Banner Jump Joint...

GOVERNMENT CHEESE from The Banner Jump on Myspace.

Butcher Babies Win BBaked Award for Rock Costume

Daddy Like...

Anxiety Level Rising, Irritation Level Keeps Pace...

So, this fucking Trump thing, it just won't go the fuck away. What started as a joke, progressed to a spectacle, has ballooned into a full-blown, fucking, nightmare. Jesus Trump, do us all a favor and hang yourself in the closet while masturbating. Oh, I know. Trump only masturbates in a room full of mirrors, but a guy can wish. The thing I'm really struggling with, is my utopian vision of democracy. You know, everyone has a vote and a valid point of view. Well, I'm rethinking that. I'm starting to feel like the fucking idiots are dragging me along on their stupid idea express and God-damn it, I want the fuck off. I don't like the idea that a dumb-ass that can't extrapolate their plan to it's horrific, if not apocalyptic, bloody end, so I have to be involved while they "try" it. Just because you are too stupid to see Trump as the grifter he so obviously is, doesn't mean I should have to let him make America fucked again so that I can say "see asshole?" I'm starting to think that perhaps the intelligent 25% of our country should use this advantage to oppress the 75% of jack-asses and shut them the fuck up. It wouldn't be too hard. Oh sure, we'd have to suspend the constitution and impose some kind of emergency marshall law, but if that were ever warranted, now is the time. If that prospect makes you uncomfortable, how about dividing the country into two, and letting the conservatives govern their inland empire the way they see fit, and us liberals will run the coasts the way we want, and in 25 years, compare notes(If we haven't had to destroy them). Oh sure, they would think they had the world by the short hairs, due to their media spewing propaganda instead of news, but when they see how well our system of common sense has done for us, maybe they will come around. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! I know, ridiculous. They haven't let reality intrude on their fair and balanced view of the world yet, no reason to think they ever will. I guess the only thing to do is systematically exterminate them. We'll call it a "fair and balanced" approach to the stupidity epidemic. If we wrap it in an American flag topped with shiny new Jesus-fish and play some country music in the background, serve pizza with hot dog crust, free ice cold Bud, and 'Dew for the little ones. Keep all of the participants lily white. Screen for GBLT types. Live stream it on Facebook. Bill it as, "They're going fast, so don't miss out on your chance to own your own little slice of heaven!!!!" Then send 'em to the afterlife. Good luck and goodbye!

Here is another re-mix off of my album 15 on One:

2 In A Day...

Here Ya Go-

New Joint

A little ditty to get you through your fucked up day....

Ahhhh. Memories. My Kramer....REWARD!!!!

The Guitar Paul Billings III stole. He is currently in Kitsap County Drug Court

The Serial Number

Paul hasn't paid for this crime...Yet!

Which was stolen from my house in Port Orchard, Washington on or around July 18, 2013. A little dirtbag named Paul Billings took it while I was in jail. He pawned it somewhere, possibly at Trader McGee's in Bremerton, Washington. The guitar is obviously a custom job, done by myself, but the value lies in the history. I obtained this Kramer in 1995 from a good friend who had it since the original owner lost his life. The guitar was purple and pink, but under all of that eye shadow, this thing had balls. I stripped it down and had it painted black with gold flake at Al's Used Cars and Trucks. He also clear coated it with an automotive finish. It remained that way until 2008 or '09. I then started screwing around with colors and artsy finishes trying to find this thing's hidden identity. One day, I threw it on the table saw while listening to "What's next to the moon?" by AC/DC. A couple of cuts here, a little off of the top there, and voilà!!!!

This is from 1996, Right after I painted it black.

Pre-paint circa 2006

I had found the magic spell to release the inner bad-ass that this Kramer always possessed but was suppressed. Impressed, I had to rest. I'd done my best, and passed the test. And the rest? Find a color that stressed it's blessed, this guitar, from way out west, caused shy, responsible twenty-somethings to crowd up to the stage and forcefully share their ample breasts. I was impressed. No no no, don't get dressed. Let's all regress to mindless sex, and give these breasts the best 'fest I'd guessed. 

SuperCell show at the Ray Waterman RV and Rodeo show 2001

This is from 2007.

