Sleight of Mind

Alright, for real this time.
So that thing I posted yesterday was just the beginning, but then I kept just fucking with the same musical idea and going around and around with it, so now I'm posting the real song. Yesterday was a nice and friendly three minute thing. We're now clocking in with an orchestra at nine minutes.
Enjoy.
http://crippledalbino.podbean.com/2009/02/24/missing/

Hey kids.
Just did one quick little thing. I can see myself fucking with it and turning it into an eight minute long prog thing, so for those of you who like simple and quick, I thought I'd drop this quick little three minute, single instrument thing. Not a final cut, but enjoyable nonetheless.

http://crippledalbino.podbean.com/2009/02/23/missing-radio-edit/

Pray for sound, everyone.

So in case you aren't a facebook friend, and who is, really, the news is already out. I'm jobless. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn't fired although with the lack of shit I did in that place, I should have been. No, economy, blah blah blah, elimination of position, et-cetera, here's some severance please don't sue us, yadda yadda yadda.

So whatever.

Anyone who has tried to be a friend to me knows just how quiet I've been. And by quiet, I mean telling you all to go fuck off because I have nothing entertaining to say. I know, I know, you're all my friends and don't need me to be entertaining, but fuck it if I haven't just shut down and had nothing to say to anyone.
Oh well.
Starting to come out of it now. We'll see, maybe a job can come from it.
Or maybe I need to get out of Boston.

Anyhow, new song available online. Just a melancholy little thing. It's over at http://crippledalbino.podbean.com and it's called "Lost." Under three minutes, so it's listenable. Ha.

Make me bleed, baby.
I just want to feel.

Alright, already.
The problem with having readers is that they actually want to read something.
Which means I actually need to write something.

Oh well.
So Christmas is done. Any of you who responded will have an official piece of self-whoring in the mail to you, that went out yesterday. It's been a horrendous blizzard here, so yesterday morning since I was up early anyhow, I dug the 'ol car out and managed the falling glaciers and end of the world like conditions to go to the post office and whatnot.

And make no mistake, the world has been ending.

I decided I wanted to take Friday off. Did I have a reason? No. Why would I?
I had one sick day to burn, and fuckin', I was gonna burn it. So I call in at six in the morning. Then I get a call from my boss at 6:05. He's telling me not to come into work, that they've shut it down.
Sick day, lost.
Oh well.
Net result is the same, right?

But otherwise it's been quiet. I don't go down to Jersey anymore. In fact, I haven't seen any Baggers in a long time. I talk to a few of them, but it's a transitional period for me these days, and I don't know what the next stage is going to look like. I keep going through these moments of metamorphosis and now is no different. My life today is very different than it was a few months ago, which is very different from what it was before that.

And this is not a bad thing.

So I'm updating this blog.
For readers and non-readers alike.
Nothing to say but a reminder that yes, I'm still alive out here.

Another spin around baby.
Make me bleed and take us home.

http://crippledalbino.podbean.com/2008/12/06/redemption/

Newest song. Going to make a hell of a splash on my next CD, now that the first one is officially released. Ha.

Good evening, world.

So it's Christmas time again, and I think that means that it's time for a little Christmas Card Hilarity.

So here's how it's gonna work:
If you'd like to be on my Christmas List, and receive a happy little Christmas card (Fuck the word 'holiday') as well as an ultra special gift, then you need to send me your address and I'll make it so.

So E-mail me at crippledalbino@gmail.com with your address and you'll have a fun little thing to unwrap on Christmas from the one, the only, Crippled Albino.

Merry Christmas, Happy Thanksgiving, et-cetera.
Make me bleed, and take me home.

We've come a long way, baby.

So I've done another song. This is during into quite the hobby. Who knew I'd be any good at it, hm?

http://crippledalbino.podbean.com for all your musical needs, but the song you want to hear now is called apotheosis.

Just a quickie. I've written another song.
It may not be your cup of tea. But I'm putting it out there anyhow.

http://crippledalbino.podbean.com/2008/10/04/love-stained-heart/

Yes.
I'm awake.
Sue me.

