For anyone that’s keeping track, today is the luckiest day of the year 7/7  …and of course that can mean only one thing.  It’s another year in this mortal coil for Ms Angela Ryan.  Yes folks today is the Living Doll’s birthday.  How old is she exactly?  Well, this author does love to bust her chops from time, especially with so many different ages listed all over the internet.  But let’s just say it’s been a while since she lost her innocence …a LONG while.  (love ya, mean it )

Speaking of old.  Angela has been working for ages putting together a rather unique Baroque themed soiree that should be one hell of good time.  Not only should you expect to see locals to dressed in period costumes, this event will feature the provocative and picturesque Darenzia and straight from the stages of America’s got Talent, the ever so posh, Prince PoppyCock.  So pull out your stockings, dust up those powdered wigs and come join Angela this Sunday to celebrate her 21st birthday for the ?th time.

Angela Ryan’s Baroque Birthday Bash

Featuring Performances by:
Darenzia (www.Darenzia.net)
Prince Poppycock (www.PrincePoppycock.com)

DJ’s Curse Mackey and Heather Michelle

Free Green Screen Guillotine Photo Booth

Costume Contest with $500 in prizes!
Ideas Include: Marie Antoinette, Marquis De Sade, French Revolutionary, Courtesan, Executioner, Lady in Waiting, Napoleon Bonaparte, King Louis XIV / XV, Bach, Madame de Pompadour, Voltaire, royal court ladies and gentlemen

Spanking booth by Athena Fatale

Qu’ils mangent de la brioche (let them eat cake!)
Free cupcakes for everyone!

The Church
2424 Swiss @ Good Lattimer
Dallas, Texas 75204

Doors open at 9:00
Admission $5 over and $10 under
free with dog tags or Church VIP

info: www.TheChurchDallas.com
tweet: TheChurchDallas

Forty years ago today a great man was born.  Who might you ask?  Well, if you’re an American, then you know him as Pain Solution.  Live in Europe?  Well, if you know the anything about the world of sideshow or flesh hook suspensions then you’ve probably seen the Head Master.

Although he is best known for being a mutli-talented performer, his biggest contributions have been in the world of education.  Besides teaching the art of suspension throughout the world and running a school of sideshow in Oslo, he has worked directly with the Norwegian medical community to explain the art and science behind pain and to show the positive effects of body suspension.

Yes, today is my friend Håvve Fjell‘s 40th birthday.  Unfortunately I cannot be there to celebrate with him.  However, I will be there in a few weeks for the Oslo Suscon. (In my opinion the world’s best suspension convention)

My Story of Håvve
It was December 3rd, 2000 – I had just finished a suspension performance for Torture Garden .  (Opening for Ron Athey)  During my suspension I had managed to rip my knee and was a bit distressed about how to handle the gaping wound.  I remember sitting upstairs at Body Probe Studios staring at the hole when I notice a tall bald man standing over me.

“Hello Allen, I’m Håvve”
“Nice to meet you Håvve, by chance to do have any sutures?”
Now in all honesty, the question was more of sarcastic joke.  Yes I needed to stitch my knee, but I never expected anyone to have anything that might help.
To my surprise he replied, “Yes I do”
He dug through his backpack and handed me a sterile suture pack.
“Wait.  Who are you?”
“I’m Håvve from Oslo.  We have been chatting online.”

At the time it seemed like a random encounter.  Little did I know that I had just met such an amazing person that was not only going to influence the world of suspension, but become such a good friend.

Happy Birthday Old Man

This story could start with our viewing of the Human Centipede yesterday, but the sake of short attention spans and the fact that it was neither very scary or funny, we will just skip to the good stuff.

