June 29, 2009

Filed under: Comedy — daz76 @ 3:21 pm

I was a Michael Jackson Enabler. Sorry.

As many of you know, I am (was) very close with Michael, even in his last days, so obviously I am totally fucking deved (devastated). Michael and I met at a petting zoo in the late eighties, he was petting a small llama and of course I was petting and studying a goat to see if it was really Satanic. It was just a funny moment and we laughed. We share (shared) a similar high pitched giggle and we bonded over it. He with his llama and me with that fugly goat! What a pair we were.

Later Fondue (I called Michael Fondue and he referred to me as Bookshelf, mutual terms of endearment pause) and I would often explore other outdoor activities such as tandem zip line and once we did frivolous bear hunting where we shot bears (pretty much anything moving on the ground was fair game, but we were primarily interested in killing bears) from helicopters using those heavy duty Apocalypse Now type machine guns. It was fucking amazing, like Tropical Thunder with that guy from Iron man and Less than Zero, but Michael was happy back then. There was never any need to bring his nose and the killing of innocents was soothing relief from life in the mirror. He was comfortable around me without the nose because frankly I didn’t give a shit! Who cares about noses? We were killing everything in sight and hangin’ out on drugs like crazy!

Yes I supplied Michael with huge amounts of drugs. And yes I was the one doing the frequent fast food runs, and yes I often assisted Michael in puking up that fast food a few hours later. It may seem weird to you, but to me, this was normal. We all want to taste things but that doesn’t mean we want them inside us, for life, right? In many ways I played the role of friend, confidant, and health adviser, even though I always thought he was doomed.

Much more will come out about my relationship with Michael Jackson in the next few weeks. Primarily because I was the main meth cook behind the operation. Don’t judge just because of the meth, we were also involved in truly legitimate pharms (pharmaceuticals) and when all is said and done you will see that one of my dear friend Michael’s true legacies will be that of a man who whole-heartedly supported getting fucked up legally, and royally, thus the connection with Prince. Pardon my French but Michael would have hated that statement. But his twee giggle would have belied his acknowledgment of how dark life really can be.

I was also Fondue’s main wig caretaker. I always loved hair and all things furry so it was a natural role for me to fall into. Remember, these were the ET years so everything had to be just so with the hair. Mountains of meth too!

As Michael lay dying I was distracted because I also managed the tivo and Party Monster was on. This was myself and Michael’s (as well as a few other upper echelon hangers on and medics/clerics) fave (favorite) documentary. Oh man we’d get fucked up to that! I burned it on to DVD yesterday so he could check it out over at wherever they are doing the new experiments but he was like, “Chill Bookshelf, I’m getting cut the hell up here”. That’s when it hit me – Am I in the will?

Enough about me. I know you just want an update, some simple facts that have not already been leaked by the press. All I can say is so far, so good. They cut him the hell up and apparently the drug intake was strong. So that’s comforting. My only fear is that not enough alcohol was involved. Alcohol is very cleansing and that was a big routine in our lives as really close friends and confidants.

So hey Fondue – You are going to be awesome now, just stay on the table and don’t worry about the full frontal face smush. Happens all the time. Normal as shit.  Why are they building that huge pyre over there? Why is George Herbert Bush here? Is that a giant owl-like figure (shaped remarkably like Moloch, elite god of human sacrifice most widely known in relation to the “Sacrifice of Innocence” ritual involving the staged murder of African American boys) that they are erecting? Saudi Royalty is arriving… Now someone has procured a large cage full of crying young children like something out of the worst parts of Slumdog. It’s obvious they will be sacrificed. And why the other cage of shackled chimpanzees? What could this signify?

I better go, the ritual will begin soon and rumor is that Ruth Buzzi will start tortu-killing the chimps soon. I never thought I would actually understand the Illuminati, much less be it’s meth dealer/wig stylist but here I am. I saw the 9/11 truth videos and was mildly amused but I can now assure the world that Fondue (Michael, sheesh..) was well aware of what would transpire that fateful day in NYC. In fact Bin Laden was over here the other day fucking off in the pool. He loved the giant water slide! Who doesn’t?

I’ll be fucked if this incredible death exhibition doesn’t make the news. It’s like a Mel Gibson movie out here with all the dripping blood and screaming and sacrificing. If that’s what great Moloch demands then we must hasten to achieve his sacred bidding.

942 words.

RIP Michael Jackson, I’m sorry you died so sick and tired. I feel you.