And you should be too.
You all should be. You should be awakening at this stage of your life. Don't you feel it? Don't you feel the change?

Of course you don't. Lethargic, just like I am. Numbed by your rum and your reality TV, just like I am. I'm no better. In spite of some people believing that I have a vast superiority complex, the reality is that I'm just as numbed as everyone else. We sit and we do nothing all day long while we bicker and fight with each other over which flavor of entertainment tastes the bests as it deadens our senses and destroys our wills, and not only do we not fight it, we ask for it, clamor for it, beg for it like fucking paupers.

So what is there?
Why do we exist at all? 

In spite of the fact that most of us are living to clear out our TiVos or buy the latest cell phone, we're all going to SAY that we're doing it for the connections. We're doing it because the life worth living is the life with the people in it, the friendships, the loves, the trust, the bond.

Is that true? Do you look around at your life and decide that what's around you is the reason for your existence? The people that you come in contact with each and every day, do they make your life worth living? 

They better, because it's all you've got.

Unless you want to admit to living the shallow life of being a consumer that's working eight hours a day to feed the electric bill that fuels your gadgets (and honestly, which one of us is going to admit to that? Except that it's precisely what I'm doing and why I'm living my life.) then the meaning of your life must be the family and friends that you have all around you, those extra special people that make life just oh so worth living.
It's what we're here for, after all.

So who do you have?
I've got some flakes around me. I've got people who can't return phone calls, who are fickle about whether or not they want to show up places, who don't even know if they like me. I've got people who can't return emails or phone calls, I've got people who want to fuck me, lie to me, seduce me and kill me. I've got people that share my addictions and people that abhor them. I've got people who wear a mask for me, and some who want me to wear a mask for them.

I've got everyone and I've got no one. Trust, honor, respect, love. These are the things that create the bonds that somehow forge us all together, right? Isn't that it? Isn't that the meaning of life? Isn't that the cosmic, emotional glue that sticks everyone together? Or do we fuck and breed more shitty little kids to hate so that they can grow up and hate themselves and each other long enough to fuck each other and pass on our great moral code to the next generation?

I taste blood in my mouth right now. I wonder if the blood relaxes or amps me up.  I guess we'll find out.

I know you're all going to read this and assume that I'm making an indictment against you.
I'm not. I don't want to have to go through this 'not you' fucking gimmick again.

I'm just talking.
I'm just getting it out there.
I'm just a guy sitting in bed at night wondering  why there's so much emptiness and praying that my father's wrong.
And that you're wrong.

Where's the one I can trust? Where's the one I can depend on? Where's the one I can lean on and fight with and fight for? Where's the one that's gonna respond to me? Where's the one that won't hate me? Where's the one who knows? 

I'm gonna dip you down and kiss your lies, baby.
And tonight, that'll do just fine.
Yes... that will do just fine.

Another spin, kids, and I'm still bleeding.
 

But what the fuck do I do?
Post pictures that I haven't taken? Tell stories that I want no one to know?
Write a poem about the hatred I'm not feeling?
No.
Fuck you guys.

Anyhow, welcome everyone to the unread blog. (And yes, I know that there are some of you out there that read this. Rosie, you're chief amongst them and I love you for it, never forget it.)
But it's a small community and getting smaller, isn't it? Certainly is. It seemed like we were quite the crowd at one point, but now we're just all these scattered voices that yell into the wind and nothing ever happens.
Of course it's not as stark as all of that.

So welcome everyone, to the Crippled Albino show. I'm your host and and I'm tired and am really just updating you out of some sort of weird moral obligation. I have no idea when the last time was that I updated everyone, but whatever, it is what it is. I've been back and forth to New York, sometimes just for fun, sometimes for events. I seem to go to places where comedians get booed off the stage which is new for me.
But hilarious in an evil way.