It all started around 12:30 am last night.  Brutal Juice was putting on another amazing show @ Lola’s in Fort Worth and I had reached my 3 beer limit.  We were all having a good time, I wasn’t driving, and there were no early appointments on my calendar.  So, I figured one more beer wont hurt.  Right?  Well, I reached the bar at the same time as a friend of mine who proceeded to say, “Let’s do a shot!”  Hmmm, you know, I haven’t seen this band in years and everyone is having such a good time…sure one shot.  She turns to the bartender and orders, “Two Jager bombs with Lone Star backs.”  Christ.  Jager and Redbull at this hour?  Ah what the hell.  Now for those you not from Texas, what we call shots are more like doubles or triples for you.  Not to mention the fact that the bartender obviously liked her.  So, the concoction that was handed to me took 4 large gulps to swallow.  UGH.  *Cheers* *Tap the bar* *Guzzle and Swig*  The Lone Star helped but water was next for sure.

The band played on and we jumped around until 1:30+ in the morning.  Poor Lorena had to get up early, so we hit the road as fast as possible and hauled ass back to Dallas.  She made the 40 minute drive in just under 30   Door to door delivery right before 2 am and it seemed to be the end of a very good night.  I jumped out of her car, said my goodbyes and proceeded into the house to find some food to counteract the liquor in my stomach.

Phone.  Where’s my phone?  Kitchen? No.  Bathroom? No.  Living room?  Shit.  I even checked my truck, which I didn’t even drive, but I had thrown my box of earplugs in there before I came upstairs.  Damn it.  My phone is nowhere to be found.  So, I decided to call it to see if I could hear it ring.  “Hello?” said a familiar voice.  “Lorena? shit I guess I left my phone in your car.  Are you home?”  “No, I actually got in a wreck”  “Are you OK!?!” “Yeah, I just twisted the shit out of my ankle and we are stuck here for a while”  As it turns out, she was still not very far so I got directions and decided to drive over there.  Yes, I was probably over the limit, but not by much. Plus it was less than a mile.  When I arrived it wasn’t what I was expecting at all.  There was a pretty massive wreck down on the freeway.  Shit, now I’m really concerned and I’ve got to figure out how to get down there.

At first I thought, “I should drive down to the wreck on the freeway.”  But then a little voice in my head said, “Alcohol+Police=DUI.”  So, I parked and proceeded to walk/run down to the scene.  You know, I take this freeway entrance all the time, but doing it on foot was WAY longer than I thought it was.  Even at dead run it seemed to take me 10 minutes.  Once I actually got down to the freeway, the cops spotted me and started yelling and shining their flashlights at me.  I think they were trying to get me to turn around but I kept going and ran straight toward them.  (Note to self: Police do not like you walking on the freeway, and they REALLY don’t like you running toward them in the first place)  Yeah stupid move on my part.  They were very agitated when I reached them and if I hadn’t explained that I was there because me friend had gotten into a wreck they prolly would have incarcerated me.

It took a few minutes to explain my situation, but soon the cops disposition changed to from anger to concern and they started making calls trying to figure out if Lorena was alright.  One officer even drove his cruiser down to the wreck to check it out for me.  As it turns out, this was not her wreck and they determined that it was another wreck back on the access road.  “Get in”  Ummm “Get in the car, I will drive you to the wreck.”  OK, suddenly my drunk ass was sitting in the back of police car headed for the location of the second wreck.  We drove around for a bit, found nothing and pulled over next to another cruiser so the two officers could try and figure out what happened to the cars.  Then the questions started.  “What’s her name again?  What kind of car was she driving?  Do you know her number?  Etc”  I proceeded to explain that she had my phone and give him the number.  Of course I can’t hear her side of the conversation, but I can only imagine what she is thinking. “Hello mam, this is Officer ********, I have Allen in my vehicle and he is trying to find you.”  As it turns out, not long after I left my house, they had cleared up the wreck and Lorena had driven back to my house and was waiting outside.

