So, after yesterday's fairly disappointing failure to actually manage to feature an artist, I figured I would try again. I am also working on mastering surf on the guitar, which is amazing fun to play. I think a surf-punk band playing songs about b-movies and cult tv shows would be great fun, so I'm looking into that. Need a drummer and a bassist who aren't afraid of acapulco shirts and quad-picking licks though.
Still working on b-movie posters, currently in various stages of "Dracula Attacks!" "Terror From the Red Planet" and "The Thing From the Depths".
Also adding final alterations to a roller derby t-shirt design, woo!
Anyway - go and see the work of Candy 2021 -
Surf's Up.
Sunny Mood
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I would never do a drug that is named after a part of my own ass.
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derby girls live by four rules. Skate. Kill. Win.
.......oops.
PRELUDE TO A THOUSAND KILLS
CHAPTER 1| THE CLOSEST THING TO HUMAN…
I sleep. My mind submerged in my dreams.
The same dreams I have dreamt every night, for so long I neither can, nor cares to remember what the content of my dreams were before…
“What the fuck do you want from me?!”
from a voice, infected with fear. In desperation but as if rhetorical, as the response “nothing” calmly yet firmly uttered.
“No!!!!!” Then the sudden crisp stun of a muffled bullet as it penetrates flesh, abruptly muting their final cry.
“Killings the easy part, its what happens after. The face, the scream, the notion, the liberation, the addiction. Its like the first time you jerk off as a teenage, it can all just become so common place to you, routine, like buying a newspaper every morning or remembering to clip your toe nails every 2 weeks. I only had one question to ask myself. If it feels good why stop?, why the fuck stop?! So any time I couldn’t answer that question then id carry on.
But there were rules, and If I broke them I told myself I would stop and the game was over.”
“What were these rules?”
(pauses) and takes a sip of water
“never kill for love,
never kill for money and never kill any one you would live to regret killing.
And that’s the hardest one to keep…”
“Interesting…theses set rules, the organisation.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“more of an observation”
(He smiles)
“OK…I want to establish how you got to here, How did you come to do the things that you did...Lets talk about..
(interrupting his sentence)
“my youth, my childhood. Attempting to find some sort of link or trigger, some ill treatment, some passage of extended abuse that will explain my behaviour…”
(Smirking) “Maybe. Why…is there anything you would like to share with me?”
(He chuckles)
“what ever happen to just being fucking crazy. You cant shoe box that, pure unadulterated madness. I’ll tell you what, ill ask you a question”
“Go on”
The doctor leans in intently.
Lowing his voice he says
“Do you know what a urinal cake taste like?”
“Huh?” unsure whether he has heard correctly.
“Do you know what a urinal cake taste like?”
Slightly baffled by the question he answers “Er..m.. No, I don’t…What…?”
“Ever had to go to school with 2 fractured ribs and a busted ankle”
“O…Ok…No...Is”
He continues ranting, totally Ignoring the doctors advances to probe further
“Ever been pinned down and beaten with a bike chain across your back as some other guy fingerfucks your girlfriend infront of you, and shoves his fingers in your face.”
Trying to regain control of the assessment “No…But are these your experiences, did this happen to you?“
“
…Im not crazy, im not evil, im like you. Or your friends behind the two way mirror, the only difference is, ive stopped… Believing. People…They are all but a function, Means to an end. Doctor, Police” raising his cuffed wrists “
“I see… but what about your emotions, they make you more than your chosen profession they make you human. People cared for the people you’ve killed.”
Why…? emotions like love and compassion are tools, I’m aware of emotions, ill use them as and when I choose to.
with a tone of sudden self realisation
“Maybe I’m not like you guy after all. Maybe I am unique.
Remember the urinal cake…”
“I do…yes…”
“Truth is, I cant rationalise that taste to you, anymore than I can explain to you my thought processes, There only one way my friend…”
“To taste it?”