Ah, but I digress. When the guitar had found it's true shape, I then painted it using closely guarded technics I had developed over the years.(Unfortunately, the guitar itself was not as closely guarded). I quickly did a pro-setup and added it to my arsenal of six-string murder weapons. Soon after that, on July 15, 2013, I got busted for passing off fake Facebook/Copywrite posts when I made a fool out of the wrong Sheriff's social media liason. While my lawyers were sorting through the legal minefield, Paul broke into my home and took everything he could carry in his tiny, child-like arms and sped away to buy his heroin. Many things were stolen. My MXL microphones. (4). My M-Audio Black Box. My Alesis Multimix 8 mixer. My Ibanez bass. My Yamaha acoustic. etc. The thing I want back the most, the thing that's easy to identify, is that Kramer. The serial number is on the screw-plate easily seen in the photo. Okay. I'm outta time. Bottom line. I want this guitar. I will pay the person who has it, for it. I will give a reward to the person who finds it and informs me where it is. Let's start the bidding at $250.00 reward, and $350.00 for the guitar. We'll negotiate from there. Aight? 

Interwebs, come September....

Shout out to Frizzo, for taking care of bizzo. Now, I can air my dirty laundry on the interwizzo. Fo shizzle. ENOUGH! If your cracker-ass mind was unable to decipher my street-jive, I was merely rejoicing at the fact that the Clover Valley house has high speed internet service, and a decent cable package. If that wasn't enough good news, my girl called me up and said, "come and get me". So I did. And the girl got, got. So I'm going to run up to Wallyworld and grab some milk for my ice cream tonight, and my Fruit Loops with Mutherfucking Marshmallows, tomorrow morning, bitch.

The summer has left with a pussy-like whimper. That's okay. Fall is an especially kick ass time of year here in the PNW. The trout bite again. The forest beckons. The Seahawks, oh, the mighty Seahawks! The M's just miss the playoffs for the 67th year in a row. The Huskies begin their quest towards relevancy. That smell...Arrives with the school bells and lingers until after Thanksgiving. We have really gotten a lot of projects done over this summer. Now, with time running out, we must pull together as a team and button up all of the loose ends. Not a lot, but, important just the same. A little pixie dust, makes opiated into...OPIATED!!!! Now that we are back on the grid, I will be able to dole out every delicious detail. It will be as if you were riding on my shoulder like Toucan Sam.........................Good day peeps, good damn day.

Shhhhhhhhhhh! Valerie is sleeping!

Guess where I am. Evil Val's lair. Ha ha ha! Came over to deliver some of my special sauce. I'm never too far from her thoughts, and as you all know, I'm pretty well sprung on her. Not that I don't do just fine without her, cause I do. But, in a perfect circle, she's my girl. Now I'm all up in her business! Ha! I have been hella busy. Working for Petit. Doing my thing. Building a fence in the front yard. Battling those fucking moles. Built custom speaker boxes for my truck. Moving all of my shit out of the office and garage. Eating Birthday Cake Ice Cream and milk. Taking care of my fucked off face infection. Cloning my favorite plant, and considering an attempt at breeding my own strain of Purple Blaze. Not too sure about all of the details, but when has that stopped me? I have finally got my own P.A.! First, I bought some Peavey PR12's from the pawn shop for 25 bucks. They were priced at $50.00 because they didn't work. I offered $25.00 and they said sure, then helped me carry 'em out to the truck. Got em home, and one worked fine, the other, nothing. Soooooo, I took the plate off of the back, and, low and behold, the wires were unhooked. So, I hooked em back up, and, TA-DA! P, mutherfucking A! Next, I went to Guitar Center and grabbed a Behringer 502 Xenyx mixer. Got it home and discovered that it had no FX send and return, the phantom power is only 15 volts, o today, I will be trading that shit in for a 1204 Xenyx mixer and my shit will be so fucking squared away you could measure it corner to corner both ways and it will be within a mutherfucking 64th of a mutherfucking inch. Anywho, after the mixer, my signal goes into a Peavey Classic 120 tube amp. From there to the speakers we spoke of already. I'm using some shitty mic that I've been carting around for years and years. Probably need to upgrade that shit to a Shure SM58. FX is an area that is pretty much whack. Yeah, I just used "whack". Fuck you, I do what I want. I need to get some fucking phaser on my earth-bound voice and launch that shit into orbit. Stoner Rawk is just not quite right with dry vox. I don't make the rules, but if I did, FX on the vocal track would be non-negotiable. When I close my eyes, I see black and pink fractal light shows in the shape of a guitar and half-stack.

