IF YOU RIDE YOUR BIKE, I'LL TAX YOUR SEAT...

Another hearty hi ho fuck you to the IRS. I filed my taxes, to federal, state and the board of equalization today without including checks. Landescape Productions is not in full operation until I get those ads advertising my Deposit Man books and I have some records of ever showing a profit. No one has come down on me yet for not filing after I'm through displaying at comic book convention because I haven't MADE A PROFIT off what I paid for the table or booth, etc;.

I owe the IRS something like $700 bucks. The State owes me around $305.00. Tell the state that the IRS is welcomed to my refund and to put the $ 400 remaining on my tab.

I can't afford to cut a check right now- not when I'm in the process of moving and trying to get a new book off the printer.

Of all the unpublished Deposit Man manuscripts I salvaged off my ancient computer that's probably older than the Chariot of the Gods - I got to say, the second issue in the Deposit Man: Playgod series (the mini-series to follow the wrap up of the Deposit Man & The Last Great Gate of Mortality) in which the Deposit Man teams up with Henry Miller to fend off the enticing ebony clutches of the Josephine Baker inspired Caramel Princess is my utmost favorite of the whole series. I was reading it while I was engrossed with a pack of cigarettes while it was printing out. I think I outdid myself as a writer on this one - I don't even recognizing myself writing it two summers ago.

Anyway, just wondering out loud.

Welp, tonight I'm moving stuff to my new digs with the help of some friends and their cars.

Thinking about buying a new tv that's compatable with my DVD player. Some of these old sets can't connect up to this new technology.

Big major pain in the ass, I know.

I need bedsheet, a comforter, a dresser, and a reading lamp. And some movie posters on the wall....

Well, let's see how it works out. I'm leaving to deliver my first rent check to my new roommate.

~

Coat

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART LIES AND WHERE THE HEART LIES BUT WHERE IS HOME?

Transitional phase.

I'm moving out tomorrow of a house that I've lived for nearly eight years and into a apartment with two roommates and I'm completely in bugfucking awe of in the mountain of shit that has piled up on me for nearly a decade.

Last Sunday morning, we all rented a truck. The morning mission was to drive to Northridge to unload a storage unit I've had close to 13 years and take that back to the house in Sherman Oaks and load it with more stuff, say about 90 percent of it and combine it in with the old stuff and take it up to a new storage unit that I'm now nearly paying double the rent from what I was paying on the older one- however, the rent is split with Obi Wan Dan because he is storing some old files from his insurance office in with my stuff, until he retires in a few months to make a permanent move to Las Vegas. This collaboration will probably last us for six months. By state law, you have to keep records of cancelled or out of force policies for a period of five years. Learned a little something while I was moonlighting for Farmer's Insurance.

I think time has finally caught up with me.

I was thinking: geez, next year, 2005 will mark the big 2 0 anniversary since I've been living in the state of California, and I can't help but wonder - isn't it long overdue that I should sit down and catalogue some of this stuff? My landlady, aka Obi Wan Dan's manic depressive wife made a so-so comment (as opposed to her usual nasty anti-semetic and racist ones) that for the past ten years that she's known me, she was absolutely flabbergasted of all the shit that I wallowed in and how the hell I was able to keep it all in that little room?

Well, after some careful pondering- I've come to the fateful conclusion, that I've never really gave much thought to it all. It just sat in piles. However, I don't dispute that this has been a serious wake-up call for me.

It was mass murder on the muscles to be lifting thirty two odd long boxes of comic books, and ditto for...hold your breath now...thirty odd boxes of VHS tapes, mostly stored up in folded boxes that you buy in bundles of six or seven from Staples. I was needlessly obsessed with taping every episode of the X-Files, Dark Angel, Millennium, and Smallville before DVD made such an impact on my life. 10 or so stored boxes of unpublished or published manuscripts. Three boxes full of Compact discs and two crates full of DVDS! I've only had a DVD player for a year and a half and already I've got two crates full of DVD?. Some I haven't even had the chance to watch!

What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I in my right mind? I'm one of those who bellyaches of my Californian resident of not conforming to not owning a car, should have the right to be carting around warehouse full of books and tapes?

In other preparations, I've spent the past two nights printing on my dinosaur dox matrix printer, all the six to be yet published Deposit Man scripts (make that five, one is going to the printer at the end of next month.)- in case this dinosaur pops itself into extinction during the moving process, I will have the security of knowing that my life's work has been persevered.

The past eight years, the accumulation of all this stuff just goes to show that one shouldn't prematurely count their blessings - Yeah, I've worked in a comic book shop and I was lucky enough to get all my stuff at fifty percent off retail, and it immediately ceased to be once John died and Rookies & Allstars closed its doors Now, much to my compulsiveness, I discover, working for a major studio seems to be unleasing another hidden beast wth all these employee discounted DVD and CDs. Some at 50% off!!

~

Coat