“To eat it…Eat it, digest it, shit it out, whip your ass and have another one.”
“…and then another?”
a rise smile break across his face
“alright we are on the same page at last”
“Brian You are truly an anomaly”
“Id like to welcome everyone to the inmate weekly Share Meeting Feb 4th…Glad to see some new faces. My name is Keith…who would like to share first today”
They all turn and look at me as usual, intently, dough-eyed, like snot nosed nursery school kids waiting for their afternoon story. I am their fallen rock star.
I do not disappoint.
“Sleep. Its not an easy thing to do when you have voices screaming at you in the middle of the night. Alcohol induced comas only make you less productive the following day and tranquilizers have an annoying tendency to stop your heart below a rate that allows you to regain consciousness. The best remedy is to talk to them (the voices), find out what they want. Like Mary my ex land lady who went into my flat with my spare key and attempted to extract the rent money I owed her for some time. Stupid old cook, shed never of found it. What kind of fucking moron keeps their money in a cookie jar on top of their fridge or under their mattress or in the back of their TV for god sake.
I knew it was her. No forced entry and I could taste the cigarette stench chased by the aroma of that old fart perfume she was always doused in as soon as I put my foot through the door.
I took my gun from my inside holster and screwed on the muffler I always keep in my back left pocket. From the sound of the shuffling of feet I could hear she was in the bedroom.
It’s a small open plan flat with no windows except for the bathroom and in the bedroom
I removed my shoes, so I could move around in almost complete silence
I picked up a cushion and turned off the lights
I could hear the panic in her voice as she called out to me
Is that ?u. hello!, I’ve just come for that rent you owe me.
Its pitch black.
She cant see me as I slip into the corner outside of the bedroom, I approach from the rear stalking her in the darkness. As she makes her way gingerly towards my front door I closely shadow her as she proceeds oblivious to me. I let her touch the door nob,
I let her think she is that close to freedom then I raise the cushion to her head height and pull it. She falls head first into the door. The end”
“Fucking intense man.” The most poignant of the reactions and muttering
“Thank you for sharing with us”
Yeah! Excuse me, Im going back to my cell.
I exit to a round of applause. A chill crawls down my back like an oversized millipede walking down my spine. I briskly make my way back to my cell not making eye contact with anyone.
Its not the same when I return to my cell. My heart tries to leap out of my chest at what feels like a 1000 beats per min. legs giving way. I throw up as my knees start to fold and buckle landing in my own vomit.
“AAAHHHHHH” I yell sudden burst emotion, I explode into tears, as if crying the tears of every victim I ever slain
I begin hitting myself. Sobbing and screaming, sluring my words through the crying!!!!
“You fucking monster, you fucking, fuck.!!!”
Im manically scraping and clawing at my scalp the stumble over to my bed and then start smashing my head against frame. Again and again and again.
I stagger to my feet, the blood pouring from my face and right ear. I franticly search around the room, my eyes then settle on the mirror above the sink.
I smash the mirror and take the largest most serrated piece. I drop my trouser bottoms. And begins to fashion a rope
Still sobbing, tears streaming from my face as I concoct my own execution. I remove my shirt and tie one sleeve into a noose round my neck. I take the other sleeve and using the cord from the trousers, I tie it to the make-shift rope. I hold the piece of mirror between my teeth climb on top of the sink. I fix the rope to the light fixture. I begin to get anxious as a breath more Violently through my nostrils, I then take the mirror piece from my mouth and runs it across both wrists.
I drops of the edge of the sink, without a second though or any hesitation. I struggle and wince and gag kicking at the air beneath me I mutter to myself, goading my own demise. “Dieeeeehh… you bitch…youuuu fuck!!!” The blood dripping from my face and hands, pooling underneath me.
After 2 mins I begin to slip in and out of consciousness. i close my eyes for what must feels the last time.
Then…
A voice utters a sigh.
“Ok, shows over” accompanies a cynical applause
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