BUY THIS BOOK!!!

Early Saturday afternoon.

I'm nursing a vicious wine hangover after attending a drunken Art Department meeting that went on until the very wee hours of the morning. And I rode home on the bicycle! (btw, that was the MOST FUN Art Dept. meeting EVAR) So consciousness was tenuous, at best.

The phone rings. The Dear Husband answers.

He hands the phone to me, it's Hurricane Ken.

"I'm at Powell's right now. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THE BOOK?"

Uhhhh, wha..?

"The art book you're in! I came here looking for cool art books, and I see this roller derby art book and YOU'RE IN IT! HOW COOL IS THAT!? WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING!?"

Well, uhhhh, because I forgot!

Ken gives me a basic rundown of how damn cool the book is, and that I really need to get off my @$$ and get a copy. True dat!

One of the Fresh Meat skaters had also mentioned this mysterious book to me late last week, but again, my memory was a little fuzzy on the details of my involvement. Yes, that would be an EPIC FAIL on my part.

No wonder I'm not famous...I'm too easily distracted and stoopid to work for it.


Here's the deal:

Early this year a woman put out a call to the DIY derby world at large looking for derby artwork. She was putting together a book of derby art from all over the place, and had experience doing similiar projects for bands, etc. So I put together a disc of my crap and sent it to her, along with an online interview.

A few weeks later she puts out another call, saying that she hasn't gotten a lot of response. I got peeved and did a follow-up post saying that I went through a LOT of trouble to put together the disc for this project, so everyone else who had artwork out there had better get their stuff in or else I'd go beat them up or something.

Apparently they listened, as the book got done and published.

Funny thing is, I hadn't heard anything further about it until people started seeing it in the stores!





















I'm told it's got a lot of good schtuff in it, and it's available thru Amazon. BUY IT NOW!!! Or else I'll keeeeeeeeell you!!!!

Reasons

Reasons why you should go to the next Derby Dolls game on Saturday, October 4:

• It's the last regular game this season before the Season Championships in November.

• It's the last game my team will be in for the season.

• I'll be there.

• I'll try to NOT get kicked out or benched due to egregious penalties.

• A 17-foot tall mural of the below DORKTASTIC photo will be unveiled for your viewing pleasure:

Yeah, no sh!t.

The above photo has struck a chord with the guys who do our amazing bout video intros. They have a helluva sense of humor, I must say.

They're painting a HUGE mural on one of the main inside walls of our warehouse, featuring some great action shots of our skaters.

And that photo of me.

Why that photo?

Because I look like a big, goofy idiot.

Which is OK, since there isn't a photo of me where I don't look like a big, goofy idiot. I'm just amused that other people find my visual goofy idiocy amusing.

By the by, that particular photo was taken while I was leading a Fresh Meat practice. Apparently I was demonstrating how to not be a total wussy princess on the track. So Rinkrat managed to time it perfectly where I look like a total wussy princess on the track! Way to go!

I'm not actually complaining. It's one of those things where I can only shrug my shoulders and submit to my fate of being a doofus. I mean really, that photo is COMEDIC GOLD. I just hope that if there's reincarnation that I'll be more photogenic in my next life!

Oh, here's the bout promo for the next game. More dorkiness from moi.

Quick Breather

I finished roughing my freelance hell, so I get a day or two to breathe before I get the board back, address the notes, and make the whole mess somewhat legible.

I was able to finish my duties on this in the meantime:




















I ended up choosing the final color palette so that it didn't look like Xmas thrown up. Go, me!
And wait til you see the back of the shirt...it's gonna be a collector's item for sure! Unfortunately I had little to do with the artwork involved in that...I just threw the text together and made it into a file that the shirt screeners can deal with.



Last night the Dear Husband and I attempted to go on a bicycle ride with a group of "fixie" riders. It was called the "Chill Ride" and started in Venice.

