Weekend Update, With Nigel Flannery Livingston

Let's see if I can get through this before my system completely shuts down. Here's a few meaningful (perhaps only to me) pictures from the past two days.

1- Zack showing Special K his homework from school. He is working on long vowel sounds, and he is very proud of himself for filling in all the correct vowels for the various pictures on the page. He's picked up this reading thing surprisingly fast. He's already (capably) stumbling through the modern equivalent of those retarded Dick and Jane books.




2- This is Z's introduction to video chatting, or Skyping I think they call it. I think the idea of talking like the Jetson's did is pretty cool, but so far there isn't anyone who wants to Skype with me. Zack spoke briefly with Special K's daughter and granddaughter.




3- Z went trick or treating with his cousins tonight. They had a blast, in spite of getting sick of walking around. Z is so stoked about all his candy, but the interesting thing is that he won't eat any of it. He hates candy. Which I think is a good thing, personally.




4- Zackzilla and Mercury, both enjoying Halloween. Z asked me to make sure his cousins all knew he wasn't the real Darth Vader. It was only him in a costume. He didn't want his cousins to be afraid.




5- Babaganoosh and I pose for a quick shot. Z took this picture with my big expensive camera. I need to get him his own. And by the way, Babaganoosh is my little brother.




6- This picture is somewhat of a tradition in our family, as I'm sure it is in many families. Whenever possible, we try to take a picture with as many generations of Livingston's as we can. Gramps has been visiting here since the beginning of summer. He went home this morning, and it was very difficult to say good-bye to him last night. Given the fact that he is a bit long in the tooth, I'm not really all that sure that I will get another opportunity to take this picture, if you take my meaning. For those of you who remember this post, it was entirely inspired by the impact Gramps has had on me.

When I saw him at the beginning of the summer, it had been four years since I had seen him, and his physical condition startled me. It caused my mind to think on all the ways that he had impacted me, and I realized that he had been one of the very few people who held my clay in their hands. He did well with that clay, not even knowing what he had done.

Gramps is one of the few genuinely great people that I have ever met. Not to mention the funniest person I have ever known personally.

I'm Too Tired To Come Up With A Creative Title For This One

Scott Weiland, vocalist for Stone Temple Pilots, is a huge drug addict. And for that I have very little respect for him. But he said something in a recent interview that I thought was interesting:

"Patriotism is a word that has been thrown around a lot this year, but I believe we have failed to define patriotism. McCain calls himself a renegade and patriotic, but is he really? This country was founded on patriots who were also radicals. They had to be in order to stand up against a government that was oppressive, a government that didn't allow personal freedoms, a government that ruled and controlled by force. Does this sound familiar? Does this sound like McCain is part of the solution, or part of the problem?

Rock and Roll Ain't Noise Pollution

Well the apocalypse might be really close now. I broke down and finally bought an AC/DC album. But I did it for a good cause: my own karma.

Perhaps a bit of background...

I loathe Wal-Mart. They are evil. If the devil came to earth and forgot his raincoat, he would go buy one at Wal-Mart. They should be VERBOTEN! But they aren't, because even the bureaucracy is evil. For the most part. It all started tanking when they killed Bobby Kennedy. He was the last great American.

But I digress...

A few weeks ago I had a moment of horrendously embarrassing weakness when I bought a box of strawberry whoppers from the devil when I went to Wal-Mart with my brother-in-law in Loveland, Colorado. It only cost me $.87, but it really made me feel guilty.

Fast forward to tonight. I went to Zia Records to pick up a Static X CD, when I saw at their store the new AC/DC CD, which was supposed to be a Wal-Mart exclusive.

A Wal-Mart exclusive? Seriously?

Yes, the new CD from AC/DC (a band I swore I'd never spend my money on) is a Wal-Mart exclusive in North America. This is retarded. When I asked the clerk at Zia how they managed to score the album he told me that there was a retailer in Europe who hated Wal-Mart as much as I do. They sold the AC/DC CD at cost to a bunch of North American retailers so that they could sell it instead of Wal-Mart.

I immediately grabbed the CD and added it to my small pile of purchases. I may not be a big fan of AC/DC, but I certainly hate Wal-Mart more than them.

Zack's Special Place

I'm pretty sure that Zack was born with his junk in his hands. I'll have to refer the tape for verification (though it contains parts of his Mother's body I don't care to re-live). Ever since the day he came out, like any real man, he's had his hands in his pants.