Last May was Dan Natterman that none of you saw on Last Comic Standing.
Last weekend was Mike Birbiglia who none of you have seen do a series of commercials with Stephen Lynch on Comedy Central as well as a few comedy specials.
It was the pests, the Opie and Anthony fans at both events (O&A events, the both of them) and they just never gave the comics a chance. So they start with a hacky joke, doesn't get a laugh, and all of a sudden someone boos.
And then someone else.
And then it begins.
And both times, in a completely evil, uncomfortable fashion, I laughed my fucking balls off.

Now don't get me wrong.
I would HAAAATE to be in that situation.
And I don't think it was right what the crowd did to these guys.
But I laughed my fuckin' balls off.
It was just so cringy to watch these professionals try to deal with such failure. I give them both major credit for sticking it out as long as they did, but damn.
I mean, damn.

So anyhow.
That happened.
Virus show, tailgating, no unsavory types to ruin the fun, so it was all good.
Uh... Ricky Gervais and Louis CK killed, I mentioned that the last time.

Really nothing. Nothing interesting to any of you has happened.
Plenty to me, but like I told you, I don't intend to tell any of you.

Isn't this just the best blog ever? Built on a foundation of trust, communication, and love?

Ha.
I love you all.
Dancing with the corpse tonight,
Bring me home.

Wouldn't want to deny my beloved public, now would I?
I surely wouldn't.
Well, good evening, world. It's been quiet in the Cripple's world.
Well, that's not entirely true, but it's true enough for all of you ever-readers of this delightful blog.

So what have I been doing?
Well, I'll tell you. A little short-range traveling, most recently down to a little place we like to call Madison Square Garden to see Ricky Gervais.
Who's that ?

I shouldn't have to tell you. He's a comedy legend and most folks in the states don't have any idea who the fuck he is.
Heh. Lookit me getting all European and Cosmopolitan on y'all. Heh. Next thing I'll be fucking suggesting some fancy little Bollywood film that features the poetry of Depok-Whateverthefuckra his name is.
No, that's not me.
However, Ricky's a funny motherfucker and I advise you to go find some clips on youtube or something. Louis CK opened for him, which isn't a bad hour. You all remember Louis CK. I saw him last March and brought my coworker who almost got me into a fight with a dude that towered over me.
Oh, you don't remember that story?
Yeah... that happened.
I didn't write about that here, I wrote a different poem afterwards.
Funny how things work out in my head.

Otherwise, it's simple stuff. The cat got a piss blockage a few months ago and that ate my money up pretty good, so now I'm doing things to conserve. No more cable, bringing peanut butter and jelly to work. It saves, and I need to do that. Impending expenditures and all. Otherwise nothing real exciting to share with you all, which is why this is pretty quick.

In terms of administrative sorts of things, go check out http://crippledalbino.podbean.com if you like. I have removed the ever painful Cripskocasts from the website but have replaced it with some experimental and amateurish sorts of music that I've created. I was hesitant to put them up for human consumptions considering the wastes of flesh that [sic] 'peruse' my blog from time to time and the sort of cruelty they can inflict on someone, but I figured why the fuck not and just posted anyhow.
So give it a listen if you like.
Or don't.

Otherwise I'm just living my life and doing my thing.
And it's a good place to be, my life. I have friends. I have people who care. I have things to do and plans on the horizon.
This always makes for happy Cripples.

Scar me, bitch.
Bring me home.

It's an old saying we've all heard a hundred times.
The more things change, the more things stay the same.

So we've come full circle, folks. We rewind back to January and we see that the situation is exactly where I left it before I got my fingers involved. Precisely. I'm a non-entity now looking in at the situation, and THIS time around, instead of getting myself involved in any way whatsoever, I'm kindly taking nine steps back, many of those steps at the behest of others, and leaving everyone the hell alone.
And it feels like a weight off my shoulders, it really does.

All I want at this point is for the personal attacks to stop. It looks like they have, it's been a few quiet days.

Granted, the situation baffles me to no end. I don't understand how people can go right back to that same pattern, go right back into the exact same situation.
And was I ever a factor at all?
As time goes on, I realize I never was. Not even a little bit.
There's always the illusion, but the reality? No.
I could have been anyone.
I should have been no one.

May they find peace.
With every ounce of my being, I mean that.

