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.

Happy Friday From B and Frizzo

Down at the library, listening to Supercell on Myspace, and bloggin my Goddamned ass off. That is the kind of dedicated Mutherfucker I am. You're welcome. Let's see, what's new? Oh yeah, Frizzo got robbed at gunpoint Wednesday night and 200 dollars worth of company product disappeared without reimbursement. Yeah, I guess that's the textbook definition of "robbed". We will endure. We are nothing if not dedicated. Been jammin and moving the rest of my shit to my house. Got "The Shed" all pimped out. Ready for action. Next move? The hot tub!!!! Also, I've picked out the next song for recording.....Wait for it....Out Of My Mind! Stay tuned. In other news...Fucking rain. Fucking M's. Fucking Trump. Okay, that's all the news that's fit to spit. Peace and DEATH TO TRUMP!

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.

MySpace is still breathing...

My page is still up. My Supercell page is too. Trippy. All those songs just waiting to be listened to. Now we do Soundcloud. Why not just stick to MySpace? I do not know. Good question. Been jammin though, so soon new crap on Soundcloud or MySpace or whatever. Me and Frankie are cleaning out the garage at the office so I thought I'd use the internet to post some shit. Also grab a few GOT episodes. M's got beat by the Twins, but are still kicking ass.

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

Phoning in a phew phacts

Phirst post from my galaxy nexus..phucking phantastic. Of course the phone posts won't be as polished as my well thought out computer generated posts. On the plus side they should have a spontaneous feel to them. Actually, I'm not sure if that's a plus or not...Time will tell.