The best thing about life, Is knowing you put it together

"They look like big strong hands... don't they?"

Water rolls down the skin like tiny beads..
Eyes close so that they might see.
Illum tangendo (touching him)
This sun is a star in someone else's sky
Illum tangendo (touching him)
This moon is making someone cry...
Illum tangendo (touching him)

Captain PirateFace say's "Ahoy!"

Captain PirateFace say's "Ahoy!"
Updated by, Captain PirateFace

This is not an Exit

Never Say Die!!!





























"the tigers have found me
and I do not care."

Charles Bukowski



there is no fear here

there is no fear here
there is a fear here

Thursday, March 29, 2007

Hey Pigface...wanna hit this "Blood of Christ"?


Well, Fuck Me SideSally...
{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
Yet again I am in trouble for certain folk in my life being fucking nutjobs. yep.
This pisses me off to no end as not only does it fuck up my night but the whole weekend shall follow.
Yay for me. Fuck-a-doodle-doo!
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
I am currently enjoying a cover of "Last Caress" and "Green Hell", and it's performed by..... Metallica...and I fucking "hate" Metallica but God Damn I enjoy the shit out of this cover...

________________________________________


______________________


It is 12:35 as I write this and I have to get up at 4:30.
Folks, that is called "R-e-t-a-r-d-a-t-i-o-n"
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
I really got nothing.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
here is some crap.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Hopefully by Friday/Saturday evening I can be remotely entertaining.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
p.s. Got a supa-rad e-mail through ye ol' Myspace account... It seems one of my damn fliers actually worked into luring someone to this fantastic cesspool that is my blogspot.
A big thanks to her for letting me know it worked and for the very nice comments on this atrocious writing I vomit forth.

Love The Captain

________________________________________________________________

"What does he do for a living?"
"I think he draws stick figure pornography and sells the pictures to kids on the playground."
"Oh? That's not a good thing."
________________________________________________________________


The Feeding

To tear the meat off the bone,
grinding it between rotten teeth.
Saliva mixing the meat into a wet grey color.
Sliding down the throat looking near to what it will look like when expelled.
Watching Grandma eat... no horror film could compare.


Like slitting the throat of a passing ghost

we thought ourselves impervious to these nightmares.

victimless and heroic in bubbled and closed off realities.

beautiful elegant atrocities in bloated fat bodies in tight, tight cloth's.
When it's time for the world to end and for reality to collapse upon it's weakened shoulders...
that is the day our sadistic and vicious lord...
Set's us free.





FUUUUCK,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,goodnight and i swear to try fucking harder next time..............

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

sleep...needed (sail away)


"Where I was going, it didn't matter. The journey had it's share of: Hilarity and Madness. Pain and Forgiveness. Heartbreak and Melancholy. Love, Lust and Passion. The farewell party was a grand thing, opening up bottles of beverage that I couldn't even pronounce. Hugs and Kisses and little handshakes with well wishes. An Atomic explosion. A moment of Holy Redemption at the return of Jesus holding hands with Darwin. I love you all.... in the sickest, strangest most fantastic way."


-Speech by Captain PirateFace before sailing away into the darkness of Shark Filled waters-















P.s. A lovely young woman of my past asked that I send her a copy of my pathetic attempt at a zine.... as she is one of the "only" few who regularly read my rubbish I must oblige. If any of you out there in the wicked world would like one as well, Please e-mail me at: CaptPirateFace@aol.com

and I will send you out a zine and a special "gift" post haste.

Godspeed and lot's of chilling love.

Captain PirateFace
"Here's to Swimmin' with bow legged women!"
-Quint-














































Am I getting better or worse I wonder?

Sunday, March 25, 2007

we sink like broken ships in deep, dark water.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at <span class=
Welcome to the Meat Parade!




Hola,

So... here is how things have been as of late...

Last Thursday me and "The Frank" went to see the band "Plain White Tee's". (Frank had won ticket's from the radio station AREA108)
We luckily missed almost all the opening bands except a band from Canada who's name I purged from my mind in hopes that all memory of them would vanish. The singer looked as though he was stuck in 1976 (and not in a... Kickass Retro way either) and the music was an un-inspired emo/hardcore/What the fuck is this shit style. Plain White Tee's took to the stage and I realized instantly that I wasn't going to dig their sound. It's just to Lovey-Dovey-I'm gonna get my sorority girlfriend loaded on booze and put this CD on and screw her in the pooper in the name of love. It's not that they can't play their instruments, it's just that it's all the same song but at different tempo's. I would have madly loved them if I was a Frat Dude with highlighted tips on my spiky, already blond hair or a Sorority Girl who thinks because this band has a somewhat punk beat they are "totally" like into rock and are living on the edge. (yes there were plenty of those two at the show and they all danced along to the music just as I imagine they would dance to music in a Vegas hip-hop/techno club). And I would probably have loved the band if I was a pre-pubescent teenage girl who no longer think boys are "icky" and are writing notes to all my friends rating all the "Hot" boys on a number scale (1-10 respectfully). Oh and if you like the band... I do apologize... that you enjoy that shite music.
Let's just say that I am glad that I was on Pain med's, Muscle Relaxers and Booze to get me through the show.

p.s. If you were one of the random people I gave my new "Ghetto" zine too, yes... I "the chunky, tall weirdo who looked like a super dork who handed you the zine" was me... your humble Author... Captain PirateFace.

