Invader Tim

The Chinese curse goes “May you live in interesting times.” Yes CURSE, not truism, not blessing.

Despite the turbulence of aught-five, it was pretty good. The dude abides and all that. And I like me some good old fashioned chaos every now and then. Everything was cool in the motor pool.
Until now. Yes, my car was stolen. Joke’s on them though, it’s an unsafe death trap. I don’t wish ill on any humans, but I really wouldn’t mind if my car killed them in a weird Maximum Overdrive sense. Or that other Stephen King Movie about the car that murdered people, Carrie or Christine, I forget. Note I didn’t say ‘Stephen King’ book because Stephen King books are kind of unreadable…no matter what anybody says, his movies are better. But I digress. You would too if you were preoccupied with this.

You want to know the maudlin part? I had some Christmas presents in the car that I got from some people. (As opposed to a marmoset presents. Them's some pretty generous animules though.) And I had some of the “rockford: Small City” Pictures in there too. So, now my art has taken me to a new place. Yet another group, I have yet to join until now. The artists I know who have had shit stolen from them. Yay me. Fuck it. They’re digital. I can make more in two ticks.

To top it off the prop known as the Auto-suck was in the trunk. May you live in interesting times.

And I’m shaken enough to do the unthinkable. I’m shall break cannon.

And reveal how my car is known as the “Chitlin Mobile.” And indeed how chitlins have come to loom so large in the legend. It was my orignal plan never to tell. Just drop reffs in a vacuum. For, after all:

There are things mankind are not meant to know. (Notice 1. my British use of the collective noun ‘mankind’ and 2. The accidental use of antiquated, sexist language. I don’t care. I just got my fuckin’ car stolen.) For instance, SSG is forbidden from telling me what the deal is with rib meat. (But true to my prediction, I have started calling people that; look at the last frame of .) And, I’ll never tell you folk what the story is behind the secret workings of the rice cooker. You have my word. But in honor of my departed car, here we go (spoiler alert):

It actually starts with my previous car. The Mustang. The muffler fell off, but in such a way that it also unraveled. In essence, a flat-ish piece off sheet metal leaned forward and scraped the road. As the horrific shocks (that most likely helped the muffler get fucked) bounced along merrily, and with a strangely cohesive pattern, I thought I heard something special. Order from chaos…I told you that I loved chaos. And it may have been the jaunty rhythm, or the carbon monoxide flooding the cabin, but I imagined a tune. A folksy number. And sure as shootin’, it sounded like a washboard…

And that tune needed lyrics, and if by a CO induces dream (that’s carbon monoxide, not Colorado—though that’s nice too), the lyrics just popped into my mind.

Chitlins, Chitlins!
Red-hot Chitlins,
Chitlins, Chitlins,
Ain’t them good?

So, the Mustang became the Chitlin Mobile. And after the muffler fell off my LeSabre, it was the chitlin mobile Mark II. You know I had a damn LeSabre when I was in high school too. (I don’t love the cars—just the way luck had it), and the mufflers fell off that too. But, it was cool. I had the muffler suspended with the finest, well-crafted coat hanger.

I didn’t say it was a good story.

The positive: it would be well nigh impossible for me to get a DUI this New Year’s Eve. Though I guess things could take a turn for the chaotic.

Epilogue: as I type this out in Word, I notice that there is a squiggly under “LeSabre.” I could add it to the custom dictionary, but what’s the point?

theprogrum.com

Merry Progrum everybody!

In 24 little hours (or less), you will be able to eschew the cumbersome URL “timstotz.com/vodcast” and use the svelte, modern, “theprogrum.com.”

For you fans of the classics, you will be able to enter the old address still.

Just be sure to say, “That’s right, buddy. That’s with a ‘U’.”

I join the rouges gallery of nifty, collectible, animated chitlins.



Actually, I have one already. I was first, but that one, you can barely tell it’s me.



I think we need an SSG Monkey Dance soon.

We got a new clip of some tomfoolery and out-takes in the Extrees section. It is toward the bottom.

Go now! http://www.timstotz.com/vodcast/extrees/extree-gal1.html

We have Ashley: Giant Miss Rockford, and a Gorilla with a bowling pin. You read it right.

Also, don’t forget to add your self to the map: http://www.frappr.com/theprogrumpeople

I wish I would have thought of this before all of that PhotoShopping, and carrying on. Just get on your damn knees, Timmy boy.

Lookit Gir towering over me!



My how I do drink.

This was from my birthday (yeah still going on about that). I was in a drunken hugging mood. Every time I hugged, Gir, she got mooshed into my manly pecs. So this is with the tables turned. Her idea; not mine.

Thanks, Ange. for taking the picture.

Btw: I figured one person would get the reference on the animated driver’s license? Pagliacci? Anyone?

What a cuh-razy coupla days, ribmeats.

I turned 33. Did you? No. Well, it’s not for everybody. You should try it sometime. It’s not that bad.

My birthday is seldom a big deal to me. I often forget it. Till right up on it. Well, not only did that impact potential drinking arrangements, it almost made me—brace yourselves—break a law. (ZOOT-A-Loor!) I had to get my license renewed and I almost forgot. I had to take the written test again. You wouldn’t think that after driving for around 17 years that I’d miss any, but I missed:

-a question about the limitations and consequences of driving at night with only a learner’s permit.
-some bull shit about car seats and 8 year olds. Strap the little fucker to the hood for all I care.
-and I had differing ideas of the factual details of driving 98 MPH while snorting coke off the steering wheel and getting a hand job. They were against. I was for.

But, I got the DL anyway. As a strategic move, I tried to look drunk in the pic so if they pulled me over, they’d just be all, well I guess the poor bastard is just fugly and junk.



After that, I had to hand out tickets for Engine Studio night at NAT. I went to octane and drank a lot while I did that.

The Next Day, was the actual NAT event. Great Show. Good turnout. I’m gald so many of you stepped out…and I’m alsoglad that you stopped out to Kryptonite later. It was Engine appreciation night there too. Chris Rocks. The fact I turned 33 at midnight escaped very few people…and in addition to the free keg, there was a lot of shooitng things.

One shot I’m glad I didn’t do: Chirs and I talked Nina into hanging form some contraption upside down and doing a shot. Now, Nina is vertically gifted, so Chris had to lift her up a bit because she was so tall, and her head (and consequently her mouth) was really low. Well, poor gal got banna-themed booze in her nose. I got to wear her hat, and looked like my other friend Chris E.

The next day was my actual birthday. We just hung at octane for the most part. Most of the gifting took place in the form of booze. And lots of it. The one material good I received was Season 1 of Coupling. I already had it, but I loaned to a friend who moved away. Even before the shrink-wrap was off, I loaned it to two other friends. I’m a giver.

So, to those a part of it, I think you for a great couple days. And those who couldn’t make it. You never know. Given the givens. I think it’s not too far a stretch to say I’ll make it to 34. I hope to see you there.