This is the bullshit I'm currently suffering through.(The struggle is real!!!!)

This is the upgrade I will be employing today, to make my shit KICK-ASS!


















As you can see from my words and pictures, life is being lived, and the only reason you are not hearing about it more often is because my interweb situation is about as fucked up as Donald Trump and his daughter giving each other "back rubs" after a long day of lying. That is about all for now, but remember, time is a finite resource...Treat it as such.

WTF Happened To Summer?

The weather!?!? It's like a certain girl I often refer to. One day, sunny and 75. The next day, it pours down rain so hard, you fear for tender seedlings everywhere. I guess the solstice was Monday, so maybe I should cool down, but this was supposed to be an El Nino year! My yard is loving the rain, though. It's so pimped out the Sherriff keeps sending undercovers to try and buy a blowjob. Me and Frizzo jammed some old assed SuperCell songs today. I think I will try to resurrect one and give it a modern twist. Out is the name of the one I'm thinking of. Stay tuned to my Sound Town account. Been selling my extra shit on offer up. Made a fistful of dollars so far. Now I need some work. Plenty out there. Just need to keep grinding. A trip out to the property in Okanogan is in my near future, there has got to be some good news there. M's are tanking. Cav's won the NBA title. Hawks are looking good, got a good feeling about this year! Been laying off of the go-fast until tonight. Donald Trump is a jackass of historic proportions. I hope Clinton gets Elisabeth Warren to be VP...LOVE her! Huskies are all optimistic predictions, now all we have to do is beat Oregon.

New Shit Yo...

Knocked this puppy out in an evening. Might need some drums. We shall see.

Posting From The Library

Still no interweb at the headquarters. M's come back from down 10 runs last night. Wow. That is usually what happens to us, not the other way around. So last night I had one of my world famous epiphanies. I should go to school. Music producer school. I have already found a couple that looks like they could benefit from my brand of cool. It would be nice to get a new career since my old one evaporated. Plus, what has two thumbs and loves to produce music? This mutherfucker right here(points thumbs towards chest). I think this would be a blast. Now if I can pull off the financing, we would be golden. Be a good reason to stay off of the H too. I think that is the direction I will put my energy. Awesome. Thanks for listening. Gonna be super nice this weekend!

I Create My Own Reality

Some people would call this "self absorbed". In my reality those people are dicks. I control how I perceive things...So, perception is reality. To a point. If I perceive the road is clear and step out in front of a bus, well, my reality ends. At the same time, if I choose to focus on the fact that it is sunny at my house, the M's are in first place, I have my health, I'm not on paper, etc. I perceive the world as a kick ass place. If I focus on Trump and his minions, and all of the shit I hate, I could wallow in self-pity, and maybe even spread that shit. Just for today...I will have a good fucking time.

Happy Mother's Day...

I am so balanced you couldn't knock me over with a bulldozer. Feeling super groovy. M's lost. Still, they are 18-13, first place...I ain't complaining. Been jammin my guitar hella. Been playing Days of the New and Gruntruck in the truck. Gotta go BBQ with Mom. BBQ'd with Valerie then went and had a beer with Frizzo, then went and had a beer with Pam. Balance. Busy. Time to get to work on all my little plans for taking over the world. Muhahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Rehab....Take Two ...Electric Boogaloo: Finding Balance.

Soooo. Back to treatment. I guess the first time didn't take. We already knew that though. I. Like.
To. Get. High. Period. I cannot imagine going through my whole life sober. What a fucking drag.
I can sure buy some time and try to find some alternate income streams to fall back on if I ain't having any fun. I wish I could find some balance. Wax on. Wax off. Wax on. So anyway. Shit. Wax off. Balance. I know the hot new theory is to say I have a brain disease. Yeah? Well, this brain disease I currently suffer from causes me to be an absolute creative genius. I didn't write any music until I started doing drugs. In my 2 1/2 years of being sober, I wrote zip. Nada. Nothin. I tried. Couldn't. I never created anything of depth or substance. Not only did I begin to create while on drugs, but invented clever complex work-arounds to make up for any lack of talent, experience, or equipment. I love the challenge of making something from nothing, and then working on it. Try to improve what you have created. Add depth. Innuendo. Layers. I get so much satisfaction from being creative, and I am always high. If I'm not getting high, I watch TV. Or read. I consume other people's art. I only make art when I am high. I suffer from a brain disease that causes me to get high and play music, Write lyrics. Learn how to play instruments and use complex equipment. How to use advanced software and the equipment to run it. It also causes unhealthy binges of being high 24/7, and that ain't good. But neither is being sober all the time. Balance. I must find it. Capture and enslave it. It must be mine. Balance. I'm coming for you

