(click pic)
A video of the strange and spooky noises our old house makes late at night here in the piney woods.
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Musical slideshow video of my blog illustrations.
]]>Experimenting with a remix of Paul Robinette's (aka Renetto) DMCA hip hop song and video about getting his videos flagged for copyright violations (remixed with permission). Distributed by Tubemogul.
]]>Praying to God as if ordering junk food at the drive-thru window. Distributed by Tubemogul.
]]>White Rhino's Homeless Tips #7. This episode: My homeless attorney explains the speculative value of buying and living in a charity car. A series. Distributed by Tubemogul.
]]>A true story about the drive-thru fast food cheese that would just NOT go away.
]]>Prose about loneliness and dancing with a refrigerator door from my Baldheaded Poetry series.
Cold Dance Partner
by Jolie Blond
05/19/02
Saturday night
and I'm dancing with the
refrigerator door
because when I'm happy
I have nothing else to dance with.
Realizing this
takes all the fun out of dancing
with the refrigerator door
and the music in my head stops
and I shut the refrigerator door.
Wide awake
at one o'clock in the morning
on a Saturday night
and no one to talk to,
nowhere to go.
I have
a vague recollection
of a life more exciting
than one a.m., music in my head
dancing with a 'frigerator door.
I fought my way
up out of the mud,
off of the street, out from
under that homeless bridge
for this?
For sanguine safety?
For shelter from the gates of twilight?
For a banal
and benevolent place
to store up food?
I had
access to women
when my life wasn't as safe,
as predictable, as sheltered
from dark what ifs.
The Street
taught me ferocious respect
for the present, the moment,
and women were attracted
to that ferocity.
Let me tell you,
if there's any doubt
in your mind,
a refrigerator door
is a cold dance partner.