Creepy on Demand

Laffin' Sal (60"x 20") oil on canvas.

Geritopia commenter Joey Polanski writes: " Pleas more pitchers of creepy fake peopl." Done! This is the place where your creepy wishes come true Joey. And don't miss this exclusive quicktime movie link of: "Laffin' Sal" in action.

Laffin' Sal was one of many vintage boardwalk amusement fixtures on display at the Cliff House in San Francisco, but the collection has been moved to the Golden Gate Nat'l Recreation Area.

Randi Rhodes & Scooter Libby In Beltway Scuffle

"Hay" everybody. This is my blog, Geritopia. I share about myself , my hobbies (Bingo, Standard Poodles), and my life here in Los Angeles.

Here's a picture of my sock with a hole in it.

And here's a photo of a partially-eaten sandwich.

It's five-days old.

Kid's Korner: If you unravel your intestines, they will reach all the way to the MOON!

Blogs are great, and they taste good too! Ha-ha-ha! Smell my feet! Ha-ha-ha! : )

Song Lyric Contest!

OK, I could potentially really embarrass myself here, and so can you. Here's how: write some song lyrics and submit them in the "comments" section along with two box tops from Kellogg's Special K (or the street drug variant). The lyrics shouldn't be too long and I would recommend that they include a repeat-chorus style arrangement to work with. I will then record a song based on whichever singular submission that I select as the best. If no one replies then I will either go on a drinking binge or write an instrumental. The finished work will be posted here as a link to an MP3 that you can download and listen to. Doesn't that sound like fun? Knock yourselves up -I mean out!

my "teen idol" phase

Offer applies only in the planetary sphere known as "Earth". Song submissions are welcome from friends and family and employees of geritopia without limitation or restrictions. Finished song becomes property of Geritopia Industries Inc. and her subsidiaries, including ChewyBeefstick records. Song may be slightly edited to conform to music patterns and/or arrangement. Spam in the comments section are also legitimate contenders. Winner receives a burnt piece of bacon* Offer expires on 11-10-05.

*not true.

Exclusive Hollywood Celebrity Interview

My swell friend Linda Abbott appeared on the WB network's infamous "Blind Date" show last Friday. Blind Date is the kind of show that dwells somewhere in the dark recesses of the TV cultural landscape. Such programs are well known but not talked about in polite company, being right up there with "Cheaters" and "Maximum Exposure". These shows consistently deliver cheap voyeuristic thrills and there's always a market hungry for that. I'm certainly no stranger to watching stuff like this, although the "thrills" can quickly wear thin except in very measured doses. Say what you will but Blind Date has made one redeeming social contribution. That is that it can lend therapeutic clarity to the un-hitched person whom, after watching the show with all its train-wreck dates, no longer feels so bad about his or her single status.

Linda Abbott: TV stunt goddess

Curious of the spectacle surrounding overnight celebrity, Geritopia caught up with Linda during a brief interval in her hectic schedule of A-list appearances and paparazzi encounters. What a scoop!

______________________

Geritopia: Why did you appear on the Blind Date Show?

Linda: They contacted me via a dumb/funny dating post on Craig's List that had included a nice and artistic photo of me, taken by an ex boyfriend. They had me audition. Then called me in last-minute one morning as a replacement for a flake. They sent a town-car, which was fun. It gave me time to do my own hair & make-up, which is left to the blind-daters to do themselves.


Geritopia: But you had your own Star trailer, certainly?

Linda: No, changing clothes was done in covert bathroom operations, etc.


Geritopia: How was the V.I.P. catering?

Linda: There was no catering...we went to an actual, real-live dinner at the Wine Bistro, which is somewhere in the valley (Toluca Lake? North Hollywood? Sherman Oaks? -not sure). I highly recommend it (but w/o a TV crew, and without my date)


Geritopia: What do you expect your next starring roll will be?

Linda: The Michael (my "Blind Date") Assassin.


Geritopia: Do you ever feel like a monkey in a cage with all the fans and attention?

Linda: It's no different than it used to be, really. There are no fans of the show, nor any of me, it turns out.


Geritopia: America is interested in the deeper reflections of its celebrities. Do you have anything to say about the current political climate here?

