SUCKBLOG spring 07

APRIL 2, 2007: TOO MUCH INFORMATION

This is getting out of hand. This blog has become way too long and self-indulgent, not to mention too revealing. I allowed myself to get gassed by the positive feedback to my journal. I gave myself too much license and now it's gone too far. The entries are sooo fuckin long and filled with too much detail. I'm interesting, but not that interesting. Plus I think I may be airing out too much personal laundry. I am getting weird letters at my HOME address (unpublished) filled with way too much knowledge about my dirty childhood secrets. I think to myself "oh my god! How does this stranger know so much about me?" DUH, shit-head, you wrote it in your blog. SO, I dunno. I feel compelled to keep spilling it all, but maybe just not so much. WIRED magazine just dropped an article about this topic. It's all about how transparency is the new secretiveness. Apparently in this age of camera phones and YouTube, it's impossible to keep secrets, so why not just out yourself before someone else does? I never was much for keeping secrets about myself, so I guess I'll keep going, just do it more concisely, jerkbag.
Still working on all kinds of shit, the second ORIGINAL VILLAIN trailer/ movie dropped to minimal fanfare. Didn't get the feedback that We got on the first one. It's annoying to work so hard on something and finally get it out and to hear only crickets in response. History will redeem this film, but fuck it. The episodes are gonna come much faster now. Hope this is worth all the effort.
I have been fucking up so bad lately. Forgetting things, making bad choices, buying stupid shit, making mistakes. Age and weed have combined to totally turn me into an idiot. Only half my life is over. If I keep getting stupider every year, I'm gonna be a moron in 20 years. What am I gonna do? I have a world to conquer, I need my faculties intact!

APRIL 3, 2007: STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND

I have been pretty reticent lately. I have a girlfriend and we are in the stay-home-cook-dinner-watch-movies-mode. I am obsessed with my work and I have a lot of it, so I don't go out very often. I run mad errands and go all over the place, but I'm usually wrapped up in my head and I don't see much. Last night I was out just getting high with my friend and walking around when I suddenly noticed like FOUR giant Skyscrapers in the L.E.S that I hadn't noticed before. I'm down there almost every day and I just saw them for the first time and they are almost done. Where the fuck did those things come from? Walking down Stanton street I noticed such a huge demographic shift in the partyiers. SO many corn fed white girls and dudes in tuxedos and mad townies. What happened to all the hipsters and Puerto Ricans? All of a sudden I'm in fuckin Times Square down here. You can't even get to-go Margaritas from THE HAT anymore. They cleaned this place up good. What happened to the dirt bag days of summer in the late 90's when you and your buddies would be out on your BMX bikes at 1 AM drinking Margaritas spiked with grain alcohol making goo-goo eyes at all the hot electroclash cuties going to MAX FISH? It's all gone. It's gonna keep fading. Chinatown is gonna be this little island surrounded by a sea of lame yuppies and baby clothes stores. I don't recognize my own city anymore. Soon the wave will come and wash all the scum off the streets, along with everything else.

APRIL 19, 2007: I SUCK

Sorry, but I just do not have anything to say to you. Nothing new has happened. It's been one of those months of steady progress where shit gets done but all the days blend into each other. I had another "Dark Night of the Soul" recently. I suddenly realized after we put out the second OVN trailer that I suck at everything I do. My art sucks, my toys suck, my music sucks, my videos really suck. All my "talents" are undeveloped and I'm sloppy as all hell. I suddenly realized that none of this shit may ever pay off and that there is no Plan B. I have nothing to fall back on. There is a very strong likeleyhood that I will die penniless and insane trying to make beats to go with a YouTube video about supervillain action figures. I got pretty bummed. My friends were down on me for making wack movies. My girl started telling me that it's not too late to begin a career and go back to school. That sounded like Martian talk to me. I realized that I could never, ever join the straight world. It has to be my way or the highway, and the highway was winning. I just thought. "Ahh fuck, I'm finished." Then after a week of feeling like an abject failure I manned up and decided that they're all wrong and I'm right. I don't care if I have no talent and I'm doomed to obscurity. This is all I wanna do and I'm gonna make it work. There are plenty of terrible artits and shitty hacks who make mad money. So why can't I? I re-applied myself to my tasks and I DON'T GIVE A FUCK about anything. Then all of a sudden I started selling more shit off of my website than usual. Go figure. Assholes make money. Sorry saps get shit...