June 22, 2009

OK this is really the last post

Filed under: What does Daz76 have to say about it? — daz76 @ 4:38 am

Setting up a website is not easy or fun. It takes forever for this server to point itself at that one and there’s a ton of routing and pointing to be done. Being an internet nerd is not my strong suit but I have been assured that once everything is in place it’s going to be rad and not nerdy at all. I’m going to use wordpress, the same thing you’re looking at here, except it will be running inside a host site so I will have more options and a cooler domain name so I can get on with branding this bitch and getting a t shirt up for sale. Yes, this is ideally a commercial venture which is really not so uncommon these days even for rinky dink little blogs like mine. Sure initially it’s a matter of a cent or two here and there but as my gran used to say, “Mind the pence and the pounds take care of themselves”. She was Irish and that was before the euro.

Now you are probably thinking, “What is this dip stick thinking he can do over here? Seen it all man…”. Fair enough I’ll tell you what I’m thinking I can do over here.

1. Blogging. Writing about all the things as I do and hopefully getting published on some other blogs. Not such an outrageous concept, it’s already happened twice. I want to get better at writing and when I do watch TV I often think my writing is just as shitty as most of the stuff on there so why not try to expand into that racket.

2. Art stuff. Pictures and things, original and found. Stuff to look at while you are at work bored out of your mind. I don’t know much but I do know for a fact that there are tons of really bored people faking it at work who are always looking for something new to stare at on the internet.

3. Video and interviews. I love interviewing people and REALLY love being on TV. Unfortunately nobody else wants me on TV so I’m going to use the internet instead. Why the heck not. I may as well mention here that I recently bought the domain name “no reality tv.com” (I did a local public access TV show under that name in 07) and in a few years that will be as good as a TV station if not better. The internet is just a giant network anyway so that one is obvious. Think about how much the way people think about TV and the internet is going to change in the near future. I’d be a dork not to get in on the action. Plus No Reality TV (NRTV) is just a cool fucking name!

The site will be up and running by Tuesday, maybe sooner. http://www.daz76.com. Print out the picture below and cut it into fours. Then take it to your local record store/taco shack/drug den and tack it up on the wall. Thanks!

daz76 graf

June 19, 2009

Last Post.

OK not really, just the last post here. For now. I’ll keep this page around for a while but all operations are moving to:


Thank you for reading this stuff and I hope you will keep on reading at the new site.

While you are here I’ll throw up a quick short story analysis.


“Kansas” by Steven Dobyns tells the tale of a boy hitchhiking to Lawrence Kansas during a summer break from college. The boy is picked up by a farmer who announces that he is on his way to kill his wife and her lover. There is a pistol in the front seat of the truck next to the farmer. The boy arrives safely in Lawrence without incident but he is left unsure of what ultimately happened to the farmer and if he did indeed carry out his murderous plan.

The story continues with the boy growing into a man and eventually taking to his death bed. Here he lies dying in a morphine-induced fog where he envisions the many possible outcomes that could have occurred after his fateful ride with the blood thirsty farmer some sixty years ago. He imagines several scenarios of terrible violence as well as scenarios with peaceful outcomes. When the protagonist eventually dies his son watches on as the funeral home directors put the corpse into a body bag. We learn that the son will loop this moment over and over in his mind for the rest of his life.

In “Kansas” Dobyns addresses a sort of post traumatic stress disorder brought on by the terrifying and life threatening experience the main character experienced as a boy. This can also be seen in the reaction the son has to watching his father die. The story also alludes to the possible lifelong sense of regret the protagonist suffered because he had done nothing to effect a situation that may have led to a brutal murder.



June 15, 2009

Why I am Moving to Iran

Filed under: Comedy — daz76 @ 3:50 am
Tags: ,

So as you know I have decided that the time is right to move to Iran. A few friends and relatives have expressed  concern and outright indignation at my decision so I will lay out some of my reasoning for the move here, let you get inside my head on this one.

Top 10 reasons why I’m moving to Iran.

1. Cheap gas

2. Drugs are legal

3. Easier to visit my cousin Borat in Kazakhstan

4. Persian babes

5. No hip hop

6. They invented everything

7. Dudes run the show

8. Get to wear pajamas all the time

9. Beard connoisseur’s paradise

10. Tie: No boring Jesus/Turbans are awesome

Iran pic

June 11, 2009


Filed under: Comedy — daz76 @ 9:47 pm

Dear Street Carnage,

Wow. You guys don’t know when to quit. I thought we were cool de la, but I stand corrected. It’s one thing to expose me as the mastermind that was able to completely undermine an entire website with the touch of a few buttons, or computer keys as it were, but to publish a letter on your blog re. my ceiling fan that I sent you in confidence is just going too far.

