Friekin Armpit I am On the Verge Of A Leavin'

So now it's that time where I say goodbye, I'm leaving town for the night and I am really going to be worried about all of your lives, what will happen when I leave, could I have done something if I were here, prevented it maybe even, who knows.
These are the kind of questions that keep me up at night for about five minutes. This is the kind of responsibility I have on my crooked calcium deficient shoulders, the ones that are not even fit to be cried on, let alone carry what amounts to a pretty big chip.
Hopefully everything remains the way I left it, and I want you to just go out and have a good time without me, don't worry your pretty little heads about me, I'll be out living it up, worrying myself sick about all you people, but it will be just fine, I know it will be, I hope.
Maybe I'll even bring you all something nice back, just to let you know I was thinking of you while I was in Milwaukee, cause I might be, you never know. Let's try this, around ten, well I'll think of all your smiling faces, and you picture me alone in a corner with the filthiest porno magazine that they can legally sell in these here United States in one hand, and a big glass of chocolate milk in the other, a red t-shirt with my face on it, and some dark brown pants that you've never seen me in before, but you'll be damned if it doesn't seem like I've always had them, red socks, Reebok pumps, a latex glove on my head in homage to Howie Mandel when he was actually funny, before he started bringing hidden camera clips of himself doing supposedly wacky things. Maybe, just maybe if we both do this at ten, maybe something magic will happen, but I'm just telling you know that you should not be surprised if nothing happens, but you know, maybe it will.
Also I'll see all you rotten bastards on Sunday at the Guerrilla Artfare down in front of NAT, this time we mean business, not business as in we will be selling anything, and not business as in "He was really giving your Aunt the business in the coat closet at the family reunion", but the kind of business where it means we are really going to just give it our all, because that's all you can do sometimes really isn't it.
Thank you for your support,
Rick Cork

Wake Up and Smell the Goat Cheese Anton, It's Go Time.

Welcome one and all, boys and girls, dumb and stupid alike. This is what is happening in your neck of the woods whether Al Roker is into it or notAlRoker.com. So the world is going to hell, so there are the bombs, and the weather is a mess, and we are running out of oil, and you can't find a job or pay your bills, and goddamit nobody lives you, well that is fantastic, you know why? Because you are alive, you are alive to experience all of this mess, and you will be alive when it all gets better,(maybe, I'm not promising nothing), or if it doesn't get better.
We are not living in some isolation tank, no boy in no bubble, you are out there feeling and living through the pain of everyday life everyday, and that is amazing, because you weren't even supposed to make it this far, but you did dammit, and there is nothing better than beating the odds black and blue day in and day out. You go to your room and look through those obituaries and then you go outside and thank your lucky stars that even though your name is not the days headline in the daily rag, at least it's not in the obituaries, not today at least. Keep your chin up baby everything is looking up for you, we're going to make it after all, and if not, damn them all at least we gave it our all.
You my friend are a lifelong champion of the highest degree, and I am the luckiest man alive because you are spending a few minutes here with me reading my goddamn blog. Now go outside and have a good time, it's good weather for living out there you lucky son-of-a-bitch you.
Thank you for your support,
Rick Cork

Hey it is the super happy fun time after all

Hey everyone, it has been a while but well I've been absolutely busy doing jack shit, ha, ha,ha.
It's nice that you stopped by today, to say hello, or just to hear what it is I have to say, to tell you the truth I missed you.
We were released from work early today due to the threat of rain, this is what is called a roofers holiday. There is no secretary holiday, no fast food worker hoilidays, no Kinkos holidays, no sort of janitors holiday, but a roofers holiday, yes,yes,yes.
I made a sandwich for lunch and I went to eat it, and it was covered in ants, welcome to the mundane my friend, but that is life, is it not?
I have an art show in Milwaukee this coming Friday, another chance for me to stand around uncomfortably drinking and watching people as they go and look at my "art", until they feel my gaze upon them, and they walk away uncomfortable. This is the only way I know of to level the playing field. I like doing the work, I enjoy that part, but putting it on display for strangers, that makes me uncomfortable, and then trying to sell the stuff, trying to being kind and cordial, attempting to give them the feeling that this thing on the wall is something special, well it's not exactly the most natural thing for me, but I am trying, I am.
I guess that's about it, I thought that I had some heat going into writing this, but it quickly evaporated into the smoke and mirrors road show that is this blog.
Oh well, I'd say I'm sorry but I have no reason to be, I am learning to be civil without groveling. The three easy words, please, thank you , and sorry, try using them all in succession the next time someone does something for you and watch the magic happen.
Example:"Can I get a beer pleas, thank you, sorry." Bam! everytime.
Thank you for your support,
Rick Cork

