My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

Here’s one idea. Stew gets drunk and pukes up his dinner. Sloan loves Thai food.

J Stew came by and so did Old MacDonald. The plan was to draw up some comics about Chompy, a hamburger that didn’t taste good and was thrown out the window. He whistles when he’s sad because he doesn’t know whistling means happiness. One day a bottle of Sweet Tea Vodka someone used as a piss jug is thrown out and lands alongside Chompy in the woods. They become friends and have adventures.

A test audience consisting of my two roommates revealed our idea to be too similar to Aqua Teen Hunger Force. So we decided to do a comic about Stew-bag’s toilet. The one he keeps throwing cigarettes into as he tries to quit. His toilet has now become addicted itself, and hangs out smoking and musing on life. His name is Sloan, like the valve company that plumbs urinals. He’s a gruff but sensitive old school toilet that uses 3 gallons a flush.
No one’s sure what comes next, but if you got any hilarious toilet situations, leave a comment below!

There’s a Greek cultural festival down by Sean’s house. Food, music, culture, and a bouncy castle for the kids. Only it’s not a castle, it’s a ruin. A bouncy ruin, like the Parthenon.

Was an interesting day but too tired to write about it. Quickly though, the Honduran I’ve been working with, he tells me his girlfriend calls him an elbow when he doesn’t spend money. Never heard that idiom. Then he told me stories about riding box cars up through Mexico. Bandits unbolt part of the track at night and the train has sensors that alert it and the train stops. Bandits kidnap any illegal they can grab and ransom you back to your family for 6 to ten thousand dollars, depending on what country and where in that country you’re from. But if you’re lucky, they tell you to strip nude and they tear open your clothes and just steal your money.

It was me and the Honduran, Noah. We were hanging white boards in an office downtown.

It’s a nation of neurotics. Texting onstage during the karaoke instrumental. Clearing the browser cache to cover porno tracks. Smoking cigarettes in the face of overwhelming evidence it’s manufactured to cause addiction and eventual death.

Old J Stew is trying to quit.

“I went to bed and felt that tiredness in my body as it churned through the smoke. I lay there thinking, ‘This is my body trying to stay alive’. I jumped out of bed, grabbed the smokes and crumpled them and threw them in the toilet. I stood above the little camel treading water and thought, ‘That’s gonna clog my toilet.’”

Quitting has complications of course. You can’t plan for such things. Just remember it’s a whore’s medicine, something you grab as a consolation that is really just using you up.

photo posted from my iPhone

The inside of an old tube radio looks like a cityscape. A new radio is a circuit board – think of that city compacting itself to a nearly level surface. It’s like how the world is compacting itself. A mosque in America for instance. Old people don’t like these new people. Things look different. Take heart, a mosque built near the WTC must mean Islamic terrorists don’t plan on bombing the spot again.

I’ve been reading my Klan book, in the 1920’s this Protestant group was gravely concerned with the influence of Catholics in the U.S. and European government. Hopefully most of us realize in America, your religious affiliation shouldn’t exclude you from running for office or building a place of worship in this country. Of course, the aim of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, like most religions, is to create a group of chosen people who are different and special compared to the rest of the world. How this mentality can lead to tolerance is, as proven, impossible. The only moment of unity is when Catholics and their foe, the Protestants, join hands and renounce the Moslems.

Once we prevent this mosque from being built near a terrorist attack site, we can then work on preventing children under the age of 18 being allowed in a Catholic church, out of concern for their sexual sanctity. Let’s go all in.

photo posted from my iPhone

The Post Office is going bankrupt, why not bring back the Elvis stamp? Or this time, why not bring back Elvis himself? That ought to make some money. If that’s not possible, how about every mail carrier looks like him?

Found this in some garbage the other day.

It’s kind of funny to think about the problems the Klan had getting enough robes.

These photos of a cross dresser fell out of the book, which seems appropriate.

photo posted from my iPhone

photo posted from my iPhone

This may not look like a chai cart from where you sit, but it is. The front end in fact. Those crackers are typical chai time snacks and Chiraag is wheat pasting the wrappers on the front end of the mobile unit. We ‘re about 95% finished as of this evening, but Elliot, our videographer, drank screwdrivers on an empty stomach after his acupuncture appointment and spent the evening throwing up in the bushes. So not a lot of documentation.

That’s probably the last time J Stew will work for me. He hates when I leave him alone on a job and he hates when I work with him because I criticize his performance.
The old boy will be back at Berkeley soon and won’t have time for running around the city jackassing heavy furniture up and down stairs.
There’s something weighing heavy on my mind, and that’s selling off two of my trucks. Especially the bearded lady, my Ford F250. It’s like we went into business together, right from the start she was with me, pulling garbage, carrying boxes, complaining and quitting just as much as J Stew. But she needs to retire. Where does a bearded lady go when she can’t work anymore? Rusty Sunshine says to sell her to Locke. Keep her in the family. I hate to do it, but this week is her last as a city truck.

Car hits motorcycle, motorcycle hits child on sidewalk. Man answers front door to find a Suzuki 1000 knocking. Child was okay, Dad was crying a lot.