Yesterday in the bath, he found his right testicle. You'd think he was doing a breast exam with his horrified reaction to a little bump (not really that little, actually). He was very concerned. And it was very funny. I did the proper Fatherly thing and told him it was supposed to be there. But when he asked me what it was for, I was completely without words. I mean, I know what it's for, but how do you explain that to a four-year-old with out guaranteeing him a trip to the Oprah show sometime in the future?

I totally chickened out and explained that it was a little monster egg and that when it was fully grown, it would hatch and bite him on the ass if he was bad.

Just kidding. I told him it was part of his wiener. I'll have to think up something clever for when he finds the other one.

This is almost as good as when he thought his wiener was on crooked.

Zack's Big Weekend

Zack and I went to The Children's Discovery Museum this past weekend. The place is kind of a dump, and some of the exhibits are broken, but Z loves going there. I took a picture of him playing in the Grocery Store exhibit. He was playing with some random little girl and they were ringing up each others groceries. When Z rang her up he charged her $700.14, but when she rang him up, she only charged him $02. I thought it was kind of funny, and perhaps indicative their respective abilities concerning their grasp on reality. Even a four-year-old's reality. That little girl did seem kind of ditzy.




These next two show Zack after I finally broke out the Wii Fit. I think it's really cool. Zack loves the Ski Jumping game. I made the mistake of pointing out how to balance properly to acheive turbo speed, and now he holds 7 of the top 10 places for record long jumps, including places 1 and 2. Such crap.

{sigh}

My Wii Fit told me I was obese.

Z's Pix

Zack and I spent over an hour going through thousands (literally thousands) of pictures of him. We started off with the pictures of the moment he was born and just worked our way forward. He kept asking for explanation for what was happening in each picture. It was nice to go through them all with him, but it reminded me of how much I want another kid.

Here's a few pics that kind of moved me this morning:


Z and his cousin Mr. Conductor.


Zack eating, I don't know, let's say bananas. It certainly wasn't rice.


The uncensored version of this is really impressive, but it just might land me in jail.


I want another kid.

Poop Loser

I have always wanted to use the word apropos in a real sentence, and now I have an occasion. The wonderful freaks over in San Francisco have decided to give Ol' W a fitting going away present. So very apropos.

Great Albums With Buttholes On The Cover, #2

Far Beyond Driven, represents a turning point for the late great Pantera. Prior to this, they had traveled on a trajectory that took them from being a wimpy (but still pretty good) edgy Kiss band to being a balls out metal monster that just happened to change the face of metal music. With each subsequent album being more aggressive than the last, they mutated their sound into something that altered people's perceptions of metal music. Whether that was good or bad is very subjective.

This album, being the turning point, cross the line in many ways into the realm of controlled noise. As a band, they explored this idea even further on their next album, The Great Southern Trendkill. These two albums comprise my favorites from this band, even with the exploration of using noise as music.

This album cover, of course, was banned in the US, in the name of great American squeamishness. It was replaced with a shot of a drill embedded in a skull, which for some reason is less offensive.

I don't claim to understand the censor's. In fact their rationale seems to be heavily steeped in the retarded more times than not.

Number Eleven

Count those strings...

Braids, Rain, Cold and A Smelly Little Dog

Babaganoosh and I took Z-Rizzle to Loveland, Colorada for the weekend. It was cool. Literally. It was so friggin' cold there that we spent most of the time indoors. Which was fine. Except for the time that Mooch sent us to the Chicago Hot Dog place that turned out to be closed for business. That was bullshit.

Apart from that, it was a good time. It rained the whole time. Which was fine, because I roamed through the park across the street and took a series of photos of rain drops. Go check them out here. Let me know what you think of them. Some of them are a bit redundant, but that's fine.

Also, my niece, Angelica Rose Fullabologna, braided my hair. Dig it.




A full report is coming later. Maybe. I need to go get some sushi first.

Nigel's Nocturnal Necrophilia

Just kidding about the necrophilia. Not really. I'm a perfectly normal necrophiliac.

Is bestionecrophilia a word? Maybe it should be hyphenated.

So it's after 2 in the morning and I can't sleep. Which sucks, because I have to get up insanely early in the morning. I've been lying in bed for the past few hours trying to sleep, but I can't because my mind is racing. Let me explain, without divulging any secrets, what exactly has been racing through my mind.

First off, my dreams manuscript has officially been put on hold. I know I haven't revealed too much info about this one, but it has to be shelved for the time being, due to the fact that I have a far more pressing project to address first.