A Daily Affirmation (for the Buddhist Gangster)

Today is going to be the bomb.
Everything is all good, there is no diggity doubt about that.
I am the shit, and I am confident about this and know it in my hi-zart(heart).
Today I will not allow myself to love them hoes who would hate on my quest for ultimate happiness.
I will bust a cap in the ass of all negativity.
I will keep my mind on the dharma, and the dharma on my mind until I am sipping on that sizzurp called nirvana.
And when the day has run its course, may the sandman's jimmie run deep, so deep, so deep it puts my ass to sleep.
Thank you for your support,
Rick Cork
p.s. I posted a picture so you know who you are dealing with. Please do not get me confused with any other local eccentrics, note the mustache, he does not have a moustache, and you know who I am talking about.

Your Main Man at Super Happy Funtime Central
Me

I am turning over a new leaf.

It has come to my attention that some people don't like the way I run this show, it is not upbeat enough and is not the nice thing to read. I want this thing to soothe your aching soul, I want it to be the last thing your read before you go night-night, dreaming of angels and that sort of shit.
We can make it, we can pull through the rut of negativity that has been kind of the focal point of this thing, and we can rise above it, the same way a Jesus or Buddha or Charles Manson would, in bold fashion. The actual reason for starting this thing was to get folks downtown to take part in this Gurrilla Artfare thing, and in order to attract people we can not continue in this vein of negativity, no more longer will your mellow be harshed. Instead your mellow will be created by reading this, you will experience a sense of calm tranquility, you are getting sleepy, very, very sleepy.....
(Okay now that those folks are sleeping I would like you other folks to know, that although I will try to be a little more upbeat, a little more BeeGee-esque, I cannot promise it will last. I would like to have this thing be a little more fluent and altogehter more helpful and informative, but I myself am not often this way, and so their will be some days where I do bitch and moan. My goal is to be as honest as possible, and less sporadic, and maybe not so much of a buzzkill.
I do not have my own access to a computer so sometimes these things are not well thought out, sometimes they are rushed and half-assed and all-around miserable. Anyway, thank you to those who understand, and even those who do not.)
Thank you for your support,
Rick Cork

I jambed my thumb.

Basketballs, she's been bad to me lately. Saturday while playing with some big sweaty hooligans I jambed my thumb while going up for a rebound, boom, the ball landed straight on this damn thumb of mine. I wake up the next day and it's purple all the way from the tip of my thumb, a quarter of my palm, down to about an inch down my wrist.
Then I spend the precious time that I have which is dedicated to doing nothing practical or purposeful, playing fucking video game basketball. Let me tell you this fucking team thatI am playing is just shit. They always seem choke when it really comes down to the wire, and they cannot shoot a three pointer to save their miserable pixalated lives.
Today I attempted to foul all of my players out of the game in protest of one the the computer teams players refering to my Chinese center by a racially insensitive slur. The thing is they wouldn't let me foul out all of my guys, or even forfeit the game, so some of my guys ended the game with seven or more fouls. I ended the game with 71 fouls, and they beat me 161 to 59. I believe in my heart of hearts that it was a just protest. It really showed me that these guys could work together to make something big happen, bigger than any basketball game I'll tell you that much. The solidarity they showed on that computer simulated basketball court moved me, I wish I belonged to something that cared about me that much, and who knows, maybe I do and just don't know it.
Also, on another note, for some reason I was kicked off my coveted spot on the Hall and Oates mailing list. They had sent me an E-mail concerning either Hall or Oates getting some kind of disease that led to the postponement of their upcoming tour. I sent it to several people, some people I didn't even know, and I guess this was private information for people on the Hall and Oates mailing list only, and so I have been kicked out. Perhaps someone had reported my alleged wrong-doing, maybe they just know, who knows, I guess I was in the wrong and if so I apologize, out the side of my mouth and under my breath as always. If anyone has the time you could visit the Hall and Oates website at:HallandOates.com and reccomend they reinstate me, but to tell you the truth I don't care. The e-mails were always impersonal, and you could tell neither John nor Daryl wrote them themselves, the words just sat there on the page, it had no soul, no blue-eyed-soul, and that really ultimately let me down enough to let them down.