APRIL 24, 2007: WHEELIE AND THE CHOPPER BUNCH

"I got a bike, you can ride it if you like. It's got a basket, a bell that rings and dings to make it look good!" RIP SYD BARRET

Yeah, I got a new pony this weekend. The last one died on me at the end of last summer. If you know me then you know I'm real big on the NYC downtown bike hang when the weather gets nice. Love my bikes. Best free entertainment in New York in the Summer. I'm lost with out a good BMX 20" chillin machine. I got a few dope Lowriders for short range riding, showing off, and girlie fotos. I love em, but they are tough to ride and you don't get very far without blowing your knees out. No, I need a BMX for the long range trips. I had a good one for the last four years. Some knock off called a Quasar that I got at K-Mart for 80 bux. Man I loved that thing! It was a little heavy, but it looked fuckin cool. It was blue and orange, good New York colors and I rode it everywhere. Regrettably it got sick last year and I couldn't get as far on it. The brakes were shot, the pedals kept falling off. The seat was chewed up, so I put it to sleep. But then this weekend the Summer suddenly started like it always does. It cut from being cold and wet to hot and sunny in one day. It's weird how we only have 2 seasons now. I'm jealous of the elves in Middle earth who have six (winter, awakening, spring, summer, fall, fading, winter.) It was nice out though and I couldn't face the prospect of a summer with no bike. So I said fuckit and went to FRANK'S BIKE SHOP and threw down $300 on a hot little glitter grey SCHWINN BMX jam with pegs on the back. I was there for an hour as I fought with all the customers to get some attention from a mechanic to tweak some of the details. Great customer service, but It seems like every asshole in the world wanted to fix their bike that day. It was worth it. I took it back to the SUCKHOLE for further tweaking like taking off all the stupid decals and taking off the extra bullshit like the chain guard and the reflectors. "chopping the hog" if you will. Anyway, it rides good. I have to keep it in the house cuz it's too nice to lock up overnite in the street. Five flights up the stairs I gotta carry it, but it's worth it to have that freedom to ride. BUT... God if there weren't a huge mob of douchebags out there on sunday. This city is getting so fuckin crowed. Did you see the two new giant high rises going up on 3rd av. and 7th street? More houses for cornballs. Where are all these people gonna go? Oh I know, how about the bike path on the west side highway? How about there, right in my way, Going slow with your big ass mountain bike, stupid helmet, shirt tucked in and your pants cuff tucked into your sock. You know the type? SO many of them glutting up the bikeway, I had to go slow. Fuckin sunday drivers. I'm gonna have to do all my riding on mondays, cuz sunday is the worst day now. All these shitty white people taking up space. MY space. So wack. Well fuck it, I'm still happy to have a new ride. Now I need to get my crew back together...

