The Purple Pinup Guru Platform

When purple things are pulsating on your mind, I'm the one whose clock you want to clean. Aiding is Sparky, the Astral Plane Zen Pup Dog from his mountain stronghold on the Northernmost Island of the Happy Ninja Island chain, this blog will also act as a journal to my wacky antics at an entertainment company and the progress of my self published comic book, The Deposit Man which only appears when I damn well feel like it. Real Soon Now.

Friday, August 08, 2003


You're going to have to wait until Monday to get fed.

But fuck, why is it that the two worst topics that I hate most in the world are the ones that keep enticing me to read about it in all the papers?

Fuck all religion and especially fuck California politics.

I need a trip to Vegas.



Thursday, August 07, 2003


Are they joking me with this shit? Waking up this morning to the news that all the freaks and weirdoes have all taken a shine to politics? This whole govenor recall thing in California is seeping out of control. Porn stars and a porn publishing legend are all throwing their hats in the ring (porn stars will be substituting their G-strings) as well as a current popular box office star and a not-so popular actor. It even extends as far as a one time sexagenarian billboard queen wanting the big Sacramento chair- although seeing her drive around LA in a pink porsche would throw caution to me as not to shake hands with this candidate. Yep, the insantity is just getting the party started- it's as if both Ringing Bros Barnum & Bailey Circus & Circus Vargas decided to come in at the same time and set up from the opposite ends of the street from each other. Double the excitement, double the opponent campaign smears and double the snores.

I started to do some search engine inquiries into good ol' Batman baddie, Maxie Zeus. I've got something brewing in my head, but it's going to require finishing up with my re-reads of the late eighties, the Question comic book series. Holy shit, one of my co-workers showed me a picture on the net of DC Direct Question action figure. I'm going to have to posess that one.

Man, I'm going to be cutting it fine with my expenses for the next few months. But I went into a long-winded rant about that yesterday. I'm saving up part two of Uncle Neal's day at the Beach for next week when the Brits get back from the San Fran- you never know, it could get juicier.



Wednesday, August 06, 2003


The ripple effects from San Diego is causing havoc with my checkbook or either this Las Vegas Comic Con coming up Halloween weekend is just too soon to start worrying about. I sent off a check covering half of what I'm supposed to pay for a table. And jeez, it's just too soon to jump from one con to another. I don't know how people can make the transition from San Diego to Wizard World in Chicago, I just don't see how it is financially feasible for independent creators. I know from a self publishing standpoint there is no way in hell that I could afford to do both. But this new organization running the Vegas shows wants the balance to be paid in full by the first of next month- and I don't know if I'm going to be able to swing it. This is going to mean that there is going to be no DVD season set splurging for a while. Rent also has to be paid. Other outstanding credit card bills have to be paid off as well.

Let alone the cost of a table- my crew is starting to take shape. Oliver came by my house Monday to pick up some pages to take home so he can begin reformatting the lettering. A few hours ago, I set up a meeting with this guy with whom I want to paint my next three covers. I think this guy is phenomonal, and I hope he does a good job with the cover concepts I have in mind. If he agrees on taking the assignment (and my advance) I'll be telling more about him next week- but for now, his name will be known simply as 'anonymous'. Meanwhile, my editor and computer tech guy, Alan Sinder is living the high life vacationing in Tokoyo. Don't know when if and when he's coming back. The only drawback to all this assemblage of people getting together to work is- yep,....more moola to be handed out. Like I said, no DVDs for the month of August until (well,...I'm making an exception for Farscape) this is put behind me.

Maybe tomorrow I will expand on my beach trip- I've still got stuff to say.



Tuesday, August 05, 2003


Saturday, being so bored out of my skull and with no immediate plans to do anything (for once) but sit around and read comic books or books all day long- until my former editor and make believe younger sister that I never wanted, Becky came charging into the house and wanted to know if I would want to accompany her to Will Rogers beach, along with her daughter Olivia and her brother-in-law visiting over from England.

