Hi.
So, it's my birthday. I'm 39, which is not all that exciting an age, but you only get to be 39 once, so I will do my best of enjoy the hell out of it. How did I celebrate this not-so-momentous event?
Well, here's the thing. I'm a rock writer, not a rock star. I try to live a quiet, unassuming life, free of dramatic flourish or bitter regret. So there was no booze, no benders, no blood, guts, and pussy. I did still indulge, though. I had actually been planning this all year. See, I have a pretty strict diet. I eat mostly protein and raw vegetables, and I never eat fat, sugar, or carbohydrates. This is because everybody in my family is fat, most of them have Diabetes, and they usually die somewhere in their 60's. So I'm trying to escape my genetic fate. But I decided a few months ago that this weekend I would eat whatever I wanted to. So I did. From Friday to Sunday I ate Indian, Italian, cold cereal, pizza, ice cream, donuts, and a mound of peanut butter cookies. Theoretically, it should have been glorious, and I suppose it sorta was, in spots, but mostly it made me feel awful. Everything was topsy-turvy. My stomach hurt, I had a headache, I had sudden waves of depression, and I was very over-tired, even after sleeping for 8 hours. The whole thing backfired on me. All I want, at this point, is a plate of broccoli and steamed chicken and a glass of Perrier. And possibly a stomach pump.
That being said, I am already looking forward to doing it again next year. Hopefully I can even fit in Chinese on my 40th.
And what did I get this year, besides a bellyache? I'm glad you asked. I only received one present this birthday, but it's a doozy. Stacey, the beautiful bride of Sleazegrinder, got me this unbelievably awesome Tura Satana statue! I think it's about 14" high. It was sculpted by Mark Alfrey, and it's a limited edition. There's only 500 of 'em out there. The detail is amazing, particularly in Tura's ample, anchor-like ass, which Alfrey obviously spent a lot of time on. It's also heavy enough to stove somebody's head in, which is a bonus. I will cherish it forever.
For comparison's sake, here's the real one, in a shot from Faster Pussycat, Kill Kill!:
Otherwise…oh, I wanted to share this photo with you. When I was at my mother's place on – imagine that – Mother's Day, I went through some old photos and found this, my kindergarten class picture in 1974. I was stunned by how well this photograph summed up not only my childhood, but pretty much my entire life up until around the age of 30. I mean, just look at me – I'm a fucking mess. Overweight, stuffed into an ugly, ill-fitting, thrift-store polyester suit, one collar in, one collar out, with a stunned look on my face. This photograph screams: "I am not prepared for any of this. Life is going to roll over me like a tank. I have no chance whatsoever. Please help me."
Here's a close-up of your favorite cult hero:
I love it. I bought a frame and I'm going to hang it on my bathroom wall and stare at it every morning while I shave. It's a miracle I survived my childhood. Especially in a suit like that.
In other news: well, it's the usual bullshit from me, really. The profile for the book Paul and I are writing got deleted for some reason, so it would be cool if you added us as a friend: www.myspace.com/abookaboutboobs . If you didn't know, we are writing a book about the history of teen sex comedies. Hey, if not us, then who, exactly? Anyway, we'll be updating the page pretty often with reviews and other cool junk, so please check it out.
The first all-music edition of the Sleazegrinder Podcast will be up in a week: one hour of pure sleaze, vintage and now-tro, so please subscribe. You'll dig it.
Sons of Guns III is out now with the new issue of Classic Rock. Check it out, it's a monster.
I'm currently working on a Black Oak Arkansas story for Classic, and I'm gonna be doing a Valient Thorr story for Metal Hammer later this month. Who knows what else? Stay tuned, keep reading Sleazegrinder.com, etc.
I'm sure I have more to tell you, but the sugar buzz from the cookies is finally wearing off, so I will probably go to sleep now for 16 hours or so.
Stay rock!
Ken