Friday we went "Ghost Hunting" (Pictures will be up one day when I am not feeling so damn lazy) with The Frank, Jon Giddinge and my new friend Laura. The Lowdown....
We laughed our asses off more than we got creeped out.
We have a few pictures with "Ghost Orbs", if you don't know what that means... go to Wickipedia and look that shit up.

And tonight/last night I got to enjoy a very good band at a much more personable venue...
Death By Stereo at the University Theatre.
The opening bands... (which I cannot recall the names of) held their own and had amazing sound in their respectful styles. And the ticket price would have been well worth the cost for the opening bands alone, but....
Death By Stereo fucking rocked and it felt nice.
My wife and devil son came to the show as well and the creeper, Gabriel had a blast.
If you have seen Death By Stereo, you know that no review can do them justice... it has to be experienced. And for those of you who have not seen them yet... It has to be experienced...
here is a picture of my wife and my boy with the main man of Death By Stereo.

___________________________________________________________________

As far as my mood swings and their intensity goes... still there, still no damn fun.
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at <span class=
___________________________________________________________________

and for your viewing pleasure, may I present to you a scanned copy of my new zine by the same name as this horrific blog "Pornography On The Radio" which will be put out monthly on and at the First Friday event in Downtown Las Vegas.











__________________________________

I asked two Very good buddies of mine (Ben and Tony) if occasionally they wouldn't mind doing illustrations for my more "funny"-"Fucked"-and "Strange" ramblings...
they both said "Heck Yeah!"

My first poem/rambling I sent to them was this:

A day of fucking up the bad dudes
He pulled up in a motorcycle
The villains around him stopped dead in their tracks,
One large brute yelled out "Get Him!!!!!"
At which our hero replied "Wrong decision little pal",
Pulling a small sidearm out and taking aim. They fell fast and hard, this had been too easy he thought.
Dr. Ape was smarter then any average ape... hence the title of Dr. Just then the ground began to shake and a large drill bit penetrated the surface of the earth... The dust began to clear and our hero could see Dr. Ape at the controls of a large robotic suite with drills for hands and flamethrowers built in. (For added effect of course) Dr. Ape yelled out "Finally I will destroy you and your silly Government!" "Don't count on it you primate!" heroically our hero yelled back. Taking aim he shot at the weakest point that the robotic drill techno terror had, Dr. Apes head. As Dr. Ape lay dead our hero stands silently staring off into the sunset. "Another one of these day's and I just know I'll get heartburn." as the sun sets our hero walks back to his bike and rides off to thwart evil in some other far off land.

My first response is from Ben Hall at www.blueskycomics.com, Posted Below for your viewing pleasure! (As soon as I get Tony's that too shall be posted.)

Enjoy that shit? I sure as hell did!!!!
work... That Ben Hall, what a If you did please head on over to www.blueskycomics.com and check out this craaaaazy bitch!! Gotta Love Em'!
_________________________________________________________________

On with the inane ramblings of a complete psychotic madman.

Enjoy...
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at <span class=
?
??
???
????
?????
??????
???????
????????
?????????
??????????
???????????
????????????
?????????????
??????????????
???????????????
????????????????
?????????????????
??????????????????
???????????????????
????????????????????
?????????????????????
??????????????????????
???????????????????????
????????????????????????
?????????????????????????
??????????????????????????
???????????????????????????
????????????????????????????
?????????????????????????????
??????????????????????????????
???????????????????????????????
????????????????????????????????
?????????????????????????????????

An exchange: a pound of flesh for a pound of gold.

She begs me.
Like starving…
She drags a wet tongue across the glass.
Pleading eyes and the steam fogging the glass with hot breath.
Begging for it.
Begging for me.
Even through this pretend obstructed lust,
through the false want…
You can see a sad tired face.
Dragged through a thorn bush world filled with humiliation and several heartbreaks.
And I almost always lose interest… “almost”.
I slip in another Twenty and she presses bare breasts against the glass, flattening her nipples.
Feeding my fantasy…
As I inadvertently… feed her bastard kids.