I said sure, no problem. She retorted cool and proceeded to order me to go get on some shorts and get in the car. So I went upstairs to change, grabbed my lotto tickets to play at the Seven Eleven, and some DC comic books autographed by Geoff Johns that I haven't gotten around to reading yet. Downstairs as I was tying my shoes and petting the cat- Becky sneaks up to me and tells me something in a whisper. Here is some dialogue that was exchanged between us.

"Dude, you know what?"


"I think my brother-in-law is gay."


"It's just wacky hanging around with him and him being around Olivia, that's all."

"Well, how can you tell?"

"He walks around with his left hand bent all the time."

"Did you ever think that maybe he has a condition or something- I've already remember his hand slightly bends ever time we have a conversation. It's probably because he's English."

"Whatever. Just keep it to yourself, ok? I don't want word leaking to his parents"

"Becky, jeez- his parents probably already know. What's the big freaking deal? I mean, I write tales of a super hero in the afterlife who admits to being gay."

"Yeah- but I know you. You just write about stuff- you always have too much vagina on your mind. You know- just drop it, ok? Forget I said anything."

So then we were off. We got stuck in traffic on the 405 and tried to switch to Sepulveda and to no avail- the traffic was just as miserable. But what the hell do you expect on a Saturday afternoon? While we were grid locked, we all joked around creating silly accents (which her brother-in-law was extremely good at) and Becky was making up stuff and everytime she'd say something remarkably silly, she would ask me to write it down on a piece of paper- why did she do just you may wonder? Well, for my Deposit Man books, she said. I told her I basically have it all written- but there was something I did find magically funny and I could probably make a line or two of it in the rewrite.

Olivia needed to go potty. So while, we grabbed stuff from Taco Bell and I went to buy some lotto tickets- Becky dragged Olivia to the woman's room and after a while she was fuming when we met up back at the car. She told me that these teenage girls were like throwing a party back there and was tired of waiting so Olivia will have to wait until we get on the beach and use the restroom there. Finding that we couldn't park alongside the Pacific Coast Highway for in fear of getting a $160.00 ticket- we pooled some dollar bills together (as I was low on cash after my taco bell and lotto ticket binge) and settled on some $8.00 parking on a lot- but by the time we got out of the car Olivia made a big stink about suddenly not needing to go to the bathroom anymore. Ah, to be young again and to suppress the urge to relieve your baldder- no longer possible in this day or age when you got Cousin Bud, Cousin Coors , or Cousin Corona hanging over your shoulder. Just as soon as we got settled with our beach blankets and chairs- Olivia changes her mind and needs to go to the bathroom. Her mom tells her we're not walking back and go piss in the ocean. Olivia doesn't want to piss in the ocean- she wants to use the bathroom. This goes back and forth until mom gives in and drags her kicking and screaming to the bathroom. Later, as I'm finishing reading my Teen Titans' relaunched #1 (how many volumes is this now) Becky gives us the field report as how fucking bad the woman's bathroom is and how she had to position her daughter over the toilet seat without her ass actually touching the rim. Becky's brother-in-law is too busy prancing around the ocean with a crown on his head made up of seaside as to so much as to give a shit.

You know, this entry was supposed to be about existentialism and how ideas can be expressed no matter what hair color, nationality, skin color, gender, or religion- but I guess it didn't work out the way I planned it.



Monday, August 04, 2003


No blog for you. Too inundated with the shitstorm that manifested in my in- box this morning - Which is a crying shame because I wanted to talk about my haphazrd trip to the Will Roger Beach with my 'psuedo sister' Becky, Olivia, and their brit relative- UNCLE NEAL . Should be interesting reading. Also I wanted to talk in length this week about DVD audio commentaries and the Oscar winner for best picture of 2003 - Seabiscuit. How can I predict the future? Well, a good handicapper should know- and anyone who sees this magnificant film who have the precognitive ability to pick the ponies for the next Oscar race. The fucking purse should be loaded on this one.

Uh oh. Looks like I'm next in line to be served by THE BLOG NAZI.