known scars.  ill start at my oldest known scar.  horizontal two inch incision. reads as a forward slash "/", one inch above and to the right of it. your right my left.  hernia. would it be ironic if he-man was my favorite cartoon at the time. it was. i distinctly remember at least one time or more; i had lifted up the coffee table in the living room, emptied my toybox and threw it out the window of our second story apartment, lifting up my bed, the couch, moms bed.  one time i hid in this hexagonal end table lamp stand cupboard and josh's dad, ron ferguson(?iffy on the spelling) had moved the couch so i couldnt get out. but that was years after my foreward slash scar.  

the second earliest scar if i remember good is on my right hand.  childhood pal bobby watson accomplice. self-inflicted stab wound.  i guess bobby had an endless supply of soda because we had built gradually but eventually we had built up the momentum up to the point where we cans were gone in seconds, dropped to the floor partly crushed, half-empty, and still foaming.  before it even hits the ground my right hand is already grabbing for another soda meanwhile another can lies dead on the second story balcony. this can more so than the prior in quantity, more sparatic, less calculated.  we were having so much fun.  it started by spraying off the balcony but before our pop party's abrupt end we might have been soaked, we were wet and deffinately spraying these cans directly at each other.  convient that the patio exit was also the kitchen enterance, and just inside past the balcony light switch we have kitchen knives!!   trying to ignore the soda barrage, the rythem went a bit like this:  grab-stab-shake and spray-repeat. but it became grab-stab-shake and spray at other guy-repeat. which became grab-stab-stab-shake and spray at other guy in the face-repeat, which eventually increased intensity in equal perportion to wetness sustained which multiplied by the puncture quantity in the can top.  this lead to two frenzied second graders on a second story balcony with soda and knives high on sugar and possibly caffiene.  i built up a groove which had me stabbing with my left hand and shaking with my right.  i had developed a technique so perfect that i stabbed my hand.  the knife glanced off the right side of the can and plunged right in to that muscle'y area between the thumb and index finger.  this muscle is most widely recognised as the muscle one would use for gripping things with his hand.  these days, more so than any other reason by a landslide, this muscle is the press space bar muscle.

I have a series of scars from trying to stop myself from being swept into a small dark tunnel to supposedly the ocean.  it was a concrete riverbed or storm drain, but instead a concrete overflow drain channel for the reservoir on the big island of hawaii. it had recently stormed,  the current was strong, about two to three feet deep all rolling on a downhill grade that leveled out eventually to the ocean...  well at least thats how the story went.  on boogie boards it was a couple hundred feet of fun being swept away on your belly head first untill the last quarter when the small dark tunnel comes into view.  i believe we were all struck with fear at the same time, however i appeared to be the last to chicken out.  the truth was i weighed the least. i had been dragging my feet against the concrete floor beneath me, fighting the current, in an effort to stop myself but the current was too strong.  in a last effort to save myself i thrust my knees into the tail end and pulled up on the nose pushing the tail into the ground slowing me down enough to get a foot hold but with the weight of the water against the sponge i lost my grip on the board... and away it went.  i hadnt even known what my feet looked like yet, i was still thigh high in water.  eventually i found i had ground down a few spots on the tops of each foot as well as toes and a couple of toenails bloody to either breakage or grinding.  probably the most painful of the injurys sustained, but alas no scars on my toenails however i do feel they deserve an honerable mention.

i have various scars about my knees and elbows from skateboarding.

some scars about my knuckles and fingers from punching personally selected various nouns.  

i have a scar just below the right side of my lower lip from where paula shinners nailed me in the face in a game of broom ball..  at youth group of all places.  

i have a scar between my eyes where my brow meets the bridge of my nose from where nick and michelle schwartz's dog bit me.  i was dangling a hot dog out of my mouth and offered it to the dog.  with much excitement he accepted..   a bloody nose was also recieved in the deal.  that damn dog.  i certainly got the ass end of that exchange.

i have a scar on my right thumb knuckle that required 8 stitches and a thumb brace that strapped around your wrist.  i learned to smoke with my middle and ring finger as a result. the index finger does the flicking.  this scar origin revolves around a campfire in yosemite national forest and a stick which had a knot that i wanted gone....   so i could toast marshmallows.

my most recent scar is above my right eye(left to you).  i have two dots on that eyebrow from a piercing.  the scar looks like it could be the third dot in that series but what piercing has three holes also i dont think i would want to pierce my eyelid but apparently that damn dog that i love so much, honkytonk hank, thought the contrary.  i was laying my on my dearest alicia's shoulder when gravity perhaps made me want my head in my sweethearts lap.  hank is very territorial when it comes to his mama.  he didnt want my head in that lap. enough so, he gave me a reminder that will re-remind me every time i look in the gosh darn mirror.   thanks a lot dawg.

this will be held in the Santora art building in the Santa Ana Artists Village..  ill be playing in an art gallery..   the featured artists are good friends of mine.  were all working together to make this installation quite the spectacle...  so if your into art...  the entire artists village will be having open galleries..   the art is free to look at...   ill be making the music..   and...   there will be plenty of wine and crackers!!!     all free...    cant beat that..      more details to come.

This'll be my first time at this venue..  i checked it out and it looks cool..   and i think you can smoke cigs inside..   reminds me kinda of koo's..  (the old santa ana koo's not the new one in long beach.)  it has that same rough starving artist authenticity to it.....   for more info on the venue see http://www.myspace.com/aaaelectra99.     flyer coming soon..   this will be $5 at the door on the night of the event...  Hawaiiano 5-0 will be there playing various instruments subject to my sampling.....   also playing that night;   The Lost and Found Sound,  Tae, Courtney, Collin, & Jack.. AKA THE CLAP!!!