Pretending the winner is me…

Smiling.
In the winners circle.
Like a jackass.
In a dark room with pre-recorded applause…alone.
Nobody to watch the grinning idiot staring at his reflection in a broken mirror.
Clapping.
Reckless and ridiculous.
His golden ticket.



A Jesus state of mind

she opens up this darkness to me.
I am safe.
secure.
in utero.
snuggling in the wet darkness of the womb.
The Embryonic sac turns to wine for the sacrament...
Light pours in.
I am bathed in iridescent blue light.
Excited I die quickly and the world collapses unto me.
I emerge from the sun victorious and deranged...
Smiling for you.
Smiling for them.
My love will atomize your hearts.
And he sun shall burst with love, love, love.



Like a floor model mannequin

The relationship had grown from lust and seduction to Love.
And from love that same relationship had rot to destruction and anger,
pain and sex.
And that same relationship lay dead on the cold floor broken and busted like a floor model mannequin.



Robots and Robots and this seduction that feels "too" damn good...

My God this Sci-Fi breakable wind up toy heart has done me no damn good!!!
That night we lay on our backs watching the stars explode demanding wishes to be granted by God. Holding each others hands and then bodies to keep one another warm from the offending cold weather.
The telephone calls that we cleverly orchestrated when the hate bubbled up to bring one another to tears... and even though the words had all been birthed from lies they still stung like a needle slowly pushed into the skin.
The breathing machines and the life support cords we yanked out of walls, keeping our demons alive and well. The smile we gave each other, so coy and clever when we thought we had beat our fears.
We never knew we would have to fear one another.
The way you gave up on me, claiming that there would never be enough robotic parts in this world to fix all that I had broken inside me... all the parts you loved.
My blatant love for you even as that strange little alarm clock heart came tumbling down and breaking...
Giving off one final Coo Koo bird cry.
And your final walk away from me..
Only glancing back long enough to let me see the tears on your face, to let me know that you too, were hurting.
Lastly, my cowardice as I watched you walk away into the night as I stood there beaten and not brave enough to command my heart to love, my soul to feel.
The moment our star exploded.



Waiting for the clouds to part...

The rain will pour down and wash my skin of the sin and the doom I have wrought upon this world. The darkness in my cloths and the dirt from my hands and under these fingernails will be carried away with the water into the gutters. I will breath deeply in the air cleared of the smell of death and rot. Music will fill my heart and my soul will be dancing. And when the sun breaks through those amazing dark clouds, the light will not cause me to shrink away and hide in dark corners or the inside of bottles of poison... No, I will open my arms and embrace the sun. I will finally rise up.
Never alone again...
Above it all.

_________________________________________________
"Not so funny humor"
Presented and illustrated by Captain PirateFace

______________________________________________________

Goodnight, Good Luck and Fornicate Like the God Damned Wild Beasts you all are...
In a good sense of course...

Captain PirateFace
(And she said to him about the nefarious Blogger....)





go see the gangsta G at www.myspace.com/artbygina
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at <span class=

Saturday, March 17, 2007

they beheaded the martyr and milk instead of blood poured from the wound....

It sings and dances and spitz in the God damned eyes!!!!!!!!!

In the middle of the night.......
That sinking feeling. Those teeth sinking. My heart sinking. My body sinking.

Hello all who feel compelled to visit my dirty plot of land. Word is I have been passing out early nightly? I am here to squash those rumors and say... Yes! Abso-fucking-lutely true! I now get up at 4:30am to get ready for work and after I get home from working 2 jobs (first one=right on! 2nd one=Shoot me, Please) I pass out sometimes while taking a shower, sitting down for dinner, in my bed, etc...
Word.

I hope you all are doing well, if not... go fucking cry about it and start your own whiny blog so's you can piss and moan all the damn time like so many other whiny fuck writer's (just in case some of you are on the "slow" end, yes I am being Ironic... I am well aware that 85% of the time I write, I write sad little notes of desperation and heartbreak..tee hee).


Go Here------->
????????????? to say "CONGRATULATIONS" to my wife

for being voted "Best Artist" in the Las Vegas Weekly's Readers Choice Awards. To save you time as to see what I am talking about... lookee below.
+ =

So, not much else to say. I am going to be updating some of our fucked up "Ghosthunting" pictures as soon as my lazy ass feels compelled.
Oh, and below you shall recieve your update doseage of fucked ramblings and inane thoughts.

Peace, Love and Chicken Grease....