What you have done is disrupt my sense of trust in our already admittedly fragile relationship. You know, trust, rust with a t, Rust Never Sleeps… Niel Young… I thought you people were Canadians for crying out loud! I’m hurt more than upset here, miffed is too benign a word to express my emotion yet outraged paints a picture of me all sweaty and red faced and actually I look pretty good today and the AC is on, but I digress.

Like all good Americans I am an extremely litigious person with a predilection for representing myself in court and I don’t want to take it to that level because frankly I’m a bit busy trying to find my pants. Long story short… I was at a party and this one dude came up to me and asked if he could borrow my pants. I felt there must have been a good if not serious reason this guy needed my pants so of course I obliged. Turns out it was a prank to get me out of my pants as revenge for showing up at the party.

Apparently I wasn’t invited, pretty much the opposite of invited actually.  That group of people had recently grown to despise me for making fun of the music they like, the way they look, where thy hang out, ethnicity etc. I was doing it on facebook so I thought they knew I was just fuckin’ around. Actually I meant everything I said! Jokes on them after all even though my pants are probably hanging from a lamp post on east 6th.

So here I am with no pants, no friends, hungry, tired, and alone. And now this. It’s rich. Really, really rich.

Totally as an aside I was thinking about getting off the grid for a while, going back to nature. I had a lot of realizations about life and who I am on my recent spiritual retreat to the cheap district of Cancun. I was at Chili’s with a local transsexual hooker (nice people, the Mexicans) and I thought, “What am I doing with my life?” The answer was clear. I was high on coke hanging out at Chili’s in Mexico with a hooker, a tranny one at that.

I was overcome with joy at my achievement and immediately went and punched the budget guru/vision quest guide I had hired in the kisser. I let out a terse “Ass wanker” and myself and Monique (that’s my hooker’s stage name) got in a cab and flew back to Austin without filling out any paper work what so ever. Homeland Security? More like Homeland Shmeshmurity.

But yeah, no, I’m not sure about the tennis match on Wednesday. I busted out a few of the strings on my racket playing guitar but it should be fine, I’ll text. Also I can’t find some of my other tennis stuff… You guys seen my balls?

Tennis balls copy

Later days, take it sleazy,


June 3, 2009

Dear Street Carnage re. My Ceiling Fan

Filed under: Comedy,Uncategorized — daz76 @ 3:58 am

Dear Street Carnage,

I was just looking at the ceiling fan in my living room and I was like, “WoooOOOOoow”.

My ceiling fan

My ceiling fan

I never use it! I’m one of those people who gets bothered by the sound and repetitive swirling shadows associated with ceiling fans. The one I have (Oh shit I have two, there’s also one in the bedroom) just hangs out really, doesn’t even act as a light source. I took the bulb out so I wouldn’t smash it on my head when I dance around to EPMD or Dread Zeppelin. The fan I’m talking about is sort of golden bronze, pretty rusty and the blades are brown wood with that bamboo mesh type business you often see in ceiling fan blades.

But the deal with the fan is that a few months ago I remember putting a few empty beer cans on the blades and gently pushing the blades so the beer cans were swirling around in the air, you should have seen it! That was fucking awesome! I think I left the cans up there for a few days. I told this girl I know that I did that and she got kind of stuck up about it, as if my apartment cares about interior design. Plus it was funny.

To be honest I’d like to just remove the fan and have the negative space, let the coveted third floor 80’s style ghetto apartment vaulted ceilingness shine on through. I guess I keep it because it’s a fun looking thing in a Shakey’s Pizza sort of way, cue banjo music, and besides, I don’t really know how to take it down.

That’s pretty much it, I think I already told you about when I put the Lego Star Wars ships up there. Those things were up forever! I remember every now and then I’d see them out of the corner of my eye (because after a while the stuff up there on the blades kind of becomes invisible, like arm tattoos, not!) and I’d take a little Star Wars moment. Good times, good times.

All that aside I’m doing well, probably going to start looking at the fan in the bedroom soon. Not that I’m going to bed!  I’m just going to check it out for a min, see what’s what. Oh yeah – I was going to say – What if everything went upside down? Say a shift in gravity occurs and we all actually do what Lionel Ritchie did all those years ago on video. If gravity was upside down we would have these crazy swirling blades in the center of the floors all over town! It’s sort of funny to me because I have my wits, but kids and the elderly would be fucked. I know you guys are not Vice, all conscientious and shit so I don’t mean to get political, just a heads up.

Aight, check you later, stay cool my mangonians. Let me know if you guys want to catch a movie or whatever, I just got laid off at the insane asylum so I have some free time.

Cheers from Austin,


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