I have been sitting on a project for a few years due the fact that some key elements were missing. Primarily, these elements were actually personnel. I was missing a few important people behind the cameras, and one very important person in front of the camera. This person has to be on-camera next to me, and I had to shelve the project for a long time because I couldn't find the right person.

As some things happen to work out, I recently landed a gig that, for the most part, put me back in touch with an old associate. I've wanted to work with her for a long time, and this recent project allowed me to do that.

Suddenly the idea of re-birthing this shelved project suddenly became a realistic possibly. I (kind of) pitched the idea to her (KitKat) and she totally went for it. Well, she went for it as much as you can without actually getting any details. Those finer details still need to be discussed, but she is on board on a preliminary level.

And this is the part that has me juiced to dive into this project again.

The problem is that with this project now (just about) green lighted, all these ideas for this project are running through my mind. Since this is, essentially, intellectual property, I can't really give away anything else until I have my legal interests taken care of. And those (few) of you who know about this project, please shut the hell up.

So this is the reason I am now blogging and not snoring. But, the truth is that I think this is a good thing. This is when I accomplish my most creative points of genesis; when I am hovering in that in-between stage that separates wake from sleep.

Sometimes I have to get up and write them down. Sometimes I fall asleep and most of those unrecorded creations get lost to the destructive sands of time. If only I had a midget that could follow me around at all times taking notes for me.

I'll have to work on that.

Anyway, I'm stoked about having the chance to work with KitKat again, and I am happy that Captain Chaos, Claymation and Lord Windesmere are all on board, too.

This will be a really good thing. Some of the reasons are obvious. Most of them are probably not. And that's okay, but they'll have to stay that way.

Love, Peace and Geese,

Nigel.

Birthdays

So today marks the Old Man's birthday. I have a tendency to remember his birthday, even though he has a tendency to miss mine by a day. But that's okay.

So today Dad turns, I don't know, let's say 67.

67 years! That's almost 80 years!

So happy birthday Pops. And everyone, we're all gathering at Dad's house tonight to administer the customary spankings, as well as a bacon slapping contest.

And the spanking will have to be done in shifts, because 67 spankings is just too much for one person to administer.

Zeitgeist: Addendum

Watch this.

Walking On Water

My old man tries to be the blogging type, but he rarely actually posts anything.

Tonight, I noticed he had posted something new, so I darted over to his blog to check it out. I knew it had to be monumental to warrant a posting on his blog, so I was eager to see what it was. Lo and behold, it was more monumental that even I could have imagined. And I can imagine quite a bit.

Read his post here.

I only wish I could have been there to experience said joy first hand, rather than reliving the mental imagery I have to concoct in the absence of said first hand experience.

And how inappropriate of Special K to not have a camera rolling at the time.

Chop Sticks

Z and I went to Kobe last night. Lord Windesmere came with. It was so good. Since Z doesn't eat sushi (yet), he ordered a Cheeseburger from their non-sushi menu. Since he's only four, and he still thinks I'm the coolest person in the world, he likes to copy everything I do. Including eating his french fries with chop sticks.

This Might Be The Most Disgusting Thing I Have Pulled Out Of My Body

That's my body of course, because I have seen after-birth, and it was way worse than this.

My nose has been bleeding nocturnally for many years. Usually the only signs it leaves are smears of bloody goodness across my face and pillow. This morning, however, I pulled this whopper out of my nose. It was so long, that it tickled the back of my throat while I was performing this booger-ectomy.

It reminded me of a joke Richard Pryor told once about the big black booger that scared him so much he almost quit doing cocaine. Almost.

Anyway, this is the second (that's right, second) biggest booger I have ever pulled out of my nose. I'm not sure where the line is that separates boogers from blood clots, but I imagine it should be established at this point in human history.

For purely scientific reasons, of course.

Great Albums With Buttholes On The Cover, #1

This is a great album, even if it does have a butthole on the cover. Blaze is one of those guys who never gets a fair shake in his career. He was hired to replace the irreplaceable Bruce Dickinson in the metal monster Iron Maiden. The fans didn't really take to him, which is a shame because I think he has a great voice. Not great like Bruce's, but great in its' own way.

Blaze parted company with the rest of the band after two lackluster albums, and pursued a solo career. Which I think was a good thing because his solo material stomps all over the stuff he did with Maiden. Besides, his departure paved the way for the return of Bruce Dickinson.

Anyway, this album rocks. I was listening to it today, because earlier this week, Blaze's wife died. She inexplicably slipped into a coma three months ago. Last week she suffered a stroke and she passed away earlier this week. It made me sad. Very sad.