A word about fixies: they're not the "casual" bike rider. They're serious. They have ridiculously lightweight racing-style bikes, no gears, and usually no brakes. When we rolled up on our comparitively heavy bikes, complete with gears, brakes, and bells...well, let's just say we didn't fit in. But we were game to try and see if we could keep up.

Things started out fine. The DH was near the back of the pack, I was in the middle. I was keeping up just fine on the Raleigh, when I did an apparently stoopid thing: I tried to switch gears.

Which caused the chain to disengage from the front sprocket.

WTF?!?!?

This has happened before, and I've figured out that if I shift gears too fast, the bike hiccups and revolts.

Anyway, I had to stop. The DH had to stop. He picked up the back end of the bike while I re-engaged the chain, cussing all the while.

When we were ready to roll, the Chill Riders were gone. GONE.

Thankfully we knew where they were going, but we didn't know which route they were taking, so we faked it by taking the beach path to the first stopping point.

We finally met up with them at a pizza place in Manhattan Beach. By the time we'd gotten there, they'd been chilling for a good 20 minutes or so. They hauled @$$, basically.

I probably could've kept up with them, as my bike stopped throwing its chain because I stopped shifting gears. The DH was not up to the challenge, however. He was tired and sweaty and needed to rest. So we sat and ate some pizza and waved the group off as they wound their way down to Hermosa Beach and then planned on racing back to Santa Monica. We then made our way back home...me in the lead, the DH trailing behind, which was sometimes scary when I couldn't turn around and easily see the headlights on his bike.

So we need to find rides that are faster than parade speed, but not as fast as a fixie ride. I used to go on the Midnight Ridazz rides, which accomodated a wide variety of speeds and bikes. But that's not a Westside ride. One guy in the Chill Ride group suggested a group that's cruiser bike-oriented. Maybe we'll check that out.

In the meantime, I plan on riding the bicycle to the Art Department meeting scheduled this Friday. Another ride to Los Feliz. Woohoo!

Pandora's Box

The internet is feeding my latest addiction very well. A little too well.

Since the Dear Husband bought the Raleigh Retro-cruiser, I've been obsessed with finding cool accessories for it. Part of my search sends me to Craig's List and their bike forum. Where there's a lot of cool bikes for sale. Such as:

This 70's Schwinn Breeze:














A Raleigh 3-speed cruiser:















A classic Schwinn cruiser:















And another Schwinn cruiser:
















Seeing all those old bikes is akin to a sex addict looking at p0rn all day. It's nutso.

NO, I don't actually want to buy another bicycle. I have three already, fer fuck's sake. But goddam, there's no harm in looking, right?!?!?!

Well, except that it's distracting me from getting my freelance done.

It's hellish freelance...just about every scene is a crowd scene. ARGH. I hate that! So having to think the scenes out takes forever. And when my mind gets bogged down(which is often), it's back to Craig's List and Bike P0rn galore to distract me until my brain reengages in life again.

I can't wait to get my work done so that I can just go out and ride the bikes I already have.



I got a special shout-out of sorts from DF, reviewer of Derby Doll bouts for losanjealous:

9.33pm. The score may not be close, but the ill-will contest remains finely poised. Someone is ejected for a post-whistle foul so egregiously violent it could only be Tara Armov. Then, to my surprise, Bombshell Betty gets the boot because … um … okay, here’s the truth: my derby dependency has caused me to attend god knows how many games in the past year, but I still have no idea when or why or how fouls happen. Apparently there are sanctioned versus non-sanctioned ways to engage in high-speed, full-contact brutalism.

The referees should be very proud of the use of the word "egregious" in the above review, as its their favorite word to use for bad skater conduct. At Rollercon, they even started a drinking game during a Banked Track Rules Roundtable when the word kept cropping up every other sentence or so. If I'm going to be a heel, I'm going to be an egregious heel.


Redneck Theater updates will come soon.

Random Stoopid Thoughts

Still freelancin', so no artwork today.

