. Surely there will be PETA supporters in your class.

• Spend 50 hours on your homework assignment and act surprised that no one else put in as much effort as you did.

• If someone points out a mistake in your work claim that it was intentional and that they're too stupid too grasp the complexity of your vision.

• Obtain some finger paintings made by a four year old and turn them in as your homework. Inform the instructor that you are searching for your inner child.

• When painting nudes ignore the human form and just exaggerate the private parts. Extra points for cross-gender manipulation.

• Make your colors as unnatural as possible. It's easier than trying to mix the correct ones. And don't buy any colors on the instructor's supply list; they only limit your creativity.

• Finish your project quickly and spend the rest of the class time talking to girls. When the instructor tells you to get back to your seat call them a cock-blocker.

• If you receive an A on your project throw it in the trash can by the door so all the other students can see it as they walk out.

So my boss thought he'd be a funny guy and try and gross me out while I was eating lunch at my desk by emailing me an image of an obese woman vomiting. The trick was particularly effective. It certainly wasn't the type of thing I wanted to see, especially while eating a sushi roll. Luckily I was almost finished. Then one of my colleagues, who was CC'd on the email, claimed that he could beat us all with some weak picture of a guy who crapped himself in a patio chair. Of course, around here you reap what you sow, and I'm about one hundred times better at the internet than anyone at my office. So I wasted no time with slowing escalating this campaign. I went straight for the big guns and tubgirl'd all of them. Much to my delight none of them had ever seen it before. To quote my boss, "That is the worst thing I have ever seen. You burned my eyes out." And one of my coworkers had to step outside for a minute after seeing it.

I am the reigning champion of office gross-out now. What an honor.

The following links are gross images and certainly not suitable for work or if your parents are looking over your shoulder. Click at your own risk.

http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b314/tmcatee/white_hot_fat_girl_throwing_up.jpg

http://www.hotghettomess.com/index.php?full=1&set_albumName=hgm_wh&id=wh_toodrunk&option=com_gallery&Itemid=48&include=view_photo.php

http://www.jackassery.com/uploadedcontent/album/tubgirl.jpg