Linda: I hate nearly all politicians and to me, they are roughly all the same. You can hate George Bush if you want, but if you are truly enlightened/jaded, then you should hate all of them, both Republican and Democrats. I believe there is something deeply wrong with someone who actually WANTS to be president. There, I said it.


Geritopia: Who's your favorite Beatle?

Linda: John Lennon, I'd say, but mostly cuz he didn't stick around long enough to get very annoying.


Geritopia: Can you tell geritopia what you liked about your date?

Linda: Nothing


Geritopia: What did you dislike?

Linda: Everything


Geritopia: Did he touch you?

Linda: No, fortunately.


Geritopia: Did your date peel off a latex mask revealing Donald Rumsfeld's head after the show?

Linda: I wish.


Geritopia: Do you think you will ever love again?

Linda: I ostensibly love now.


Geritopia: How did Roger Lodge's cologne smell?

Linda: He's like the Wizard of Oz...you don't get to meet him just because you're on the show. As far as I know, we were never even in the same zip code at the same time --in fact, I'm not sure he really, truly exists in our reality/time plane.


Geritopia: What do you think the next big thing will be in Theoretical Physics?

Linda: If I knew what that was, I might take a guess, but I don't, so I can't/won't.


Geritopia: String Theory or string cheese?

Linda: String Theory. Though really, isn't string cheese a theory?


Geritopia: String bikini or strung violin?

Linda: Back in the day, string bikini; now I'll wear a violin instead, if possible.


Geritopia: Would you recommend being on the Blind Date television program?

Linda: Only if you want to waste 8-9 hours



Geritopia: Thank you for speaking with geritopia.

Linda: It was almost fun...

Master Art Class in a Bag

The following steps are all you need to make art. This is the same process that I took in creating my famous piece entitled: "untitled", which no one knows about. While the results may look painstaking, the only supplies required are a bag of lima beans, some uncooked macaroni and some household Elmers glue.


First you need to plot a "line of action", plus the essential perspective in blocking out areas of your composition.


Then add thumbnail sketches of where your "stuff" is to be placed. Wearing a beret will assist you greatly here.

Now that all the hard work is finished you can retire to bed and take a well deserved nap. If you are given to drinking absinthe and/or experience erratic mood swings you can ignore all the preceding and skip directly to the next and final step:

"Untitled"

Cover your canvas with glue and apply the macaroni and lima beans [tip: adding a little blood or urine to your palette will get you favorable mention in the review columns]. Presto -ART!

Some artists supplement their work by writing a manifesto. It's true that one doesn't see many manifestos these days. Yet, I predict that the manifesto will be making a big comeback, only they will be cleverly masquerading as "artist statements".

Next installment: how to win friends and influence people with your manifesto.

________________________
p.s. Happy birthday bro Dirk, who will probably never see this.
He's a real gone dad, that Dirk.

Count Chakra-la

Computers are evil. They do not enhance my freedom to play tennis all day or liberate me from my burdens. I still wear a harness and drag the plow through the mud. The handy spell-checker is the exception to this jaundiced view on computers, granted. The situation is analogous to my conviction that High School was an intellectual wasteland but I did benefit from learning to type and Driver's Ed. I'm a practical man, baby. Or a practical Man-Baby, take your pick.

I'm also part geek; part-time geek-heretic. I work with the tools of technology but I'm quite familiar with the sick side of it too. ...i.e., the constant push for technology to raise the bar to yield the next THING that will make everyone go "Cool!". In the motion graphics field, this is the lifeblood of existence. When 3D animation hit the scene, we feasted our eyes on gratuitous flying text. Many a drooling TV passenger sailed through the "O"s and curly-ques of each letter. Ooooo! "Wow, I just want to get in there and lick all those shiny steel and glass fonts!" It made the Cool Chakra buzz for the requisite .3 orgasm duration.

'Course, that's all yesterday's novelty. Now you can do high-end work with a home computer. But beware the over-stimulation of the Cool Chakra, for it tends towards a stunted-development aesthetic, puts hair on the palms, etc.

the altar of passive euphoria

So remove yourself from the computer now! Go outside. Say hello to a fish. Put on a harness and plow the mud. Make love to a pile of leaves. Remember: the organic world is the basis for what the computer geek seeks to emulate and control (the evasion of mortality and kissing of girls). But don't be fooled. Be free my brothers and sisters. Be free!