But I'm in Goof-off Mode, so here's some random stoopid thoughts:


This photo looks like it's from last Saturday's game, but it's really my reaction to the toppling financial institutions. People are saying we're headed for another Great Depression. It sure seems that way, and I must admit I'm a bit baffled on how this could've happened. It seemed inevitable what with the crazy spending, didn't it? We went into this with eyes wide open. It could've been avoided.

I look at my parents and my inlaws and see people who grew up predominantly broke. And the way they grew up affected the way they raised their kids. Both the Dear Husband and I were raised to be "thrifty" as my dad calls it. "Cheap" is how my mom terms it. But it worked, and it seems oh-so simple to actually live within one's means. I guess not enough people got that type of upbringing, eh? Only think of the short-term and screw the long-term, even though the sh!t has gotta hit the fan at some point, and it looks like that time is now.

So here I am, saying, WTF?!?!?!?!?!? to the world.
















My cats crack me up.

Their cuteness is full-throttle most of the time, but they exhibit different modes of cuteness.

The diabetic cat has a casual, unaffected cuteness. The type of cuteness that's just natural, for lack of a better word. Whenever he's awake, he purrs contentedly. Whenever I pet him, he gives a happy whirring sound and demands that I pet him more by him petting my hand with his paw. Yeah, I know! He's completely comfortable in his cuteness, and his comfort makes me comfy, too.

He's just been diagnosed with a thyroid problem, and I'll have to start him on medication for that. I'd be worried or annoyed, but the little fucker is around 17 years old, so the vet and I figure he can do whatever the hell he wants.


The other cat is cute, but he works for his cuteness. I don't know why, as he's perfectly cute without trying, but he has that Eddie Haskell streak going on, so he pumps up the cuteness much like a struggling actress pumps up her value in this pit of Hell known as LA by getting cosmetic surgery done even though she's just fine without it.

This cuteness manifests itself in his rubbing up against any doorway, table leg, or human within visual range. His purring is loud, but is more forced. He waits for opportune moments to tip himself over and flop onto his back, tail twitching coyly. He meows at us whenever he feels he's being ignored. Which is often. He likes to cuddle much more than the other cat, and he takes full advantage of that.

He's also a true copycat. He follows the other cat around, copping his sleeping places and his food. When the Angriest Cat in the World was alive, he'd do the same to her, too. He's such a jerk! But he's my jerk.


Alright, I think I've goofed off enough. I've almost regained my will to live after the Cold from Hell from last week. Today's the first day I haven't had to suck down a bunch of Sudafed to keep my sinuses from overflowing with snot.

And look! Hotpants!

Consistencies

Despite the roller coaster that can be life, I suppose there's something to be said for some things being consistent.

Even though I'm still sick, I played a pretty good game with my team last night.



Until I got kicked out!!!

Yep, AGAIN.

My parents would be so proud!!

I wonder when the betting pools will start whether I'll ever be able to make through an entire game without either getting thrown out or benched.


















I thought I played pretty good, despite everything. My nose was running like a faucet, so I had to pump myself up on "performance enhancing drugs"(e.g. Sudafed...the real stuff!) to make it through the damn day. I was HIGH. And making hard hits. Unfortunately my timing was a little off...the penalty that got me thrown out was a typical one: I hit the opposing jammer as she was calling off the jam. But she went down HARD and the crowd said a collective, "WHHHHOOOOOOAAAAAAAA!!!!!!"

I don't regret it because I insisted on having fun. And hey, I made it three-quarters of the way through the game!

The crowd reaction to that particular hit was interesting. I had our head of security come up and give me a "congratulatory" hug. I got the usual comments of, "You did that so you could start drinking early!" Various high-fives from friends and strangers alike. The one that stood out the most was a guy who excitedly came up to me saying that he used to play hockey and hadn't seen a hit like that in years and he liked watching girls do that kind of thing.

BOO-YAH!!!!!!!!!