I told the officer, “Hey don’t worry, I will just walk home.”  Really I just wanted to get my vehicle and drive home, but I wasn’t sure how drunk or sober I appeared.  “Nah, no need to walk, I will give you a lift.”  Strange experience to say the least.  If you’ve ever been in a cop car you know that the back seat is not designed for comfort.  It’s more like a hard plastic bench that if you aren’t restrained is very slippery.  Each turn had me sliding left and right.  Also, the plexiglass between the back to the front had no holes in it, but sound seemed to pass through very easily.  At no point did I have trouble hearing him, nor him me. At the time is seemed strange, but I felt it best to remain quiet than to ask stupid questions.  Other than the lack of comfort, the ride was actually pleasant with the officer telling me a story about running off a crack head earlier that evening.

When we arrived at the house, poor Lorena’s eyes were as wide as saucers.  My guess is that she thought I was probably arrested.  Heck I’m sure it looked that way.  But the officer opened the door and my drunk smiling ass hopped right out.  After a little explanation from both parties the officer proceeded to inspect the outside of her car.  Surprisingly for being in a wreck everything seemed fine, or at least what little damage I could see appeared minimal.  I said thank you to the officer and we went into the house to wait for him to leave so that she could give me a ride back to my truck.  Funny thing is that we had just missed each other.  She had found my truck right after I left it to walk down to the freeway.  If I’d only waited a few minutes, none of this would have happened.

OK I must admit I saw these videos on Tosh.0 …but the Black Betty video is just too funny and I had to share. For this to make sense you really have to watch the first video. Well, you don’t have to. Enjoy:

There is actually a lot more to this dream that I can still remember but I will cut straight to the good part, yes pun intended

The palm side of my right hand was all healed up from a deep gash that had happened at some point in the past.  Stitches ran upward along my palm that ended next to my pointer finger.  As I remember someone, I believe it was my aunt that was visiting, was asking me if my hand was healed.  While I explained to her that yes the stitches were ready to come out, I picked up a pair of EMT scissors and proceeded to hack off my left pointer finger in one quick cut.

Looking down at my hand, I suddenly realized that maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.  There was absolutely no pain or blood.  The nub that was still attached to my hand was clean and white on the inside.  The finger, which was also blood free, did have a nice red marrow center inside the bone.  While examining and assessing the damage, my first thought was, should I get this repaired?  I considered asking Ron Garza for help, who in all honesty I don’t remember being in the dream, but I think he was close by.  But, reattaching a finger really is beyond most body mod practitioners skill set.  So, I yelled for my mom to take me to the hospital.

It’s interesting to note, that my mom was not in the dream, but I guess it’s normal to think, “Mommy!” when you are hurt and have done something stupid.

Rick Pierceall was visiting at the time, so we loaded everyone into his Dodge Challenger.  I have no clue what car he drives in real life, but it in the dream that’s what he drove.  I jumped into what I thought was the passenger side, but soon learned that it was a right hand drive vehicle.  Strange, but whatever, I crawled to the left side, everyone else jumped in and we headed to the hospital.

While sitting in the waiting room, which was very dark for some reason, I kept explaining to everyone that I had to get the finger reattached so I could continue to flip everyone off.  I remember holding up my hand to show everyone that now middle finger rather than my pointer was missing.  It seems strange now that the finger switched, but in the dream it seemed to make sense.

Finally, an orderly came to get me and we headed to the back of this rather cluttered office/operating room/laser area.  As he wheeled me through a maze of desks I shouted out to the doctor that yes, I did have insurance.  There was no reply, but at the time I knew they were ignoring me and by saying that it would give them some encouragement to come help.

The room where I was left had an operating table, but lots of other odd devices in it as was well.  One of which was a laser of some sort, nothing like I’d ever seen.  My curiosity got the best of me and I started flipping switches and pushing buttons.  Suddenly the laser started to fire and there were no safety goggles to be found.  I shielded my eyes as best I could until I finally got the machine to turn off.  Knowing a thing or two about lasers, I decided to ask someone about the main use of the equipment.  The guy responded, “Laser” and left the room.  Hmmm, not very helpful.