MAY 22, 2007: BALLS IN THE AIR

So here I am juggling. Juggling balls in the air like a little clown. A little clown here to amuse you. Damm, for a slacker stoner guy I sure get a lot done. What with a big Si*Se gig at BOWERY BALLROOM, mad villain filming, and keeping the production of suck toys up and running, you'd think I had no time to write rhymes, plan trips, keep up on my SOPRANOS and HEROS and make time to hang out with my girlfriend. Not to mention get really fucking stoned. I'm just getting my ducks in a row here. I'm right now on my way to LA for STAR WARS CELEBRATION 4. The big Star Wars only convention. Five fucking days of nothing but Star Wars, give me those Star Wars, don't let them end... It's the 30th anniversary of good old Star wars and I have to go and represent. I got all my standard gear, helmet, turntable backback, space bling, mad CDs to sell as well as the new printed propaganda to pass out. I also have a piece in THE VADER PROJECT, another one of those big group shows where a bunch of artists customize the same piece. This time it's a high-end Darth Vader helmet by MASTER REPLICAS. It cool. It's probably gonna be the coolest thing out there. I am also sitting on a panel for STARWOIDS, a documentary I was in back in 1999 about extreme Star Wars fans. There is mad shit to get ready for all these events. I gotta have all my coordinates set to keep all these fuckin balls in the air. Making all the right things happen at the right time. I gotta make a bunch of moves and keep it all straight in my head. Can't forget anything or it all fucks up. Fate sucks though. This morning I was all set 2 hours before I had to leave. All my gear packed or mailed off. All my arrangements made. House in order, all my disparate loose ends tied, bills paid, checks deposited, orders sent out. My operation in Hong Kong all operating. But this feeling of dread was on me. That constant gnawing fear that something was amiss. That I forgot something. Or what if I couldn't get a cab and missed my flight? Stupid, baseless worries. So I get all the way to Washington DC only to miss my connecting flight to LA. The lines at customer service were so fucking long and I couldn't get a new flight. I'm starting to get "AIR RAGE" even though I wasn't in the air. The electronic check-in thingamajig said I was ass out for a new flight until 6AM the next day. I had to start work at 8 AM so that was not gonna help. I started to panic. The people on line ahead of me were so fucking slow and stupid. I was gagging up black bile. This one fuckface primadonna wouldn't leave the counter until he got a first class seat, this other douchebag was making all kinds of unreasonable demands and the clock was dripping by and I started to combust inside. What good was all my careful planning when dumb luck could just wipe it all away? I started yelling at first class asshole saying "hey guy, be happy you even got a flight, all of us out here are still waiting for you to finish. Stop being so fussy." Everyone was acting out. I was complaining to anyone that would listen. I started talking mad loud shit about what a piece of crap UNITED AIRLINES was. Then the lady behind the counter glared at me. What a shit job having sit there dealing with irate customers all day. I realized that being mad wasn't gonna get me any help, so I sweetened up my demeanor real quick. When I got to the counter I played Mr. Nice Guy and with a bit of patience I got a flight to Chicago then from there to LA. So fast and easy. Suddenly I was so happy and relieved that I just got all at one with nature. I was smiling and floating thru the terminal as if a great weight was lifted. I must have been beaming cuz people kept saying "hi" to me. SO, Three planes and 12 fucking hours later and I'm still in the air, blogging. I will get in at 1AM. Fucking pain in the ass, but so what? This will be yet another great adventure. Hopefully I used up all my bad luck in the beginning...

JUNE 7, 2007: CELEBRATION TIME #4:

I spent the last 8 days in Los Angeles for STAR WARS CELEBRATION 4. Here is the full tale:

THURSDAY: SICK OF IT

SO I'm here at the con and I'm having my doubts. I mean, It feels like it's all been done before. This is supposed to be a big 30 year celebration of the birthday of STAR WARS, but it just doesn't feel epic enough. I mean the fans haven't shown up yet, so I don't know how it's gonna be. But as far as what's being presented, it feels like a big rehash This should be the best convention ever, instead it feels like going thru the motions. I don't feel excited. I feel depressed. Nobody seems to be going all out. It seems like it's status quo. I guess I shouldn't care. I'm supposed to be done with STAR WARS. I never got the recognition I deserved for all my pop culture deconstructionist hip hop shit I've been doing for ten years. I will never be invited to SKYWALKER RANCH. Why do I still need to seek validation from these squares? It's been a great ride, but I don't need it any more. This all seems milked dry. By the end I may change my mind, but for now all I wanna do is get my place at the trough, wet my beak, and get out. I don't care about all the "fun" and "excitement." It's not on.The con starts tomorrow and I am gonna throw on the suit again for the millionth time. I so don't care. That fuckin radio is heavy. I just wanna move my units and go back home, smoke weed til I puke, and edit the new villain video. Watch, in 3 days I'm gonna be so happy I came that it will make you sick. (maybe). But right now I'm just not feeling it...