So what if my team lost by, uh, what, thirty points? We still looked good, our defense was rather impressive, and the crowd loved it. They even boo'd their usual favorite from the other team when she started showboating when it was clear that we were down for the count. Wow! I think my team got more applause than the other team when they did their post-game lap about the track, too.
















So we have one more game left of this season, in three weeks. I think as a whole the team is both relieved and disappointed at the same time. I know that going in expecting to have fun is, well, more fun than stressing out about how we have to win because of Championships, blah blah blah.

Then again, as I always say, Winning is Fun!

Ah well. We'll see what happens next season.


We came home to Beavis having a party at the Beavisphere. Another consistency...he being a total jerkface. I almost called the cops, but didn't bother when the rambunctious levels weren't being raised.

So today I'm trying to start to catch up on freelance while the Dear Husband succumbs to the Cold from Hell. That reminds me, I gotta remind him to try the Elephant Gun in a Bottle so that he can get some rest.

All photos are by Michael Zampelli, aka RinkRat. He's rad.

Ughghfhghghghfhghfjhdhghghhfh...

I still feel like crap.

Actually, I feel like I've been beaten with a sackful of oranges and left for dead as payment for the money I embezzled off the local Mafioso at the racetrack.





















And that's an improvement from Tuesday.

Yesterday I went to the doctor. He thinks I just have a regular cold and not a bronchial infection. But he prescribed me some Z-pac and what I'm calling a Bottle o' Elephant Gun, aka cough syrup with codeine. That stuff will knock you the F*** OUT, as Ice Cube would say. I slept like the dead alllll day after administering a couple of doses when I got home from the doctor's. And when I say "allll day", I mean ALLLLLLLLL DAY.

The first dose was in the early afternoon. As soon as I started to drift off, the neighbor's yip-yap dog from Hell started barking at whatever wildlife is outside(the damn dog never barks at people who are, say, trying to break into the neighbor's house. It only barks at other animals. THAT'S NOT VERY USEFUL. And it's extra annoying because it barks right outside our bedroom window. I might have to start another blog about it!), so I writhed around, and stomped to the den where I displaced the diabetic cat and snoozed away on the futon.

Five hours later I woke up and zoned out for the next five hours. Then I took another dose and slept through the night with no incident.

If that's what hibernating is like, I want in!

I don't think I'll be skating tonight at the last practice before the game. Hell, I'm just hoping to be sentient enough to try to start catching up on the freelance crap. Yikes.













Fight Crew is down its top three players for this game: Broadzilla, Tawdry Tempest and Kubonator. Broadzilla's going to be out of town, and Tawdry and Kubo are injured. So I HAVE to get better by Saturday.

Good times!

NO PRESSURE!



But to end on a good note(at least for the ladies...you boys will want to skip this)...

Check this out...a former Derby Doll skater who went by the name Kid Vicious stumbled upon my Classic Hardware goods on her own accord and wrote a blog piece about it! Isn't that cool! The rest of her blog is pretty damned interesting, too. She's a writer by trade and is getting quite popular. She even used one of my painted toilet seats in one of her short films! So now you can say you knew her Back When...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm going to be eligible for the Worst Timing award, if there were such a thing.


Guess who's getting some sort of bronchial mess from Hell...AGAIN?!?!?!?
















I'm so freakin' PISSED and sick right now it's making my head hurt.

It started coming on yesterday, but I was able to skate at the rehearsal scrimmage.

I sucked, but I skated it with no injury.

However, today I had to resort to cough medicine that's making me zone out and fall asleep for two hours at a stretch. When I'm awake, I just sit and zone out. My head hurts, my ears hurt, and I can't breathe worth a damn.

Not good for the derbys, REALLY not good for the freelance.

















Hopefully if I hole up at home and get some major sleep, I'll be skateable for Saturday.

I hope I hope I HOPE!!!!!!!

That pretty new bicycle can't help me get out of this crap, can it?