So we're just chilling today, this great Crippled Albino show, the blog that no one reads and the commentary that no one cares about. It's July 4th, I have a whole weekend jam-packed so I won't be updating or even checking e-mail or anything for the next three days or so. Got some excitement coming up, going to see Ricky Gervais, the mastermind behind The Office, at Madison Square Garden, I guess that's the next thing after this weekend.

Otherwise there's nothing to complain about. I have a spring in my step and a smile on my face and I'm really just soaking life in these days. Some of it is horrific, some of it is humorous, but it's all to be learned from and observed.

And all you motherfuckers are so much smarter than me, aren't you?

Make us bleed, baby.
Bring us home.

Or at least, that's one of the ideas.
We'll see how everything else pans out.

Well, good evening, world. It's the Crippled Albino blog, the one that sucks, the one that no one reads. And then you motherfuckers bring up the blog in a fight like I'm supposed to be all broken up that no one reads it. Smooth, guys, smooth. Say it again , I bet it hurts this time.

Oh, as long as I'm giving out public service announcements for people who don't read this, I'd like to inform anyone reading this that the Marques de Caceres also has a Rose wine made from the same Rioja grape. It was delicious, thank you for asking.

Anything else to share? I don't think so.

So I'm just sitting around tonight and thought I'd give a little lazy shout out to those of you who read my blog and those of you who 'don't'. I'm doing nothing but hanging out in bed and losing in poker and reminiscing on things past and present. We're still officially in a flux place in life right now with nothing settled. There was a time in my life when that would have scared the hell out of me, but it's alright for the moment. Sure, there have been moments when the carpet's been pulled out from under me, but the long and short of it is that all is well, even though I have no idea where my life is or where it's going.
But...
But it's going to be alright.

For the first time in months, I started studying for the Series 7 exam, for example. Future planning.
And I've been writing. Nothing new, but I continue to hack away at a second draft of my existing story, and the fact that I can is a good sign. We'll hit a year since I wrote it in August during an extremely empty trip to France and by then I should be close to done or perhaps I'll start another one.

Podcasting set to begin soon too. We'll hope things go better with new podcast partner.
Heh.
Like that was the problem.
"I'm sorry, Crip, we're going to call this quits because of creative differences about the direction of the podcast."
For those of you who ever listened, I'll tell you that I mentioned Al Gore's beard one too many times and that was the thing that set her over the edge. I'm actually planning things for the next time including bits and pre-produced morsels of hilarity. So we'll see what happens... Not going Crip and Mobo this time either. We're staying off the boards and going more mainstream.
But don't worry, I'll still shamelessly whore to you motherfuckers who don't read this stuff.

Anything else? I don't think so. Was originally planning on California for July fourth, but that won't happen. Now I'm staying here and it'll be grand. Then down to New York to see Ricky Gervais at Madison Square Garden, then a Virus Tour stop at PNC in August. And beyond that, I don't have much going on.
We'll see, though. Always planning, always have something on the horizon. That's the secret.
Never stagnate.

Oh, and next spring I'll apparently have a Canadian visitor too, which will be hilarious if she thinks she knows the rules of the game. Heh.
Zing.

And within art shall we bleed.
Take us home...

Strange crossed worlds I'm living in right now.
Strange days indeed.

I was just thinking about the eyes that cross over these words here, somewhere in conjunction with my post of last week or whenever, and it's just strange. A very strange idea that people from so many different walks of life would be going over these words, people that could, should, and would never meet.

So as referenced by Dream Theater - to those who understand, I extend my hand. To those who don't, or if you just think you know me but have never fucking gotten it right, then I extend my cock and you can suck it. Honestly. Fucking done with your shenanigans.

I wonder how many 'not you' e-mails I'm going to have to field after THAT one. Heh.
But it matters not.
Today I'm feeling good. It's Tuesday, so in real old school fashion, I poured myself a gin and tonic and am listening to Liquid Tension Experiment. I have stories in my mind and poems I can write. I'm angry and happy and content and upset all at the same time, and that's just fine.

