CATS AND SKUNKS IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD Part 2
Continuing with more skunk shenanigans on the wild habitat front of rural Sherman Oaks.
Things weren't as bad as yesterday. It was the last night that my landlords, Obi-Wan Danobi (I call him that, because he sort of resembles Alec Guiness) and the Dragon Lady (I'm not going to bother explaining that one) were out on vacation and things should be pretty much back to normal. Everything they go out vacationing to Mexico or Palm Springs, I'm in charge of running things around the house which is sort of a shrine to long deceased actor Jack Haley (the Tinman on the Wizard of Oz) of who they bought the house from. I don't know if he died here or not, but it's certainly one of the most unusual places I have lived in. Going on eight years now. So my main function is to keep the place spotless because when they go away they cut off all the basic amenities such as delivery of the LA Times (and they leave me the inferior LA Daily News as reward for my services in addition to the very dirt cheap rent I pay) and no non-English speaking housekeeper on Mondays. That means I have to water approximately 79 plants in the back and front yard and keep the pool clean and filled. The cats have to be fed twice a day. And I mean, the cats- not the skunks.
Yesterday, Larry Nadolsky dropped the ball on me and said he can't continue on with the Deposit Man in the same capacity as he is known to do due to a big account to design some pig drawings for some new t-shirt franchise that this guy is starting up. Sort of like my father used to do when he designed an entire line of t-shirts, coffee cups, and pillows except with fish caricatures. We sort of reached a compromise and that I would check in with him after I self published this new Deposit Man book and ask him again in November when I want to get the second act out in time for APE next year. So he said he would try to lay the pages out and have someone else fill in the rest - so Oliver Simonsen is willing to give it a shot if the shoe decides to drop. It's imperative that I have Larry involved in some capacity because I don't think anyone could ever take his place- because I feel no one can convey the characters emotions as much as he can in terms of facial expression. I mean, the Deposit Man may not actually have a face (a little item I subconsciously borrowed from Ditko's The Question) but for some unfathomable reason- his renditions are priceless and I wouldn't want to change it for anything else in the world- but I know, the collaboration is going to crumble one day simply because it's hard with all the distance between us and the cost of communication via phone and fed ex packages- and since he's out in the boondocks of Manitoba, Canada- internet connection is not so widely in circulation out where he is.
Oliver thinks I should spin off the two Hare Krisna imposters I have panhandling in the Beverly Hills Connection mall in the opening scene of the new book into their own series- I admit, it sounds tempting. I should inform Clive Nolan, keyboardist of the band Arena and Matt Goodluck, the band 's ex-vendor and sleeve designer man about this idea since I based both characters on them- but I'm wary that it might come off as a swipe off of Jay and Silent Bob- however, they're supposed to be English and in this country illegally, so that might be an advantage.
So while I'm yakking all this on the patio- goddamn if the skunk wasn't around to tried to sneak into the house- Right under the table and inbetween my legs- while I'm talking on the phone. Luckily my cat intervened and hissed at him and he ran back to whence he came- with me out of the way of course. This skunk is everywhere all of a sudden. And I I know I'll be in the proverbial cold shit soup if I either got bit or scratched - those guys carry rabies like you wouldn't believe. That cat of mine is a life saver- but he would place himself in mortal danger if he was locked in claw to claw combat.
The supervisors I work with are becoming such a big pain in the ass lately. This morning, one of them went through all my shit on my desk and rearranged things just because it looked unkept to her. I felt like going into her office and kicking her teeth in-- but then, that's why we have unions, right?. I basically told her to go whine to the boss if she doesn't like it and leave my freakin' desk alone. My keeping my desk untidy, and I mean, slightly untidy. (my messes are very well orchestrated, thank you) is nothing that supposed to affect my job performance. It's fucking invasion of privacy!
So is taking a picture of me without permission- of which I will go into great lengths tomorrow.
~
Coat
Continuing with more skunk shenanigans on the wild habitat front of rural Sherman Oaks.
Things weren't as bad as yesterday. It was the last night that my landlords, Obi-Wan Danobi (I call him that, because he sort of resembles Alec Guiness) and the Dragon Lady (I'm not going to bother explaining that one) were out on vacation and things should be pretty much back to normal. Everything they go out vacationing to Mexico or Palm Springs, I'm in charge of running things around the house which is sort of a shrine to long deceased actor Jack Haley (the Tinman on the Wizard of Oz) of who they bought the house from. I don't know if he died here or not, but it's certainly one of the most unusual places I have lived in. Going on eight years now. So my main function is to keep the place spotless because when they go away they cut off all the basic amenities such as delivery of the LA Times (and they leave me the inferior LA Daily News as reward for my services in addition to the very dirt cheap rent I pay) and no non-English speaking housekeeper on Mondays. That means I have to water approximately 79 plants in the back and front yard and keep the pool clean and filled. The cats have to be fed twice a day. And I mean, the cats- not the skunks.
Yesterday, Larry Nadolsky dropped the ball on me and said he can't continue on with the Deposit Man in the same capacity as he is known to do due to a big account to design some pig drawings for some new t-shirt franchise that this guy is starting up. Sort of like my father used to do when he designed an entire line of t-shirts, coffee cups, and pillows except with fish caricatures. We sort of reached a compromise and that I would check in with him after I self published this new Deposit Man book and ask him again in November when I want to get the second act out in time for APE next year. So he said he would try to lay the pages out and have someone else fill in the rest - so Oliver Simonsen is willing to give it a shot if the shoe decides to drop. It's imperative that I have Larry involved in some capacity because I don't think anyone could ever take his place- because I feel no one can convey the characters emotions as much as he can in terms of facial expression. I mean, the Deposit Man may not actually have a face (a little item I subconsciously borrowed from Ditko's The Question) but for some unfathomable reason- his renditions are priceless and I wouldn't want to change it for anything else in the world- but I know, the collaboration is going to crumble one day simply because it's hard with all the distance between us and the cost of communication via phone and fed ex packages- and since he's out in the boondocks of Manitoba, Canada- internet connection is not so widely in circulation out where he is.
Oliver thinks I should spin off the two Hare Krisna imposters I have panhandling in the Beverly Hills Connection mall in the opening scene of the new book into their own series- I admit, it sounds tempting. I should inform Clive Nolan, keyboardist of the band Arena and Matt Goodluck, the band 's ex-vendor and sleeve designer man about this idea since I based both characters on them- but I'm wary that it might come off as a swipe off of Jay and Silent Bob- however, they're supposed to be English and in this country illegally, so that might be an advantage.
So while I'm yakking all this on the patio- goddamn if the skunk wasn't around to tried to sneak into the house- Right under the table and inbetween my legs- while I'm talking on the phone. Luckily my cat intervened and hissed at him and he ran back to whence he came- with me out of the way of course. This skunk is everywhere all of a sudden. And I I know I'll be in the proverbial cold shit soup if I either got bit or scratched - those guys carry rabies like you wouldn't believe. That cat of mine is a life saver- but he would place himself in mortal danger if he was locked in claw to claw combat.
The supervisors I work with are becoming such a big pain in the ass lately. This morning, one of them went through all my shit on my desk and rearranged things just because it looked unkept to her. I felt like going into her office and kicking her teeth in-- but then, that's why we have unions, right?. I basically told her to go whine to the boss if she doesn't like it and leave my freakin' desk alone. My keeping my desk untidy, and I mean, slightly untidy. (my messes are very well orchestrated, thank you) is nothing that supposed to affect my job performance. It's fucking invasion of privacy!
So is taking a picture of me without permission- of which I will go into great lengths tomorrow.
~
Coat
posted by Coat @ 4:50 PM
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