Just freakin' kill me now.

Squeaky Wheel

Sometimes it pays off to be a whiner, even on the internet.

I haven't been in the best of moods due to lack of work, getting into trouble because of my big mouth(or fast typing fingers, as the case may be), going off of morning energy drinks, and the cats being jerks about their food.

But I was taking a "fukkit" attitude towards life: I always get into trouble, so I just gotta let it roll off my back. The caffeine withdrawals are subsiding dramatically, and I just picked up some freelance that'll kick my butt time-wise and doesn't pay worth a Ca-RAP, but it'll keep my chops up storyboard-wise. More on that later.

So...

Yesterday I woke up disgustingly early(thanks, Neighbors with the Loud Pet Menagerie from Hell!) after going to bed disgustingly late because I had a cup of coffee after dinner the night before. For some wacky reason I thought that I hadn't detoxed enough from my morning routine so that the coffee wouldn't have any effect on my sleep habits. I WAS WRONG.


I groggily went to derby practice, leaving the Dear Husband to his own devices.

His own devious devices, it turns out.

Practice goes OK(well, other than the fact that I skate like sh!t when I'm horribly sleep-deprived) and I come home to bathe and zone in front of the tv. Which I do to great effect, I must say.

The DH comes up behind me as I'm zoning away, and asks what my plans are for the rest of the day.

You're lookin' at 'em! I mumble.

OK he says, and wanders off.

Zoning continues unabated.

The DH comes back and says, Come here, I gotta show you something.

What is it? I spacily ask.

JUST COME HERE he sternly says.

Oh, FINE.

So I grumpily wander out of my lair and find this:





















A NEW BICYCLE!

The Raleigh Retro-7 bicycle that I was drooling over last weekend!

HOLY CRAP!!

Why did you buy this?!?!? I didn't buy it because I couldn't afford it!! I say.

Because you wanted it, and I'm employed with money in the bank, and you had a sh!tty week! the DH replies.

OMG.

I'm floored.

And this is the backstory I got:

The DH had gone out on his new bicycle while I was at practice. On a lark, he went to the bike place that had the Raleigh to see if it was still there. It was, so he bought it! They couldn't deliver it until the end of the day, so the DH came up with a Devious Plan to get the bike home.

As soon as I had stepped into the shower to wash off the post-practice derby goo, the DH literally springs into action by rushing to the back room to grab the bike rack, attach it to my car, and drive to the bike place to pick up the Raleigh.

He picks it up, packs it on the car, drives back, parks down the street, and stealthily creeps up the driveway with the new bike and parks it in the living room.

He did all this while I was home showering and whatnot.

AND I DIDN'T NOTICE!

D'oh!!
















Don't I look overjoyed trying out the new bike?

















It's definitely different from my other bike, and it's rilly kewl-lookin'!



I spent the rest of the day finding kewl accessories for the bike, so now it looks like this:
















I took off the dorky reflectors on the front and back, and replaced them with actual lights for nighttime riding.

I added the white metal basket and a HUGE bell:

















The bell sounds like a doorbell; it's great!

I want to find a more retro-looking light for the bike...the one that I bought is too modern looking.

I took the bike for a test spin along the Venice boardwalk late in the day yesterday. It was glorious! Handles well, shifts great, and is comfy. Used the bell a lot along the bikepath...despite the tourist season being over, there will still a lot of idiots out and about.

So I'm a happier person today...and I think even the DH is happy, too!

OK...

Day 3 of No Morning Energy Drink/Caffeine/Whathaveyou:

I think I'm going to live.

Still headachey, the moodswings are still in full effect, but the fog is beginning to lift just a leettle bit.

Strange side effect: my strength is piss-poor for my morning arms/ab routine. Hmmmmm. Hope that changes and pronto! Tonight I'll find out how I do at derby practice.

Another side effect: I'm hungry.

ALL THE TIME.

EVEN MORE THAN USUAL.