Hosted By: Vernaspeq & mikepointfive
When: Saturday Jan 06, 2007
at 7:00 PM
Where: Plush Lounge
207 n. Harbor Blvd
Fullerton, CA 92832
US
Description:
Vernaspeq & mikepointfive

Click Here To View Event

it seems that in my experience, more often than not, advise is given with our best interests in mind.  when i think back to much of the advice given to me i recall it was more often than not ignored.  so recently i found myself giving advice..  then shortly there after, was watching my advice be ignored..   an odd feeling..  could you say i had it coming?     

music in my head...  its like a spark..  which fuels an explosion..  sometimes so intense i can only sit and stare..

if i were a cartoon, smoke would come out my ears..

hear PF TheRebuttle.

 

here it is..
this is the east village.

this place is cool.. its very communal.. its like a little village if you will.. as a community we enjoy many luxuries that alot of places cant offer. theres a fire pit where often were gathered enjoying drink and conversation well into the wee hours.. theres a large pull down projection screen where we have movie nights.. theres cook outs.. partys.. art shows... plus the freedom to create.. lots of good stuff.. but thats just the community..
we would be upstairs

this one..

its a big place.. it could be almost anything we wanted cause we have the freedom to do that.. its messy cause my roomies are moving out.. but hopefully these pictures will at least show you how big the place is.. all the art is from previous residents.. yes.. we could soo do a make over..


my room is on the left. =)

the layout

this will hopefully give you an idea of what your room is. sorry i couldnt get any pictures.. they wouldnt consent.. too messy was the reason.. but here..
these are pictures of my room.. i built a loft.. im so proud of it.. but maybe with these pics and the layout picture youre starting to get an idea.. high ceilings.. sky lights... walkin closets.. plus what ever you make of it.. its total loft livin..
A R T

the east village is 1 of several artist communitys in the area.. this is very much so a safe haven for creativity.. for a roomate im would like a creative individual.. drawing, painting, poem reading, sculpting, play writing, drum banging, guitar playin, .wav twistin... got art?
creativity is a must!
if you like what you see here and you think you would like to discuss it further please message me.

thanks for your time

sincerely,
-mike

it could have been an unwelcomed visitor...  maybe he was just a pesky pest...  but for some unknown reason, thursday night an unusually large cockroach ventured into my room.  (cue devious evil laughing)If ever a time for famous last words there were.... that roach should've been singing..   but luckily for me...  roaches dont speak.

step 1:  stun the bug...  
now keep in mind i had no idea at this point that this sick chain of events were about to unfold...  but..  ::whack::   here's the kickoff!!!

step 2: remove head..
having felt bad that i didnt actually kill the bug..  (oh merciful me..)  i grabbed the closest vendor of insect death that i could find..  nope..  not raid..  this bug would hardly be so lucky..  Scissors!!!   it was a quick well placed snip that ended this cocky roach..

break:  the bugs dead...  right?
i go back to watching the movie which this unwelcomed visitor had interupted...  yet..  just as i am getting comfertable...  again...   who do i notice running headless in circles??  why...  yes..  its the pesky pest.

reflection:  im thinking to myself...  self..  you've gotta headless cockroach running circles on your floor..  and in that moment a million thoughts are running thru my head...   i should buld an obstacle course, see how quick he gets thru...  meh..  too much effort...   i should put him in a box and show him to my neighbors!!   eh...   no box...   i should take a picture and send it to ripleys..  after all... they did keep a headless chicken for 3 years..   nah... no camera...  what to do, what to do, what to do...   light a cigarette..  that'll help you think...  i lite the cigarette...   mmmm..  eureka..  i find myself with a lit cigarette in one hand..  a lighter in the other...   and 2 pieces of wiggling roach on the floor..   what would you do??   kill it?   i removed its head...  how much more can you kill it???  heh..   play with it.  and fire...  >=)'

step 3:  this is where the magical transformation from extermination to  experimentation takes place.
now...  i've heard of post mordem animation before..  they explain it as electrons and neurons and synapses exploding due to shock and trauma..  and its this post mordom animation that makes me feel a little guilty...  im at this point wondering...  is he in pain?  is it twice the pain since both his head and body are still moving?  this bug is technically dead right? 

i throw the body in a bowl cause im tired of chasing him...  it....   the head is set upon my desk for more scrutiny later.

experiment:  apply flame.
woah!!  the body jumps like a little girl in a scary movie..   curious..   i touch the flame to one of the antenna waving about...   wow...  the head too...  just as quick as i could touch the flame to the charred little feelers they would shift to the other side of his head..  hense the little tweedle bobbers are not keen to heat...   this poses a new...

question:   is the bug (or whats left of him)in pain?  or is this only response to stimuli?  it is really hard to ascertain which...  presumably anything dead would not feel pain right??   yet..  the body flees for dear life or post life..  hmmm...

conclusion:    i checked up on my test subject(s) every couple hours till bedtime...  the head quit responding to the flame about 8 hours after the decapitation..  the body was still reacting the next morning....  i felt a bunch of guilt...  a little satisfaction...   and a whole lot of wonder...  so maybe im a little bit twisted..  maybe im just a hopeless intelectual just grasping at straws...   perhaps searching for fascination?  perhaps its its the hamster in my head trying to find a new course... some new unexplored mental highway.. or maybe...  he's just tired of his squeeky ol' wheel...

anyone up for a game of chess?