All Up In My Grill

Sooooo, I had to take a break from the vagicide I've been committing on CrazyChick01.  My advanced relationship sensors alerted me to the fact that by utterly destroying this pussy, I may be unintentionally creating "feelings" in the rubble.  These feelings, while useful as motivation to follow my every perverted, deviant sexual fantasy, could come back to haunt me.  A woman scorned is a DANGEROUS adversary.  I'm fearless, not stupid.  Okay, I am stupid, but I'm not crazy...Okay, maybe a little crazy, but I'm definitely not suicidal. Yeah.  Not suicidal.  A glutton for punishment, but I want to live damn it!!!  I cannot believe how many good years I wasted on that fucking cunt, Valerie.  Remember how much fun we used to have dippin the wick all over this great country?  Good times...Koch Un Bolls 2015...The shoot out resumes....

How To Pick Up Women....

My favorite way?  Pull the truck over and ask 'em if they need a ride.

 Works best when it's cold out and they are carrying a garbage bag full of clothes.  Sooooo, any who, that's what I did Saturday.  Dropped off crazy chick #1, went to an AA meeting full of dudes, then I picked up crazy chick #2.  Today my life is 2/3rd full of crazy chicks.  That ends up being more than the USDA recommended daily allowance.  I can handle it yo.  In other news....Dawgs got beat....Hawks pull it out in the 4th quarter....Polar vortex bearing down on the Clover Valley....Won my 3rd game in Fantasy Football.....New Pink Floyd dropped....165 Days left of bondage....Brandensbaked has left the building.

Gods and Punks

If anyone has been following "Gamergate", you've no doubt heard about these spineless fucks, who, from their parents basements, threaten female-rights advocates.  They mercilessly harass any female who puts forth ideas that threaten the status quo, as far as females being portrayed as helpless, sexy, playthings, that need to be rescued by the male archetype superhero(nerds on an Xbox).  Now if you read my blog, and I hope you do, you know that I objectify women.  In my reality, which I create, women are sexy, dumb, and horny.  I also fantasize that sooner or later these horny women will probably need some kind of rescue.  Hopefully by yours truly.  Hopefully followed by steamy, kinky sex.  With me.  I don't begrudge the "gamers" this world view.  The problem arises when one of these females has an opinion that differs from the "gamers".  Now, when I offend one of these independent, strong-willed women, I expect to be ruthlessly spanked and forced to lick their leather stilettos. Hand-cuffed to a giant wheel, I soon regret my sins. These socially retarded trolls however, use their advanced interweb skills to reveal sensitive personal information of the outspoken women, like addresses and social security numbers.  The goal is to silence these dissenters, and any other women who may be thinking of speaking out, by making them fear for their personal safety.  These chickenshit, anonymous punks hide behind screen names, like, "gamerfag69", or "joystickmick", while the courageous women they harass have the balls to publish under their true identity.  Well let me just say this, I am willing to beat any of these threatening trolls half to death in exchange for sex with the fine assed female being harassed. You punks might run the interweb, but real life is my domain. Peace and titties fools.

 

KKK

Kick-Ass Kustom Kramer

More Info...

Oh…

So JH gets back to me…Still in denial. I thought it was supposed to be the other way around. “But what about the time I bought you dinner and paid for drinks” he sniveled. Yeah, I guess that excuses your behavior…Dick…Can I call you dick? Perfect. It’s time to get back to what I do best…Tending da Budda and fuckin’ it up on my guitar. Played through my new mixer and mics last night, yeah, I rucking fock(makes devil horns). I can pick up the rest of my new guitar setup on July 21…MUST STAY OUT OF JAIL!!!  I suppose I should pick up one of those…What do call ‘em? Oh, yeah, licenses!  Are they hard to get? NO! Fuckin’ hard to keep though…I gotta blaze, the sun just came out! Peace and Titties mofos~Bb