Meanwhile, here's some more computer graphics to delight and tantalize. I hope you find them cool.

The Controversy Over Muscular Babies

Things are heating up at work, which means the risk of actually having less time to devote to my first love: sitting nude in front of the computer and publishing my blog for 3 devoted "people".

When acquaintances find out that I do graphics for TV, they will often ask "where have I seen your work?" with one eyebrow raised --a reasonable question. It's a long story but lately I've been working for an entertainment cable channel doing quick turn-around graphics, the insignificance of which makes me forget what I did the day previous. It's like a blur. The mindset for making TV is just like watching it when operating on that level.

While the highlights of my career include digital dentistry on L Ron Hubbard's teeth (as detailed in 10-25's posting), other jobs had me working on OJ Simpson "The Juice" infomercials (pre-murder spree); "mosaicing" body parts for the H Stern show (censorship means a big wad of $$$ in my wallet and that's obscene); creating bloody cross-sectional illustrations for medical programs; cleaning zits off images of Corey Feldman for his celeb 'expose' show, etc. Actually, it hasn't been bad. I like being a freelancer. I'm just doing my "schtick" here... but the preceding examples definitely come with the territory.

I'm an arteest, dammit! What am I doing???

working at a centrifugal force of 5 Gs

I've easily save more images from just noodling on the Quantel Paintbox than ones made for clients. Lookie here:

...and more to come. weeee!!!

Other Folk's Photos

Here's a heapin' fist full o' anonymous photos from my collection. These were "found", meaning I purchased them from flea markets and thrift stores. Of course, I have no idea who these people are. I'm sure that the vintage ones are from estates of geezers now long gone. Other than that, the pics speak for themselves and there's lots more for future series.

Skeletons Ahoy

It's a living.

I wasn't sure if I could stomach doing a "bit" here so similar to the blooper articles that Jay Leno features on his not-so-great show, so I must be feeling unusually sadistic.

I've been receiving a high volume of Halloween-themed junk mail from places like "Party America" and "Smart & Final" at my home. And so here's some recycled junky highlights just for you, dear reader!

These costumes have potential usefulness for internet dating profiles. What lucky lady wouldn't want to go out with a handsome walking toilet? See how he seductively obliges with the seat down! Or bleeding devil? His outpouring heart just keeps on giving. And Elvis alter ego. A frozen sneer will always get you to home plate, my friend. I already sorta' resemble used car salesman, so where's my royalties Mr. Corporate Costume Maker Man?

Wait, who needs costumes when I've still got my smelly Jack in the Box uniform? I'll go as Shaukat!

The Thing looks like some kinda' human road kill cookie.

And how 'bout that Lazy Town Stephanie? I'm guessing that she must be from Lazy Town. I want my celebrity gossip to be about her sordid affairs... no more of this bourgeois Paris Hilton crap!

...but speaking of "Scary", get a load of them Farmer John Bacon & Hot Dog Mummies! "Hey, like, what's up with that?" [cue canned laughter]

Full Frontal L. Ron

Aquí está otra historia interesante del hombre de funcionamiento. Una facilidad de producción me empleé una vez video pequeña. Me pidieron pintar la cara de L. Ron Hubbard un marco a la vez y hacer le mirada bonita. La primera asignación limpiaba encima de los dientes amarillos del cocodrilo de L Ron Hubbard. En otro vídeo, tuve que hacerle mirada como él llegaba un terminal del aeropuerto y agitaba a la gente que no estaba realmente allí. Había dos personas de la iglesia de Scientology que me miró trabajar para cerciorarse de que no me reiría de la película que me dieron. Me asustaron para mi vida, y estoy asustado ahora de ser demandado.

Go to Babelfish, copy & paste, to translate the preceding from Spanish to English (and it still won't make much sense):

http://babelfish.altavista.com/

Nude!-Nude!-Nude! (pt.2)

OK, granted, maybe it's a bit sad to be retelling stories of working at a certain fast food chain with a clown motif. The world is pretty screwed up and our political system is being tested to the brink of collapse, while I'm here writing about the antics of a bunch of lunk-heads throwing cheese onto the ceiling.