Tripping On A Hole In A Paper Nothing

Do you ever just start tripping and then realize, after said trip, that you had nothing, in fact, to trip about in the first place?

I've been riding this emotional high for that past two weeks and crashed hard tonight. For no reason. I won't discuss the trigger, but there are a few out there who will doubtlessly already know what it is.

In retrospect the crash seems so adolescent and juvenile. Silly, to be honest with you.

I mean, how bad could it possibly be to maintain my present course and trajectory throughout the rest of my life?

There's no bumps. No detours. And no road blocks. So really my present course and trajectory are pretty badass.

Even if it is like driving through Nebraska.

On the other hand, a little scenery doesn't hurt...

Random Word List #10

-Mystery

-Suspicion

-Implicit

-Alarming

-Pangea

-Dictatorship

-Dangling

-Immersive

-Metaphysical

-Dissident

Tonight I Made A Little Boy Cry

Z and I went to Fuddruckers tonight. As we were leaving, we ran into a friend of mine, who had claimed that she was a balloon sculptor. I really didn't believe that, but tonight we ran into her while she was working at Fuddruckers. Get what she was doing? Sculpting balloons.

To be honest with you, I think the terminology here is a little jacked up. When I think of the word sculptor, I think of a knife. And I don't care how badass you are, if you take a knife to a balloon, it's going to pop. So they need to come up with a new name. Balloon bender or something like that. Something that actually describes the activity being engaged in.

Anyway...

She gave Z a balloon, which he thought was the coolest thing ever and we went home and he proceeded to throw it around and play with it, as any little boy would do.

He threw it up a little high, and I told him to avoid hitting the ceiling with it because the popcorn texture might pop the balloon. His very next throw landed the balloon in the net of his little Nerf over-the-door basketball hoop. I went over to get it for him and stuck my hand up threw the under side of the net, and popped it up right into the ceiling. And with a deafening pop, the balloon shredded under the massive attack of the popcorn texturing.

Just watching the reaction from Z, you would think that someone had run over his dog right in front of his eyes. It was heartbreaking on a level I have never experienced before.

I felt so terrible.

I promised to take him to the store tomorrow and buy him a whole bag of balloons, so hopefully that will be sufficient restitution.

I already feel bad enough about this, so please don't make it worse by telling me what a terrible careless Father I am.

This means you, Captain Chaos. I can see the words falling from your lips even as I type this.

I Have To Do This Quick Because I'm Supposed To Be At Work In Two Minutes

I have always loved bands that defy convention. Namely bands that have a sense of humor, don't take themselves too seriously and like to have fun with their music. And of course, being able to play well is always a nice bonus.

I Wrestled A Bear Once was a band I immediately ignored when they hit the scene because I felt they had a name that was so stupid that they didn't warrant my attention. There are tons of bands that have stupid names. Want proof? Look here.

Anyway, I saw this video over at Blabbermouth.net, and I thought it was very interesting. Not interesting enough to run over to Zia and buy it, but interesting enough for me to watch the video and post it on my blog.

It was the name of the song that caught my attention. To be honest with you, I think Kevin Bacon is a pretty good actor, but I don't care to ever know what he tastes like. That thought is disturbing on a level I can't even begin to comprehend.

Flush

I finally got the chance to see Head's music video. There's a whole lot of hoopla going around about this album he just released. And for all the wrong reasons. Some retailers (probably Wal-Mart) have yanked this album because they say that this music video condones drug abuse. And of course they have this opinion because they are too shallow and unintelligent to understand the true meaning of this song.

This song is proof that a man can devote his life to Christ and still rock out hardcore. This song is about Head's journey that began with him being a meth-addicted mega rock star with no future, and culminated in him being a drug-free born again Christian. What he did takes real devotion, and I admire that.

This song is heavy as hell. Some of you might hate it because of this. But if you have the capacity, sit back and experience the pain, sorrow and hopelessness in this song. And when the end comes around, notice the hopeful, determined emotion that drips from it. Some might call it ugly, but I think it's beautiful.

Brian Welch is a man who knows pain. I am glad he took the steps to save himself, because so many don't.

And I am also glad that he didn't pull a Cat Stevens and give up on music altogether.

If you like this song, please go buy this album. The messages in this collection of songs is uplifting to a degree I can barely comprehend.

So does this song advocate drug use? You decide. If it does, then explain the backwards video in the end.