FRIDAY: HARD OUT HERE FOR THE SITH

Today is the official 30th anniversary of the the premier of the first StarWars movie. I went out and worked the con again today, and I still was feeling kinda of over it all. Rubbed elbows with few bigwigs who continue to treat me like a stepchild. Nothing I see coming from on high is doing it for me. I'm not buying the snake oil today. It really seems like the Makers are getting a bit Hubristic, if you will. Giving less for more. Over confident in their product. There seems little to get excited about in the future. At least that's what I was feeling. But I will say that the fans are cool and always will be. I was feeling bummed by the production of the con, but I was getting mad love from the people. I am involved in a little show on site here called THE VADER PROJECT; Master Replicas Darth Vader helmets customized by 66 artists. My helmet is apparently a hit. I did an interview for TIME magazine as well as some Asian and New Zealand press. I handed out a lot of flyers and sold a bunch of CDs over the last two days until security started getting on my case. Apparently you are not allowed to sell stuff or distribute flyers on the floor of the con. You have to have a booth to do that. If you just do it out there on your own, they call it "suitcasing." (a great term) and its not allowed. I got busted 3 times and almost got kicked out. I promised to stop, but it really took the wind out of my sails (and sales.) If I can't do that I have no reason to be here. I got bummed out. I need to get these things sold. I would like to do it openly, but once again "the man" has forced me into the shadows. I guess it adds to the whole outlaw image of the sucklord, but I would rather just get the damm things sold. SO I went to the "opening ceremonies" for the con, but I couldn't get into it. They had very little to offer as far as news, just a 45 minute presentation over the new StarWars postage stamps, a bunch of free birthday cake for 5000 fans, a guy in a jet pack, and a long line of whoever hyping up what ever. My feelings about StarWars in the future went lower and lower. I was walking back to the hotel, had a quick beer and was gonna go to my room and masturbate when I heard a commotion. There in the back of the hotel lobby was some kind of hubbub. I went over and there was this bunch of dudes drinking and selling all this weird star wars shit. Some type of strange black market. It seems there was a lot of fake star wars bootleg figures made over the last 30 years in places like Turkey, Poland, Mexico and elsewhere that people are really nuts on. There is this whole sub-community of collectors that really dig the fake, low quality, illicit knock offs. I was in heaven. Can you believe that some of these kids toys made in Brazil and argentina were made out of solid lead? That's crazy. These bootlegs were worse than mine. I saw a Boba Fett knock off toy that was a weird soggy lump of brown rubber that looked exactly like a turd. Some of these things were so ugly and misshapen and poorly done, yet so strange and compelling and beautiful. Best part of all, people knew me. They knew about my bootlegs and really dug them. I got a bunch of free shit from people who just wanted to hit me off cuz they liked my work and wanted to support. I got this absolutely horrible blue and silver Bib Fortuna that makes my pieces look like fine craftsmanship. Its amazing! I was floored. I was so flattered and humbled that these people were inspired by what I do. Some other guy came over and lavished a bunch of praise on me for the breakbeats, saying that it got his kids turned on to watching The films. That's huge. I'm so glad that I am having an effect. That is what's inspiring. The fuckin people. The man is trying to bring me down and marginalize me, but the people are down for me and I'm gonna keep giving them what they want, even if I have to get more devious and crafty. I won't be defeated...

SATURDAY: STAR WARS, YOU FICKLE LOVER, YOU....

