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.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006


Hey if telenovelas can be hip these days to feature such established washed up hasbeens such as Morgan Fairchild and Bo Derek - then blogs featuring such conflicting drama between a one time comic book professional and a retired porn star shouldn't be too much of a problem to sell to the blog network!

Here, go on and take a break from St. Sparky's usual rants on puppet kings and Republician kewpee dolls and get entwined once again in Chapter 4 of our continuing saga taken directly from the pages of

Almost Doesn't Count!! (But Not Nearly As Often As It Should)

Current mood: confused Category: freaking baffled Life

15, 22, 26, 27, 37 and mega # 23. Those were the numbers that were picked in last night's California Super Lotto jackpot.

What I had on one ticket: 23, 27, 28, 35, 37 and Mega 26.

Look close - do you see what I have?

If you see it - it doesn't matter - because I got JACK SHIT for it.

Well, as compensation, I did match 3 number on another ticket and two other tickets with the traditional one number and bonus number 15 and 23 on both tickets - of which I've been hitting the past five or six times. Total net was $ 14.00. But if that above ticket had matched correctly, I would have been looking at around at least $120.00.

The quest continues. Saturday's jackpot is now 84 million.

I want to thank all you people for the adds. My profile has been increasing by leaps and bounds. Almost up to 100 views already in less than a month!! (Now I'm way over 600 - stupid editor's note 10/18/2006 ) It's probably safe to say- that this is the best internet adventure I've ever been on since Delphiforums. It's great sharing the same cyber cubby hole with the likes of Kate Bush, Pendragon, Marillion, and Porcupine Tree, not to mention the new bands who've been introducing themselves to me with similar interests like King Bathmat, Persistence of Memory and Goondocks(?).

A shout out to all the ladies from the around the world of whose profiles I've been studying. I've selected a few so far from England, Spain, Germany, and France and I hope we can all be the best of friends and help each other in the long run. I hope they get to see a way that 'a real sensitive man' should blog - other than the prose defective clown I portray on my Purple Pinup Guru Platform Blog.

Which comes to a delicate point of which I may need assistance from you lovely ladies, posessing of knowledge.

I'm 42, in case people forget- and for the life of me - I really still don't know much about women per se. If anyone has noticed, the name of the girl that I'm deeply involved with, I keep changing her name in the blog - just in case, she would happen to log on here and see her name being flung around. Not that I'm going to send her an invite to see if it upsets her or not, but I would feel more secure knowing that her real name or stage name is left off for reasons personal and for her own safety. I don't know if I told you folks or not - but I've been romantically involved with a ex-porn star for the better part of a year on and off - and it's not as much fun as it's cracked up to be. Plus, if she were to find out, she would make me pick out a burial plot just to bury my nuts in.

I need some advice of how to really understand her. What am I missing here?

This is what happened just a few days ago.

On Monday, approximately 4:40 PM Pacific time- I left my desk at work to go to a meeting. Exactly one minute later - Rikki calls me on the cell and leaves me a message to call her back. I call her back two times - one at home and the other on her cell. She doesn't return either calls. I call her again an hour later after my work day or whenever I'm through farting around on this site. I get home at 6 both gates to our apartment complex (she lives next door to me in case you haven't figured it out) - and I see all her pool stuff in the courtyard. I walk up to her door and before I can knock - there's a huge sign hanging on her door saying: COME IN - I'M IN THE SHOWER !! What? Was that message intended for me?

Well, why wouldn't it?

Well- another thing is - she's also a highly priced escort.

Yeah, it's pretty much wacked out. After all, it could've been meant for a john.

So she opens the door in her bra and panties and says:


Then I ask her about what she wanted to talk to me about on the cellphone and she appears aloft and standoffish as she denies that she even called me. I attempt to show her the display message on my cellphone and all of a sudden, she changes her tune, repeating over and over- 'O.K, O.K- I believe you - now please leave because I'm not dressed. '

So I left - not wanting to jump straight into another conflict with her. I went upstairs, dragged out my keyboard, and started to see if I could ear train myself some Blackfield songs - and played a little zen piano, most particularly, a melody that I wrote for her months ago.