Bands currently on my shit-list(and they know why and it is personal)
1.Tom JOnes
2.Fishbone
3.Hall and Oates
I have learned to seperate the music from the people, but any further recordings by these artists after their initial inception onto my shit list is considered null and void, it does not exist to me. Thanks a lot you bastards.
And thank you for your support,
Rick Cork

Guess what daddy is bringin home for supper?

So how is everything? How are the kids, the job, all those things? Good to see you, whoever you are, welcome to my blog. I'm glad you found the time to stop by and pay a visit, it's been awhile I know, but I knew you'd be back, you always come back, you're sort of spineless in that way aren't you. Always have been, even when you were a kid, am I right, you know I am, godammit you know it. How come you don't write back, huh, why don't you pick up the phone when I call, what's your deal man? Get your act together my friend, or daddy's gonna start bringin' home some of those old fashioned ass whoopings that they outlawed after the invention of civilized society, you will miss those lumpy things you call knees, I have no doubt of this in my mind.
Ha,ha,ah,ha. Yeah you fucker, lets get this fucking boat back on the goddamn tracks or whatever it is that boats travel on, water, get it back on the water.
Thank you so much for the support,
Rick Cork

The 4th, yes of July you shithead.

The fourth of july, oh what a day, magically red white and blue appears all across the landscape, suddenly everyone is eating a hot dog for lunch and dinner, and not because they are broke, although many of them are with this economy, ah-ha. I got strangely patriotic while watching the fireworks, I obtained what could be called a special feeling in my gut, a feeling that could be described as proud, not for what we are becming, (which I on the whole consider a bad thing) but instead for what we have the potential to be, the grand experiment continues no matter how bumpy the road may be getting. No matter if you disagree with the policies, the implementation of kookie provisions in crazy "patriotic" acts, put all that aside and you tell me of another place with this much potential, this much stinking charm. I know it is not perfect, but where is, where is fucking perfect, where is there a country without some outrageous blemish peeking out from beneath the carpet, without a skeleton full of atrocities, all over the world, no matter where you go there are secrets and pasts that are being buried away, believe it. But here we can speak out, here we can do something without being silenced by murder, here can can eat well enough to have the energy to fight and be heard, to change policies with our voices instead of with our blood. You can write to your congressman and senators and tell them how you feel, hell it saved NPR and PBS with only a million or so letters. It may not be perfect but it's ours damn it and we damn well do something to fix the old girl up before she ends up in that great big history book in the sky, and not the upbeat section either.
Thanks for your support,
Rick Cork

Where do we go now..

There is some sort of magic working in the air, it's well damn right excruciatingly obvious to me at least. That's right it's annual brun the drugs up season in the town. Every year around this time the police get together and burn up all the illegal drugs they have gathered over the course of the year, and they burn them all up. If you noticed the folks in the neighborhood acting strangely lately, this would explain why of course.
Thanks for your support.
Rick Cork

Rough ass week.

Let me tell you folks, what a rough ass week, out in the sun on the roof top being cooked alive for eight dollars an hour, better than a turkey who cooks for free, but not much, at least he has the fact that he is dead and feels no pain on his side. I on the other hand do feel pain, air so thick you feel as if your are either chewing or choking on it with every breath you take, every hateful word you speak. Covered in wood dust, tar, and shingle shake, water that taste like sweat and dirt no matter how careful you are to wipe your mouth with your filthy shirt.
This is the life for me, for now, and I am content, probably because I did not have to work today, and knowing that I will be drunk and feeling no pain within the next few hours.
Did I mention the house we were working on was on a farm, did I mention the smell of cow manure and urine, the mountains of bugs in the 120 degree attic that I swept clean, alone, me and a broom,shovel, and a little blue tarp.
Thanks for your support,
Rick Cork