So okay, I start to really warm up now. I was kind of whatever about what was coming from Lucasfilm but the fans were really amazing. I wish I could go into detail about all the crazy freaks who have all their weird little particular spins on star wars, so many different ways to flip something. I was getting a really great response for my shit, my costume and my music. I kept selling shit and giving cards out, I just got way more sneaky about it. Shit like "okay, slip the money in the helmet" or "okay meet me in the mens room, we'll do the deal." It was like selling drugs. and it sure looked a lot more suspicious than it really was. Kept it up for a few hours and made my target $$$ for the day so it was all good. I spent a good deal of time in the Vader room again. Meeting and greeting. Talking to the press. Did an interview with spike TV with this snarky little blond chick with big tits who didn't know anything about star wars. She wanted to break balls though, and I tossed it right back. It was fun. Then I had a chance to hear a little wisdom from a crazy cat in a wheelchair and an imperial officer uniform. He broke it all down about the Journal of the Whills, and told me all about this imaginary book that Lucas wrote in like 1975 which outlines 12 star wars movies called the JOURNAL of the WHILLS. It is unconfirmed that it really exists and George apparently denies he wrote it. But this sage preacher dude told me that supposedly Hayden Christensen used his access to the Lucas archive to go into a private area and there he discovered a leather bound book that was called Journal of the Whills. He also supposedly took pictures of it. He got caught and it strained his friendship with George Lucas, so they say. I haven't done the research myself, but who cares if its true? I got stoked by the whole idea of it. Just the fact that these people actually believe that this mythological book is out there and they are searching for it makes me excited. It was almost biblical the way he called "It's out there if you look, you'll find it!" as he was wheeled out of the room...
So I was feeling good, I was enjoying the con, how could I not. It was fun. SO I hooked up with my friend from Berlin and we went to see the panel on the new animated CLONE WARS series that's coming out next year. The people that worked on it yakked it up for like 45 mins, they said they weren't gonna show anything, and they didn't explain much. I was like "yeah fuck you guys. I was right, you're slipping." Then they do what they do and they say fuckit, here is a short clip...Why not? And BOOM. It was fucking amazing! The animation is dope, the design kicks ass. Its not a cartoon. It's 3D animation like Toy Story, but with big explosions and lightsabers. And guess what? I got "THE FEELING..." That little buzzed out hit of adrenaline you get when some Star Wars thing blows you away. That sensation you have been chasing since 1977 when life was long and you first saw it. I shuddered, and all was forgiven. I offically Loved Star Wars again.
I was feeling great. I hooked up with my boy MICHAEL KNIGHT in his classic but updated B-Boy Stormtrooper gear and we posed for hundreds of pictures over about 3 hours. Its good to be a star. We were in the STAR WARS INSIDER magazine after Celebration 1 and maybe we will hit that again. It's great how after four times the Celebration is starting to have a history. Its like a Grateful Dead show in a way. People are like " I knew this guy since C1! We were all so innocent then. We didn't know Phantom was gonna suck.! I was the in the mud in Denver when I met you, Duuuude!!!" Its so funny. So that was it. I was back in it and on it. Star wars is forever, it turns out. The new show is gonna carry it further sure, but the fans make it go. You don't really need a movie or a big rallying event to keep the fans coming back, cuz they want to see each other. Its all very "user generated" in a big way. If LUCAS had something new and hot? Well that just adds fuel to the fire. I was soaring on StarWars bliss. But you know, when you're high, you can really get knocked down too, and thats what happened to me.
Every saturday at these things they have a big dance party. like a huge mixer with booze and music. At C3 it was a big production. They had a bunch of bands and this big carnival troop doing fire eating and juggling and fortune telling. It felt like we were in a big club, it just did really have anything to do with Star Wars. I told the people who do that party to let me hit it next time. Make it Star Wars themed. "I'm that guy you know? The Star Wars hip hop music guy. Lets hook up." Well it didn't happen for whatever reason. I extended myself in what ever way I could, but no takers. Okay cool, no problem. I'm sure they got something planned. I'll just go to the party and enjoy myself. So I hook up with my Boys CHRIS GORE, his hot girlfriend, and Den the STARWOIDS guy. We drink some brews and shoot some dope sexy villain shit and then headed to the party. It sounded fun from outside, but when I walked in the room I almost fainted. First off the room was huge, full of chairs and set up like an auditorium it looked really empty with about only 200 people in the front. There was just one guy up on the stage with some CD players and and mic playing shit like Cindy Lauper, Pink, and bad Techno. He kept grabbing the mic and saying "is everybody having a good time?" all cheezy and shit. It was like a wedding DJ up there. No costume even. A civilian. There were huge screens up on the wall and nothing was on them. Hello? There's this movie called Star Wars" Maybe you need to get it up there? Oh, it was sad. It would have been ok if they had tried to do something and failed, but they didn't even try. They made zero effort. we're in LA for Christsake, there are so many dope DJs here, why is this douchebag up there? Wasn't there a Bar Mitzva some where he could play at? Why wasn't Z-Trip up there? If you had him I would understand why you didn't call me. Where were the dancing slave Leias in cages? Where were the Twilek dancing girls on poles? Breaking Stormtroopers? A DJ in some kind of costume? Dope Star Wars video mixes on all those 20 foot screens? They did zero. What made it worse was mad people kept coming up to me and asking "why aren't you up there?' The honest answer was "I don't know." Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I didn't go after it hard enough. Maybe I was so prideful that they didn't come to me first that I slipped in my chance to put myself out there? I felt guilty. I also felt still mad that after all this time the powers don't know about me and what I do and tap me for my skills. It hurts me personally that they didn't think of me to do this. AND I was mad cuz I was just looking forward to a really cool party that was all Starwarsed out. Instead,it was like a junior high school dance. I kept drinking. I felt low. I was ranting and raving in my brain and too wasted to have fun. The music was terrible, so I left. I went back and hit the mattress at like 12:30. it was saturday. Everybody was out, but I was not into it. I kept getting calls all into the wee hours from people telling me about all the parties I should be at, but I just slept thru then all and bummed my way thru the night.....