Captain PirateFace


---I am in need of some dirty sexual lovin'---?
____________________________________________________________________













The thought process of a convicted pessimist

days go by and grow darker.

these days go by and grow shorter.

mortal madness takes hold and holds tightly...

suffocating.
strangers eyes are turned down.
the eyes of god are turned away.

the telephone has passed away and all the television channels are static.

sky is dark overcast and the shadows in the house have eaten up all the light.

my light.
and it's nights like this i hear a weeping and search the house for this sad spectre...

always ending at the mirror, looking into dark circled eyes and a face wet with tears.
What have we become?




Returning the Angel home


the rocks wait for the comforting crash of cold dark wave.

the sky waits for passing storm clouds to bring it's misery into the ocean and to fall on the earth.
she waits patiently in small dark rooms for a perfect love that will never arrive.
he sits in the dark scribbling out the pain for her, and the perfect love he cannot bring...
waiting for a miracle.

on the shore a single angel stands listening to their sad stories...

wingless and heartbroken.

he listens to the waiting rocks.
the waiting sky.
and the waiting lovers.

shedding a tear he slowly walks into the surf, returning home knowing he has failed.




they beheaded the martyr and milk instead of blood poured from the wound...

we all felt that dying was the proper thing to do that evening.

we ate like rabid vermin and filled the long halls with the stench of sex and sin.
we took blades to the art and built a bonfire in the middle of the largest room.
we felt deeply sorry and had a long night of prayer.
we felt that God had forgiven us and so in that gave ourselves a very nice funeral service with small wood crosses that we had carved the night before.

we felt cool earth fall upon our newly dead features and said goodbye to daylight.

we fell into oblivion and we felt that maybe we did a justice by getting rid of the tyrants.


p.s. as in "by the fucking way........"

my wife at 3:26 am... waits to strike. to lash out and stifle my cheap creativity. Annoyed with the tapping of keys on the keyboard... the light from the monitor. Next time she paints, I am going to watch a movie very very "loud". Ask 200 fucking questions... and aggravate her while she attempts creativity. I understand this little "hobby" of mine doesn't bring in the $$$. But for fucks sake... Shouldn't I be allowed to be the writer to her artist?
the end

on that note....
sweet dreams and goodnight?

Captain PirateFace

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Oz is over the rainbow...


To die in such a lovely place in such a horrible manor.......
so strange....















on with the mother fucking ruckus...





walls

passionately you step outside protocol...
You walk away from the bleeding and the dead and place your interest here in the dying.
You vacate the room leaving a microscopic trail of wet misery in your salty tears.
The hand alone and misguided into holding on to one another instead of our vacant lover.
Quiet wishes wasted begging the miraculous return of the deceased straight back from Hades.
Your soul is in torment as the soul you seek is on a playground a hundred thousand miles away,
giving courage to a little boy with crutches to go down a slide crutch free.
Just proving the point that, maybe...
just maybe, this world does not have to be so bad every waking second.



the things you hate the most.

Welcomed in a tight grip full of broken glass and blood.
Hiding the pain or just putting it into a different subconscious file.
The look in those eyes tell savage stories...
Stories of heartbreak and fear.
Death and misery.
The smell of it reeks upon you.
One small piece of metal found buried in your heart.
Waiting like a discarded rape victim.
Poisoning the blood with rust.
You smile.
Later eating fire and cowering angels.
You make a perfect coward.



keep doing what you do

God has left something imperative out of me.
As in, I am broken and in need of repair.
A walking contradictory.
I feel out of place in this skin.
Begging to tear off these facades and be the real me…
Whom I have yet to meet.
Tell me who I am.
Tell me how I should be.
Am I doing alright?
Am I living this life correctly?



failed humanity

the street outside begs for me to be alive with blood on my hands
with fur in my teeth.
Drinking in the violence.
I am the worthless.
The prowling cold.
The smiling salesman…
A penny for your thoughts?
A trade of information?
Walking off with your most vital secrets,
While you hold heavy handed my gift to you…
A balled up fist full of nothing.
Trust me.



Words left on your empty pages

This time it will be truthful.
No intricate lies.
With a heavy heart and a mind rot and plagued with melancholy.
I beg you all not to judge me.
Remember I am a fragile human just like the rest of you.
What parting words could I offer to anyone?
Could I be clever?
Could I be scathing?
Could I reject God?
Could I embrace the Holy Spirit in hopes of absolution?
Most likely… not.
I could tear you all up with the honest truth.
The truth I promised not only twelve lines ago.
Shake you all up with revelations.
But, I love you all too much to lay such a cathartic heavy burden
on your already much tired backs.
Sweet dreams sweet loves.
Goodnight kind family.
All my Love to you my son.

I am not yet ready to join such a dark place.
I hope and pray I never will be.
But I scare myself often.





(Just gotta love this kid...)











Goodnight............................................................



Captain PirateFace

How can you save me when you can't save yourself?

"nothing can save
you
except
writing.
it keeps the walls
from
failing."

Charles Bukowski