It was at this point that shock started to kick in.  I remember thinking, “Wow the drugs are taking effect, but wait I wasn’t given any drugs.”  I tried to lay on gurney, but my sense of balance was completely gone.  My finger, which was back to my pointer, started to hurt and the Tupperware dish that held my severed finger, submerged in water with a green bay leaf was getting very difficult to hold.  I would comment that the leaf made no sense, but what of this dream did?

As I proceeded to fall off the gurney I awoke disoriented with a VERY sore finger.  I think it’s been about a half hour now and my hand still hurts just a bit.  Wonder if it’s psychosomatic or if I was sleeping on my hand and the pain was incorporated into my dream.

I really should be heading to the gym then off to Austin for the punk show, but I wanted to share some videos, of which, the first one needs a bit of setup before viewing.

The Story: While on vacation in LaPaz Mexico at the 2005 BMEfest my friend Cere presented me with a very foolish challenge. NOT, “I can drink more that you” With his sheer size at the time, this would have been a losing battle on my part. NO the challenge was, “I bet you can’t make me puke!” Seriously? He was under the impression that I could not feed him enough alcohol as to make him vomit. LOL You know, I’m usually up for any reasonable, and some pretty unreasonable challenges, but this one was just too easy. His small glasses of scotch just kept getting bigger and bigger and his water backs, soon turning into vodka. Poor guy never knew what hit him.

Now that you have the story, thanks definitely need to go to the rest of the evil doers. Mainly of course would be Brian. He recorded the audio while driving us back to the house. Oh and one other side note, up until this point, Cere had been well known for drawing on people while they were passed out drunk, so it was only fair he got a taste of his own medicine …enjoy:

This second video I stumbled upon while surfing the net at the gym. I really don’t think this needs a setup, but I will toss in my 2 cents and give a back story. First, is this story true? Most likely, but I have a lot of trouble believing this girl Em was his “girlfriend” at least in the sense that I use the word. I have traveled quite a bit and even girls that I was just casually dating always knew where I was going. Secondly, when someone disappears, wouldn’t your first thought be, “Are they OK?” My first thought would be to make sure that nothing bad had happened to the person, but then again that’s just me.

Now that said, I will tell this story. When I was 16 years old I was hanging out with this pretty blonde girl. I would give a name but I can’t remember it. I say “hanging out” because I’m not sure if we were even dating. to the best of my knowledge if there was any physical interaction with us, it was kissing at best, but that was 24 years ago and I can’t really remember. Anyway, one night she went out with a friend of hers to the Stark Club (Very famous club from the 80′s) while I proceeded to get drunk at the Twilight Room. (Punk Club) Very long story short, my friends convinced me that she was fucking this other guy and in my stupid drunken state I not only went to the Stark Club looking for her/him. I made multiple phone calls to her house and left messages on her answering machine about how I KNEW she was fucking this guy. The irony? He was gay and she had gone home early. Surprisingly, she never wanted to speak to me again. Go figure

And this last video? Well it needs no explanation or setup.

And this? Hello Kitty Vader is just awesome..that is all…

Dead? Are you sure? Dead like Elvis? Like Paul McCartney? (For those of you who don’t remember the story, the Beatles’s Paul McCartney died in 1966 and was replaced by an impostor) …or was he? Let’s face it, the rich, famous and powerful have been doing bizarre things for as long as anyone can remember. Faking your own death for fun and profit is nothing new…not by a long shot. So the question stands. Is he really dead?

Yes, MJ is dead. I’m sure you didn’t come here to read that. By now everyone in the western world has heard and it wont be long before the fanatics break out in all night candle lit vigils singing off key versions of his songs. Then of course the books, documentaries and movies will start rolling out covering the gambit of “He was the greatest singer/song writer to crazy body dysmorphic pedophile.” Plus it wont be long before the tattoos start appearing.