SUNDAY: SARLACC CHUNKS

I woke up with a bad hangover and a raw feeling. One, I was mad about the party sucking, and worse, mad cuz my bad mood caused me to miss out on other fun. I dragged my ass all the way over to the con and did my hour at H-bro loading boxes. I was supposed to meet a guy from USC to do and interview for the school paper and he stood me up. I was like "ahh, fuck this all." Then I just took my time fuckin around. I was off, my game was off. I was getting lazy. My groove was gone. The convention was getting long. 4th out of 5 days. I didn't know how to keep it up. So the day wears on . I eat some good food. I sell a few CDs and I begin to perk up a little. Then Im back I'm in the Vader room again and I have a chance to see a very high guy at Lucasfilm digging my piece, so I took a shot and went up to him. He was a nice guy. I felt he was a good dude, in spite of a ruthless reputation, so I took a risk and gave him a copy of the Star Wars Breakbeats. Now if he wanted to, he could make that CD go away and prevent me from putting them out. I took the chance that instead see the potential, and it could set in motion a whole new world of Star Wars music projects. And that got me excited. I was all over this con. I chilled with some of the most obscure underground fans and some of the most important players behind it all. I got stoked again. I love this adventure. After it was almost time to close for the day, the reporter who stood me up came thru. I was a little cold to him until he stared talking about my piece. Hit got so into the details and so nailed the concept of it, how it drives right to the essence of the entire Star wars saga and deals on a deep symbolic level with the dynamic between Tatooine and Luke and Anakin's destinies intermingled with legacy of Vader... Etc..Etc. He blew so much smoke up my ass that I forgave him for missing our appointment. Finally at the end of the day we all head out to JIM HENSON studios for the Master replicas party. I rode out there with PLASTIC FUCKER. he's a funny dude. So the party is on, eating barbecue, drinkin etc. Watched the lightsaber contest. All this dudes and chicks got up and performed their choreographed lightsaber routines. It was fun, kinda cheezy, but cool in a way. I hooked up with this 2 man fan club team called EXPERT CLONERS. Expert Stoners would have been a better title. We took the free double decker bus back to the con. We rode on top and it was a cooler night for LA, there was no roof so we got some big wind dipping down the freeway, but it was fun. Back at the hotel we drink a few more, do some big tokes up in the room, and then back down to check on what the bootleg guys were up to. It was still buzzing and there was all different shit this time. Some dude has a bootleg dvd of all the toy commercials from the vintage line. Such a well made collection. There is no official version and there never will be, so its great that fans take the time to put it out, cuz its beautiful. I got a chance to meet a lot of international people too. Since so many of these bootlegs come from other countries, there were a lot of mexicans and turks bringing in their finds from back home. It was quite an interesting mix of people. I was really high, almost tripping in a way. I was just so excited to discover this scene. I was was very awake and was really vocal about expressing my appreciation to all these people to go so far to unearth and preserve all of this strange, half forgotten arcana from the StarWars universe. Then it got surreal. At like 1 in the morning this group of kids roll in with a big bag of old broken down fucked up dirty foam rubber and dump it out. Were all like what the fuck? and they say "it's Sarlacc. It's pieces of the Sarlacc that we dug up." Apparently some archeology students drove out that morning to Yuma Arizona and located the place in the desert where the Sail Barge scene from RETURN OF THE JEDI was shot and excavated a bunch of the left over set. It was mostly Sarlacc chunks and Sail Barge debris. Apparently after they shot that scene they just left the Sarlacc set in the pit and filled it in. It been sitting there since 1982. This shit just blew my mind. Just when I thought StarWars collecting couldn't get any weirder, just when I think there isn't another crazy niche way to be a Star Wars nerd, these bunch of maniacs go and dig up the Sarlacc. They got Star Wars archeology now. It seems absurd, but those little brown hard chunks of worthless foam had a real power to them. If they were sitting in Lucas vault for 25 years that would be kinda of boring, but that they sat undisturbed for that long in the desert and had to be found and raised. That was kinda deep. Like in Raiders when Belloq talks about the shitty watch, " It worthless, 10 dollars from a vendor in the street, but I take it, I bury it in the sand for 1000 years and it becomes priceless!" There was something psychedelic about it. I wanted to take a chunk and smoke it. Some kind of super Star Wars Peyote. When I took my two pieces of Sarlacc to the con the next day and talked it up, it really blew peoples minds. I think there may be a market for this stuff. "yo sarlacc, sarlacc, I got sarlacc here. good shit, 100 bux a gram..."

I return to a huge box of emails and a shitlod of unpacking to do. The con was great, but fading from memory. I have a ton of business cards from people I can't remember and like a grand in cash. It's hot in Chinatown as I smoke my herb, take off some time and clear my desk. Another adventure is brewing and you know I will blog about it as soon as it happens. Stay tuned...