Humanity.
For the moment, I'm sort of basking in it.
We'll see how long that lasts.

It was my choice though, when I reached into the flame and scratched my fingertips against the embers of desire and shame, and then I had the audacity to raise my fist to the sky when the burn went too deep. Just as when it comes to fall upon my knees and die, that too will be my choice, or at least a culmination of the choices of my life, not all of which I wanted to make.

And yeah, Trish.
Sometimes it gets boring.
And sometimes it hurts.
And sometimes you want to throw in the towel and wonder what the hell you're doing here.
And sometimes you admit to horrific things like Cin, just trying to get a reaction out of people.
And sometimes you beg and plead for a response and there's nothing but an echo that is also forsaking you.

But what are you going to do?
Stop?
Honestly. Not in our vocabulary.
Very few people actually read our shit, and of those people, very few people give a shit, and of those who give a shit, very few will ever actually say anything back to you.

But still we write.
And we don't even know why.

So write.
It might be shit, it might be drivel, it might be completely unentertaining and self-serving and boring. But write it anyhow, you can't help it, you may as well.
Hell, I do.
Honestly, why do I post here? So that eyes that I don't want prying can come read my words, divine meaning that isn't there, miss the meaning that is, and come back to me after the fact with indignation or mockery? Honestly, there are better ways to spend one's writing talents.
But I don't.
I write here.
As much as the wall may be there, I still expose myself religiously.
I make myself vulnerable for you, and for what.

For your love? For your affection? For your lust?
Or worse... for your understanding?
No.
It's not about you. It never is and never was.
It's about me. This is my time now. And as much as I censor my words and dance around topics, this is my bloodletting to make sure the pressure doesn't start to rise.

For the moment.

Until it becomes more than that.
Much... more.. than that.

Bleed us, baby. Take me home.

Alright, so that takes care of that.
In a traffic jam no less.

Oh.
You.

Welcome folks, big and small, short and tall, wanted and wanted, loved and unloved, to the CrippledAlbino blog. We've agreed that it sucks that it brings nothing to the internet. We've agreed that it actually shares nothing about me, so the why becomes a little ethereal in terms of why I do this or who I'm doing it for.
Once again, for those of you keeping track at home, with the exception of about three people, this blog is read only by people who I don't want to share my information with, and of all the people that I WISH checked in every now and again to see what's going on, none of them do.
So, yeah.

Went to Atlantic City this weekend with a friend and finished 25th out of 80 in a poker tournament. I had a great time, had some great hands, and never really expected to last as long as I did. It was still quite a treat, though. She came in like... 18th or something and couldn't stop talking about the A7 that she should have gone all in with.

No, and I shouldn't have gone in with my KJS but I did, and got beaten by pocket aces. It's just part of poker. Part of poker is that sometimes you do the wrong thing and lose. It happens to everyone, or else everyone would be rich from playing cards.
Now I'm back in my half-cleaned apartment. I started cleaning on Thursday finally and now here it is Sunday and I may just finish. Throw some Th3ee on and keep tidying. I'm gonna cook myself a steak tonight, this much is sure, and it represents the first homecooked meal since last week.
So that's a good thing.

A few of you have inquired about my mental state.
Let me inform you all that it was a tough week, but by now I'm not as raw and all is basically well in my world. Sure, there are fleeting moments of 'well, fuck' but I think most of those are past me now.

Now it's just a question of everything else not being all fucked up in the future.
So far not.

So that's that.

Those of us who are internet exhibitionists like to shout out into the world and have it be heard. A friend of mine has just posted a blog wherein she tossed out some fairly shocking facts in an effort to be heard and to get responses back. We'll see if it works for her. We don't hear anything as a people. Now yes, I know I have you three readers, and you read it and you comment, and it's cool.
But I'm talking about for the most part... we're just sedated in our numb little cocoons and nothing makes it through to us.
I said "COcoons," you racist fucks.
And mostly people don't hear anything at all unless it relates to them, unless it makes them feel like they're part of the 'us' in the world (you all seeing a theme in my thoughts these days?) and then they'll comment and the dialogue can begin.