The King of Pop portraits will be popping up everywhere over the next few days. Let’s also not forget that Halloween is only 4 months away. There will be Michael Jacksons EVERYWHERE, old MJs, young MJs, black MJs, white MJs, and of course dead MJs. And the thrillers dances, if not on All Hallows Eve, there will at the very least a new world record set for Thrill the world.

BUT I digress, last night I overheard a remark that I’m sure was made in jest, but there is a chance, as slight as it might be, that the whole thing is a hoax. Think about it. Michael is poised for a huge comeback, but was he really ready to re-enter the public eye. There are rumors of pending lawsuits and I’m sure plenty of new dirty little secrets ready to be released to the public. Plus, the headlines are already reading the he died in debt, but his unreleased material is worth a fortune. In death he is worth far more than he could ever be alive.

What if MJ is not actually dead but presently undergoing some kind of top-secret plastic surgery overhaul. He could come out of it as a creepier Michael, something new and weird we’ve never seen. OR he could make the transformation into a completely new person to disappear into obscurity. Truth be told, I think he’s dead. But what if? (Image above from the Cyclops Kitten Story)

This little piece almost made it into the Fade Fast Blog, but I’m not really sure if this entry is in good of taste…and since that blog is more about my business than anything else, The Kimberlizer goes here. For those of you who don’t know the back story, here it is:

An 18 year old girl got 56 stars tattooed on her face and now she is suing the tattoo artist saying she only want 1/2/3/the ones above her eye/etc (There are plenty of conflicting stories if you google her name: Kimberley Vlaminck) Long story short, her defense is that she fell asleep and woke up to not one, not two, not even three stars, but 56 covering her face.

Unless this girl was on MASSIVE drugs there is NO WAY she fell asleep during the tattoo. Plus, when it comes to a tattoo like this, there is always plenty of time drawing and/or laying stencils on the face before tattooing. Even if he did it all free hand, there is plenty of repositioning that would need to be done that would require her to move her face and/or body.

Tattoo Artist: Rouslan Toumaniantz

….but anyway, this is not the real reason behind the blog. OH NO. As I mentioned before you can get your fill of reading other people’s opinions on the subject. No, this blog is dedicated to the The Kimberlizer! What is that you say? It’s a truly tasteless flash app that lets you take a screen shot with your webcam and you too can be immortalized just like the poor sleeping Kimberley.

Hilarious? Genius? Horribly poor taste? Hmmmmm…. What do you think?

Last night was quite the bizarre to say the least. My evening actually started off rather mellow. The weather was beautiful and there were two events going on that were both less then 3 miles away, so I decided to take my bike out. Yes bicycle not motorcycle. First, I rode up to the Lizard Lounge to check out Benny Bennasi. I’m not a huge fan, but a DJ like that brings out an enormous crowd and the people watching is usually interesting. I arrived just before doors opened and all my friend that work there were way too busy and stressed to talk…so I ventured on.

My next stop was the warehouse. Someone was throwing a party and a few of the Diablocrats were going, so I decided to stop by for a bit. It was about 9:30 at this point and I think doors were at 11. Warren, Mark and Taboo were all there helping them setup, so I pitched in and helped out a bit. The main goal was to get the hot tub working but sadly the pump was dead…or at least that was the consensus …electrical has never been any of our strengths

So here’s the deal with this warehouse party. It was an 80′s night that was sponsored by Three Olives Vodka. $20 to get in and all the liquor you could drink….and there was a LOT of liquor. HOLY CRAP Anyway, I hung out there til about 11:30 and although the party was getting off to a slow start it had a great vibe and seemed to have plenty of potential. I got word back from Don that Benny was going on between 11:30 or 12, so I was back on my bike to check out the festivities over there. Talk about Mad House…that place was insane.

I ran inside briefly to grab a water and use the bathroom, but mainly I sat outside on my bike and talked to the crew. Like I said, I love to people watch and talking to the Lizard Lounge staff usually makes for a good evening. Unfortunately the guys were busy and super stressed, so after about an hour I decided to roll back over to the warehouse.