Yeah, I didn't think that was possible, either.

I hope to have some sort of "normalcy" by the game next week.



Here's my contribution for the SNIFF shirt this year:





















Don't know about the color scheme, but that's easily changed.



The past few days I've been endlessly listening to some mash-ups by Party Ben. It's really cool to download an hour of music to just groove to. I discovered him through one of our skaters, Gal VanIZed. She discovered roller derby thru the Dear Husband's brother-in-law, who apparently talked up this alleged mere hobby pretty good. She's a damned interesting person, who includes hypnosis on her resume of Cool Stuff She Does. Her husband is now one of the league's Official Photographers and has a league fan site. Ain't that neat!

Now I must fight off the urge to nap. I won't let the lack of caffeine win.

New Bike

The Dear Husband got a new bicycle over the weekend.

The Saga of getting said bicycle should've been oodles easier than it was. As in, just go to the store where we got our last bikes and see if they have another one like the one that was stolen.

Nah. That wasn't the plan.

We went to a couple other bike stores that are closer to our house. The selection of the "comfort bikes" similar to what we have were pathetic, if they existed at all.




Argh. The DH was getting frustrated, and I wasn't too happy either.


Until I found another bike that I wanted so bad...




















It's a Raleigh Retro-7...a retro-styled cruiser bike with gears. And fenders(my current bikes don't have fenders...annoying when it's drizzling or when I go through puddles)! The one I saw was white with a darker blue than the photo...it called my name, oh yes it did.

However, one look at the price tag made my dreams of riding this beautiful monster to the grocery store or the beach dissolve into nothing. DAMN me for not having a job right now!

So when the DH was unsuccessful in his bike search, I had to tear myself away from the Raleigh and we eventually went to the store where we bought our last bikes.

Which is where we should've gone to begin with.

We walk in the door. The place is bustling with activity around us, oblivious to our existence. I take the lead and stride aisle by aisle past the mountain bikes, the racing bikes, and the hellishly expensive cruiser bikes.

I turn down the last aisle, where there was a very small selection of comfort bikes. I scan the row of bikes, and there I see It.

The DH's New Bike.

Same size, same brand. BUT, in all black.

IT WAS MEANT TO BE HIS.

I think the DH had to ponder the purchase for about 45 seconds before deciding that this was fate smiling down upon him, so he bought that thing right away.

While the bike was getting checked out by the mechanics at the store, the husband bought a couple of accessories for the new bike(all the rad lights, fold-up baskets, etc. that he had on the old bike were stolen with the bike and he had to reorder most of the stuff over the internet)as well as a fatter lock for the damned thing.

He happily rode it home, and won't take it back to Santa Monica anytime soon.

Hopefully he'll keep this one mucho longer than the last one.

The Fog Rolls In...

Sunday morning I drank almost two huge cans of Rockstar energy drink with no effect on my awakeness level.

What added insult to injury was that during brunch I had one cup of coffee and I felt wired for sound on the way home.

I decided Sunday night that I need to take a break from having an energy drink every morning, and so I started this little "detox" yesterday of cold turkey stopping with the energy drinks or coffee in the morning.

I'm in freakin' AGONY.

I have a constant headache, my brain feels like it's in a thick fog, and I'm really, REALLY cranky.

Isn't it said that the first three days of cutting out caffeine, nicotine, etc. are the worst? If so, then tomorrow will be the last painful day on the agenda. For everyone's sake, I hope that's the case.





















To add to the fun...

I'm having a battle of wits with the cats.

And they're winning.

Dammit.

I think because of the humidity, they're not as enthusiastic about their food as they used to be. I can kinda understand...canned cat food smells gross when it's left out in humid conditions after a couple of hours.

However, the diabetic jerkface cat needs to eat or else his diabetes isn't well-regulated. It's made life frustrating for the both of us, unfortunately.

Anyone want a couple of used cats? They're kinda cute! I'll ship 'em anywhere...airholes optional!