Some day I'm going to change the world.
But for now I'll settle for someone who can make me bleed.

Another trip, baby.
Take us home.

Poor Rosie.
Don't worry, I wasn't worried about whether or not you were posting replies or not.
Crippled Albino, show, even though I'm feeling all lost and distant right now. I need a beer.
Molsen XXX tonight for me.

The same old story, but the names have all been changed.

I just want to state something for the record.

I have the shittiest blog in the world. I really do. Why, Crip, do you have the shittiest blog in the world? Because there's never been more of a self-censored piece of garbage that has ever been fucking written down. I used to pride myself in just saying things as it is, but now the only people who read my goddamned blathering are the people I'm fucking not interested in sharing this shit to.

Alright, person.
I'd still let anyone else read this stuff.
Well, almost. Fuck.

And goddamn it all, I need a forum! A fucking man who rants on a keyboard in an empty room has no catharsis! I don't know why, but even though I could very well just write everything that I'm feeling on a blank page, it does nothing unless I'm... uh... entertaining. So what the fuck does do for me? Nothing, because when it comes right down to it, I'm shouting my blathering dribble on three different websites for what, two chicks and a host of prying eyes who want to judge me?
Sounds about right.

Fucking hate the judgment.

So let's see, what's in the news today? I YMBed Wackbag today. The blood is too bad right now, and I just can't stand to draw my eyes over some of the posts that I'm seeing. Some people just have the ability to just get under my skin, and they did today. So it was advised that I take some time off. First instinct was to say fuck off, but as I got to thinking, I realize that in a lot of cases, I really am the problem. They can all have each other...

I get in there, and start causing all this trouble and drama. I'm causing trouble over here, I'm causing trouble over there, I'm too opinionated about this thing, I'm too opinionated about that thing, getting in between this person and that person...
Like it was just a big ball of good feelings before I got there.
So whatever. There you go, have each other. Now that I'm gone, everything can simmer down into sweet nothingness  and I'll just go cause my poison elsewhere. A few guys suggested I get over it and stick around because SOME people like me, but you know what?
I wont' be missed.
Let's be honest.

No one ever does. That's part of what I was saying yesterday. I'm not a part of any 'we'. I wish I was. I need it. I need the 'we'.
But what do I have?
I've alienated everyone. At every stage of my life there are people that I've alienated. I've been rejected and in turn have done plenty of rejecting back.

Seriously, now.
Truckee? Where are those friends? I stopped talking to them when I got to Arizona.
Arizona? Excommunication slowed that down, but even the other friends I had... gone.
Boston? What, that first year I had a few people that I talked to, but eventually I get into that relationship and everyone falls off. EVERYONE.
It's my own fault, but damn.
Where does this leave me?

Now, granted.
I do have a few.
But less than I thought I had.
Closest friends are people that I've known for months.

Although my buddy called me the other night.
Hours from my whole worldview changing, he gave me a call. I let it go to voice mail because, let's be honest, I had better things to do.
But he called me back the next day, after the worldview had changed.
He had some great advice for me, though.

Lay off the whole 'excommunication from a religious cult thing' for a while.
Not a bad plan. Although I'm pretty sure that's not where it went wrong.

That's not where anything goes wrong, is it?
Boy, I've fucking rambled this time.
So there you go, unwanted eyes! Look at it, enjoy it, bask in it! Read into my sentences and figure out what I've REALLY been up to.

Still waiting for the numb to come.
Until then, forgiveness scares the shit out of me.
Another trip, babe. Let's do it.

And we are a fragmented bunch, aren't we?
No such thing as unity, no such thing as group identity. We come from everywhere ripping through the world and we hunt for the ever valuable 'we.' We want to be a 'we,' and relate to people, learn from people, be spoken for by other people and speak to other people, and there's really never that connection with other people. There never is a we, just a bunch of mes.

That's as stupidly metaphysical as I'm going to get all day long, I think.