To my dismay the place was crawling with police and the TABC. I was always under the impression that giving out free booze didn’t require a liquor license, but obviously that isn’t the case. At this point it was almost one in the morning, so everyone was scrambling to buy beer. (In Texas you can buy beer til midnight every day except Saturday, on the that night sales go til 1am…weird hunh?) People started returning with alcohol and were promptly invited into Mark and Lex‘s loft that is right next door to the warehouse. Now lets see if I can explain this part to everyone. We were all standing in the courtyard in front of the loft. It is gated and private property. The cops walked in and started hassling people about having open beers outside. A few people tried to calmly explain that this "our front yard." Mark on the other hand was drunk and belligerent and was bitching at the officers. So, I grabbed him by the back of his shirt and drug his giggling little self back inside until the po-po were gone.

OK, here is where things got interesting. The cops were gone, the warehouse was empty except for the staff, but people were still hanging around outside and no one was ready to go home. We decided to venture back into the warehouse and soon found out that the police had poured out every drop of alcohol and one of the organizers was practically in tears. Warren, the smooth talker he is, stepped in and came up with a solution. He explained that the party didn’t need to end. He had GALLONS of vodka at his house that he had purchased for his Memorial day party that he could bring to the event. This seemed to brighten up spirits a bit, but I think most of the other organizers were done and packing up. Hmmmm…we had people there and liquor coming back. What else did we need? Music!

The DJ and the high end sound system might be gone, but I had my ipod and the warehouse is wired for sound. It took about 2 minutes of rigging to get everything hooked up and I chose Flock of Seagulls – I Ran to get the party started again. Still not sure if the DJ came back or if there was another sound system in the back, but about 5 minutes later a louder and better sound started up and I turned mine off. It wasn’t long before the place started filling back up and Warren arrived with booze in hand. From here everything just seemed to fall into place. Taboo and I suddenly became the event bartenders and the drinks started flowing. After a bit there were 3 of us tending bar, and the place was packed. At some point the liquor ran out, but Warren the night in shining armor was back in a flash with even more of the liquid evil and the bar staff increased to 4.

Now that I think about it, it was at least 3am before the liquor officially ran out. April, the girl in tears a while back, was now smiling and having a blast with the rest of the folks. At some point the bartenders took a vote and decided to give all the tip money to her. I have no clue how much money she lost, but heck we weren’t tending bar for the money and she needed it more than us. We were all doing it for the party and yeah the fun of pouring.

I know I switched to water at some point because I had to ride my bike home, but sadly it wasn’t soon enough. It’s 3pm and I’m still laying in bad while I type this. I’m sure there are plenty of stories to be told by the other participants, but from my perch behind the bar the event seemed to be a blast. In fact, most of my time there I was hugging people, thanking people and being thanked. You know I remember several "I love you man" moments, especially from Mark AKA Mr Delabooze.

Warren, Taboo, Mark, Lex, the Capoeira guys, the organizers and everyone else that came out, it was a blast! Not sure where or when it will happen but next time there is a RIOT! event, please invite me again for more drunken shenanigans!

With my 40th Birthday right around the corner I’ve been thinking a lot about my life. There comes a time when you realize your actions effect much more than just you in the here and now. If you live a full life your accomplishments, good or bad, should live WAY beyond you. I guess everyone experiences their midlife crisis in a different way. Strangely, mine is the realization that I need to do more for the world and less for myself. Isn’t that’s backwards from most people? Don’t middle aged men normally engage in more selfish activities like buying a sports cars and dating women half their age? …well, I have already done plenty of that over the years …so really it’s hard to complain.

BAD RELIGION – NEW AMERICA

We are just marching toward extinction
with blinders on our eyes
Jeopardizing everything
we’ve learned and come to realize
you call that wise?
Open your eyes America!

***

Hope to see everyone on Friday