Which reminds me, when I was working at the aformentioned clown head restaurant, I invented a designer sandwich christened "The Hoyt Special". ...Pssst, don't tell anybody but it was actually the combination of a breakfast sandwich and what was called a "Moby Jack" (an appetizing block of pneumatically compressed fish). So, try this recipe if you must at your own peril: 1 slice ham, 1 grilled egg, 2 slices of American cheese, 1 deep-fried fish filet, 2 tble spns of tartar sauce on a lightly toasted split-level hamburger bun.


I made poster art advertising the Hoyt Special which I propped up on the counter at night when the manager was away. The example here is a photo of the original artwork. And there were a couple of takers of the Hoyt Special, as I recall. Amazing. It's a wonder, with such enterprising instincts, that I didn't become Donald Trump... but then again how could I? He's not me and I am not he.

Yes, this is all very sad.

________________

photo: Jim DeRosa

And here's a shot of me sitting in a dumpster from the same era, just for the road.

Nude!-Nude!-Nude! (pt.1)

This Blog is all about transparency, if nothing else. We do not dodge the sometimes unseemly past or disconcerting realities of life. On that note, I will not deny that I worked at a certain fast food franchise in my senior year of High School. I will not deny that I still have friends in my circle who, likewise, once worked at this infamous drive-thru, popularly identified by its' clown head motif. I will not 'out' these people, but you know who you are Dennis, Tony, Marcel, and Jim!

It was an oddly fun place to work for the duration and a great training ground for anyone anticipating a career in the no-budget, quick- turnaround environs of TV production. We "raced" iced cubes on the grill; thrilled to the cacophony of spattering hot shortening; sent to dizzying heights tossing slices of cheese to the ceiling (where they stuck in a most viscerally satisfying way); marveled at the NUDE people who would drive through during wild Saturday night shifts; learned about various cultures from co-workers with exotic names like "Shaukat" and "Prakong". In short, it was the best time that could be had while stinking of grease.

original photos: Jim DeRosa

Nude Again

While I'm not inclined to boast, I don't mind saying that I was actually amongst the first to sit nude at a computer, as this image will attest. It's one thing to be nude at the computer, but perhaps another to actually have a photo of oneself blindingly-nude at the computer posted on a blog and very likely being viewed by countless other hard-working Americans nude at their computers.

I am not advocating nudity at the computer, nor do my opinions represent the internet in any way. The photo is for scientific inquiry only and in hopes that the truth will be represented without taint.

The Mystery of the Sidewalk Nipples, Cont.

So there I was riding my bike down Autumn lanes, feeling expansive and virile in the open air. My mood became unsettled when I began spotting more and more of the dreaded sidewalk nipples (see yesterday's post below) as they passed rhythmically under my wheels. 'Kah-klunk-kah-klunk', until the entire sidewalk was literally paved solid with sidewalk nipples! I chanced upon a gypsy woman who spoke a haunting riddle: "watch for the bald man, for he sets all things backward and forwards with his rusty stopwatch". Hearing this, I squeezed the brakes on the handlebars which sent me almost colliding into the paperboy as he yelled out the day's headlines: "Sidewalk Nipple Menace Causes Global Chaos!!! -- World Leaders Helpless On War Against Sidewalk Nipples!!!".
In that instant the world around me darkened. Confusion filled the streets. The din of honking horns; the unruly sight of fruit carts overturned everywhere. I ran into the Italian organ grinder man who pointed me one direction...











And then the magician pointed yet in another direction. Upset and confused, I pumped the bike pedals faster and faster, not knowing where I was or where I would find myself next.




Suddenly braking again, a line of pulverized rubber skid mark stopped short of his towering, eerie presence. A silence, save for my racing heart. I look up to see the Bald Man with the rusty stopwatch that the fortune teller had spoken of!


And he was mammoth. The man slowly glanced down at me with his winsome smirk. "Are you responsible for the Sidewalk Nipple invasion?", I cried. "No", he replied, which I suppose lets him off the hook.


THE END