A few orders of business.
First, it's been quite the journey over the last few weeks, and while I'm definitely not going to promise any additional shitty blogs, I do know that I think I'll be expressing myself more frequently. Not sure how yet. We've decided after two episodes of sub-standard (they WERE getting better...) podcasts that we are going to shelve the Cripskocasting. It was a good run, there were some ideas that were still in flux, but it's not going to be working out.
I know, you all are completely devastated by the news.

However, I am not going to stop podcasting.
And will not stop auditioning for third... well, I guess second mic, so if you've got ideas, post them or e-mail me for the chance to win a coveted spot on another mic.
Can't wait to see how many of you motherfuckers will be beating down my door to get in on this one.

Does anyone actually read this shit? Seriously now. If three people read their eyes over these words that I post on three different websites, I'll be fucking amazed.

Second of all, I said what I had to say and am feeling better now. There was a lot of rage and bile in me for a while, and I had to look back months, maybe years to see a similar amount of pain, but that too passed. I think it will be a good source for creativity in the coming months, but I'm almost coming to a serene place right now. Zen, and it's only been two days, or two and a half.

But I've learned some things about myself.

As time goes on, I'll be incorporating them better, but every day is truly a day where I can learn new things. Basic things, like trusting my gut, like not settling for something that's not entirely what I want, like keeping true to myself, like expecting the truth, all of these basic things that every human deals with are things that I'm learning daily from everyone that's around me.
Strange, right?
Thirty years old and still learning how to do the most basic of living.
But then again, perhaps when you stop learning, you die. Or become stagnant. Or who knows what.

I'm rambling.
I always do.
None of you are listening anyhow. Can't blame you. I don't say anything. For all of my ranting about speaking freely, I self-censor as hard as anything as I've ever seen. I know the eyes that cross these pages, and they aren't the eyes of readers who want to be casually entertained.
Maybe some day.

But not today.
Another spin of the globe, folks.

That's right, world.
CripskoCast #2 is available for human consumption.
LISTEN - as Hilarity Ensues
HEAR - as the laughs roll and roll and roll
EXPERIENCE - the shameful self-whoring done by universalremobo to become the third mic guest on our awesome program.
VOTE - on whether Mobo has what it takes to ever be on another podcast ever ever ever ever again!
http://crippledalbino.podbean.com

I know, Cin.
And I'm sorry.

Welcome everyone to the Crippled Albino show.
This is another one of those quick updates that actually doesn't update any of you on anything at all. Many of you know.... well, hold on, scratch that.
One of you is aware of my podcast.
That's right, I've had one listener from all of you who used to read my blog. Of course, I acknowledge that I've done everything in my power to alienate all of you, but still. That doesn't mean that you aren't completely entertained by my dreck and drivel.
Heh.
No, I know, I'm not even entertained by it.

So, let's see. In my news, or at least the news that I'm going to share, there's another podcast on its way this weekend. Another Cripskocast, with special guest universalremobo. Of course, many of you reading this don't know who that is, but it's not important. It may be entertaining, at least we can hope it to be so, and even if you skipped out on the first, you can still catch up. Perhaps you can even participate, oh hilarity of hilarities.

In other news, my cat is on the mend. That's right, he was near death for a short time and I was scared to death that there was going to be major issues, having to do with and relating to his poor little kitty urethra, that apparently became blocked with some sort of crystal that is blocking him, and when that happens, it can be fatal.
So here are my options.
I can either have him treated at the vet, or I can bring him home and let him die.
Estimated cost of services: $960.
ACTUAL cost of services: $1040.
Fuck me in the goat ass.

Actual words to the doc after price was discussed: "Boy, you people really know how to fuck me, don't you?"
Heh.

Otherwise, nothing major. French IP addresses listening to the podcast, sick cats, future podcasts, dealing with rumors and other hilarity... But it's been quiet. And it's been good.

And there you are, an update on my life, that does nothing to explain anything.
Heh.
I love the vagueries of internet blogs.

Another rotation, heading toward another trip around the sun.

Bring us home.   

Here it is, folks.
The world famous CripskoCast
And I KNOW y'all motherfuckers have been waiting.

http://crippledalbino.podbean.com/