This time of year when it oscillates between warm and cool, the sightings of guys in tube socks and shorts here in Southern Cali goes through the roof.

I’m totally minding my business today at lunch, halfway between chewing and just taking time to relax and I nearly choke. It wasn’t any bonehead move I made, but the actions of others. I’m totally at the mercy of the stimuli around me. Not only do I spy one skater with knee high tubes but THREE! Good fuckin’ Christ! And their all hot, tattooed, baggy drawers, big sweaty sneakers and they were all scruffy as fuck… with skateboards! I was sitting directly in the sun filtering through the window on my dark jeans and if that wasn’t bad enough – I’m struck with this image causing me to pop major wood.

So all I could think about today was this image as I headed to Costco later today to pick up all the stuff I need by the metric ton. Milk, juice, allergy medicine, water, razor blades, hot, stocky, rockabilly stocker in shorts and tubesocks… No! No! No! No! No! Those legs. Those meaty fucking legs disappearing into sneakers, tightly wrapped in those socks to keep his calves warm! I white-knuckled the carriage handle wishing I was white-knucking something just as stiff, while he egged me on to sniff, suck, chew his size 8′s while I stuck my throbbing dick deep inside his puckered asshole, telling me how much he needed it…

And then I’m totally caught staring caught in mid-fantasy.

I felt my ears get red and bent down to pick up a palette of water bottles and put them in my carriage and I try to snatch one last peek and he catches me trying to sneak another glance.

Man, I’m such a perv but wouldn’t you keep looking too?

After last weekend’s explosion, which isn’t out of character for me, I took a break from the computer and bought various items to please myself – comic books, clothes, music, and 3 skateboard decks that I plan on making one-of-a-kind pieces out of.

Upon my return to the series of tubes we call the Internet and graciously not making snide remarks to the commenter of my previous post about one of the two most irritating phrases a sentient being can utter, I went looking for something of an exercise for the mind.

Enter the Proust Questionnaire! According to some sighted reference on the web, The Proust Questionnaire originated as a turn of the century (19th) parlor game, designed to find out more about your guests personality, character and cultivation. Not originally called such, but later named so for Marcel Proust who took the quiz at age 13 and then later in his twenties.

Read my swing at the Proust Questionaire here…

Just to let you all know who have sent your worries that I was in harms way and hopes that I was in the clear – I am. The sad part is I can’t say that about the people who live in the outlying areas. You’ve all been watching the news, and at times I feared that things would become worse… Katrina worse, but those fears seem to be alleviated a little bit with the hardworking men and women fighting all the fires besieging the city.

When the fires were really bad, the highways were deserted and the air was filled with small particulates of ash, giving everything a grey haze on everything.

Keep in mind that everything isn’t totally under control yet and if the wind or weather shifts away from the fire dampening ones we are experiencing, things could easily get bad again. 4 years ago we had the Cedar fire, and a following deluge of rain causing the brush, trees, and wildlife to flourish and this helped fuel the current fires.

I’m in the city proper, and lots of people I talked to put on a brave face but I could tell they were just as worried as I was that their homes were in danger. Over 2000 people lost homes, livelihoods, businesses, and in some cases their lives and the news covered it well and surprisingly I found the reaction to it very supportive and organized.

There is nothing more that I hate than the stupidity of others. And the top of that list sits these idiots in tinfoil hats – the 9/11 Truth Movement. This summer I saw a tent set up on the beach in Pacific Beach, while trying to eat my fries, that read “9-11 Was An Inside Job”. The sun was shining, the fries were great, but something about the rest of my day was tainted.

Tonight, while trying to enjoy some witty and topical discussion on the world we live in on the show called Real Time With Bill Maher, some douche-nozzle who is from this camp of retards who thinks the World Trade Center was demolished by a controlled explosion, stands up and starts yelling bumper sticker slogans during a conversation the panelists and Bill were having (and not about 9-11, mind you!) and totally disrupts the show.

It begins with some ridiculous booming voice ordering “Bill tell the truth!” and Bill initially writes it off as heckling and combats the fucktard in hopes of shutting him up. Then Bill returns to the topic and is interrupted again, to which he demands to know where the studio security is as you hear the stupid phrase from the audience infiltrator – “Don’t Tase Me, Bro!” – as he is surrounded.

Bill becomes infuriated as I twist and grip the arms of my chair, choking down the urge to start screaming at the asshole on the TV set. He gets up out of his chair and storms into the audience to remove the jerk, as security finally gets off it’s ass to take the guy out. Now a visual is created that makes this pathetic attempt at some public protest in the wrong venue even worse – a sign is waved about as he is surrounded by security and Bill pushing the back of some person and there is an explosion of paper that makes it look like a cartoon plucking of a chicken.

And Bill returns to his seat to the audience’s applause and my own pleasure – and somehow the guy returns booming about something you can barely understand! Security this time acts much quicker.

Then, some liberal woman has the nerve to scream out about the injustice of not letting this man speak his mind! Clearly she’s forgotten she’s part of an audience that didn’t come to listen to the diatribe of a moron, but an esteemed panel of guests with Bill Maher! Bill points this out, defining for her what the word “audience” means and the crowd erupts into wild applause, shutting this stupid bitch up.

And then on with the show…

But it felt tainted and off after that. Like a guest at a party who gets embarrassingly drunk and won’t leave until physically ejected – that guest can really leave a fart cloud behind that stinks up the joint, ruining it for everyone.

These people make me violently angry. It takes every fiber of my being to not devour people like this, rending their flesh from their bones, as I firmly believe these people do NOT have the right to breath the same air I do. If you are below a certain level of common sense, please do the world a favor and KILL YOURSELF! These people are part of the ever-swirling drain on society that lowers the collective intelligence that allows no meaningful progress in American society that I lump in with the same group of dingleberries who drive SUVs while talking on their cellphone with their mouth’s slung open like extras from a zombie flick, church-goers, and those cock sucking douche bags who think they can fix things in the world by putting bumper-stickers on their cars or a ribbon on their lapel because that’s how they define “sacrifice”.

This is what I’m forced to live with – the dregs of mediocre society that reek of the middle class who create mythologies for themselves when logic fails, too stupid to realize that they are wasteful lumps of flesh with no relevance who push the bar even lower.

As long as they live and breathe, life is a joke, they are the punchline and you too should be angry as hell.

Today I was informed that I’ve been banned so that employees or people trying to surf the web at the common copier place, Kinko’s, can not view my site.

Here’s the message that comes up when they type in my URL:

You have attempted to access a site
that is prohibited or has been blocked
pursuant to Kinko’s policy.

Discuss… I just think it’s funny.

It’s October 10th – Do you know where your Hard To Swallow Comics are?

Well, get on it! It’s 64 pages thick and full-color covers. Not to be missed are the 4 stories by Justin Hall – Tales of the Hard Roger Part Three: Mutiny, I Can Take It, Fluid and Rollin’ Down the River. Also 2 stories by Dave Davenport – Feral: Touch Me I’m Sick and House of F. And then there is also a special feature called Dem Bones by your humble host Drub.

To order, send $11.49 for orders within the U.S.(includes shipping)
or $14.99 for orders shipping outside of the states to:

Dave Davenport
P.O. Box 3031
Los Angeles, Ca 90078

Or go to the Marginalized Publications site and use PAYPAL!

Drop us a line and let us know what you think. I really hope you like it!

There are just some things you don’t ever touch – like cacti, an endangered rain forest, or Donald Trump’s hair. And the same goes for using subversive music or music loved and adored by subcultures to sell luxury vehicles.

It was shameful when The Clash’s “London Calling” was used in a Jaguar ad to lend an air to a car company that everyone thinks is elitist in 1992 – and Joe Strummer weakly explained why The Clash sold the rights to the song as a way of getting what was owed to them after all these long, hard years. I grumblingly accepted it.

But now, here comes Nissan with The Clash’s cover of Pressure Drop to pimp the “Rebel”! Rebel? That’s the name of the car? Even that is laughable. This is how I know there is no God because a just and caring God wouldn’t allow crimes against humanity. Originally, a Toots and the Maytal’s song (which is also wonderful) and also covered by The Specials, and now it’s advertising a butt-ugly car for stupid jerks who drive with their elbow’s because their hands are occupied by a mobile phone and a latté!

Pass me a bucket because I don’t know what end my sick is going to come out!

This is why advertising is evil. Soul-crushing, blood-sucking, offensively evil. I see and hear shit like this and a vein shoots up through my neck and into my forehead – roiling, throbbing, seething with anger. Jerks in the advertising field with extensive record collections need to be stopped at all costs.

Stupid things like this wouldn’t happen if people just made me Emperor.

Pictures of me (note: my tummy is bigger than I thought) and my pal Cynthia in front of the booth I shared and Justin Hall, Steve MacIsaac, and Chuck Conner (writer of the Demonic Sex Comics) at Folsom in a view from the Demonicsex Comics booth.

I’m packed and heading back to San D tonight with my suitcase well emptied out from all the cards I sold! It’s a cool, sunny morning here in San Francisco and I have to get moving to meet up with an old friend for lunch.

I spent most of the time behind the table at my booth so wonderfully and thoughtfully donated to artists like me, only taking a slow plod to head off to the port-o-potties to take the biggest leak in the universe. I’ve got some funny stories, met old college friends, new faces, and lots of thank you emails to write down and put out there.

Once again, I’m so glad to be in the esteemed category and company of such excellent artists and creative people who brought this all together. You guys are the best!!

Until I’m back in Sunny San D – I’m signing out to go for a walk and a bite to eat.