I pack it up at approximately eleven; not necessarily needing to keep the neighbors up awake longer than I have to - then just I'm about switch off the lights, I get another call from her on the cellphone - proclaiming again in some exacerbated manner of tone that she doesn't ever remember calling me. And again I explain to her that I have the message stored in my voice-mail, 'would like me to play it for you?' Then the call gets dropped - I figure it's useless to even try to call back because the reception is terrible in my apartment. I go back on the porch again to read some comic books before turning in. In the middle of a Moon Knight comic (profile coming up on the relaunch soon- another stupid editor's note 10/18/2006) , I hear the clump of her high heels on the stairs leading up to my porch.

Uh, oh- she's dressed in bright red high pants, and she looks very, very angry. Then she flings a DVD boxset of some Television academy screeners of Lost and Desperate Housewives that I gave to her last week, nearly slicing my head off along with it.

I run down the stairs of my porch and try to reason with her- pleading to her, asking why she is so angry.


"Then what?"


Then she goes inside her apartment to mix herself a apple martini. I said good night and left her to stew in her own wallow.

Around three or four in the morning - I'm woken up....yet again. I hear her down in her garage from my bedroom window. She's either talking to herself or she's on the phone with somebody. I could've swore that I heard her say out loud - And he says he still loves me. If I had heard it correctly and didn't imagine - yeah, I nonchalantly did tell her that I loved her out loud before I left for work the previous morning, but only to cheer her up and bring a smile to her face. I've been on a real high since I pleased her on her birthday with all those gifts I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, that it didn't dawn on me that anything could ever go wrong again.

But I guess sometimes, love can throw you a unpredictable curveball, even when you think everything is right as rain.

To cut a long blog short - She has since sent me several txt messages- of which my cellphone is not set up to return ranting about life's shit in general and asking me to leave her alone for a while. I guess I did the right thing but not getting into a heated confrontation with her. But I took the time a couple of days ago to pen her a long e-mail of which I'm going to show all of you in a slightly edited form.


I read your text messages last night. My phone isn't set up to text back. Just so you know, when you called me two nights ago, I didn't hang up on you - the call got dropped - I don't get a good signal upstairs in the apartment, in case you were thinking that.

You mentioned in one message that I was clueless- and yeah, I guess you're right - because I don't know why you're angry at me or if you're angry about something else entirely. I don't know if I did anything wrong. All I did was inquire why you left a voice message on my machine. All you said in the message was Hi, it's Lixi- call me back. You might have misdialed and meant it for someone else. I called you back three times. I figured that you were out at the pool when I was trying to call you back. So when I came back home and saw the note on your door to come in, I didn't know what to think because you didn't leave a name on who the note was supposed to be for.

Well, at least, that's my interpretation of it. Was I supposed to read into it more? I mean, I didn't want to harangue you about it - so I thought it would serve you better if I just dropped the subject.

I figured you may be upset because I nonchalantly said I loved you that morning. I finally worked up the courage to say it out loud for once and I wish I could say it more often to you. I say I love you for a good many reasons and I never ever really fully explain to you why I you and I think that should be saved for a face to face confrontation.

I dunno - maybe perhaps you wanted to see how much I changed or if I have had truly learned any lessons. I've always said that you, of the very few women in my life, have taught me a lot of things about life between the opposite sexes - and I'm trying hard, very, very hard not to repeat the same mistakes that I've made in the past with you. I've learned months ago, that yelling back at you or retaliating doesn't help me. Showing off my brat side only makes matters worse. And this time, I'm sticking to a calm belief that you're the very best friend I've made during my tenure here and I don't want to bring you any more unwarranted grief or come across like some pariah.

Whether you accept it or not - I knew from the first moment I saw you walk into this courtyard last year, it was inevitable that you were going to own me. I feel like that in somehow and in some way - that I am your rightful property and that's the way I'm always going to feel towards you - no matter how many curveballs get thrown in the path. It just doesn't feel natural for me to know someone else the way I know you. And to this day, everytime I see you, it still feels like my free will instantly gets zapped into orbit. I never fail to stammer and stutter in your presence - like that that stupid message I was trying to convey to you on your answering machine - I just get so nervous around you working up the courage to say what I feel rather than write it down- where that's my natural element. It's just the way fate works and I have no plausible explanation for it.

All I'm thinking about at this moment, is how am I going to cope with you moving? How am I going to get through the day knowing that you'll perhaps be gone from my life forever and how much it's going to hurt to miss you? That's the pain I'm dealing with right now and I wish to whatever deity that exists out there, I wish that sometimes I could cradle you or hold you in my arms and wash your pain away - but you said we can't be that way again and I respect your wishes in that aspect..

My favorite memory of you is when we woke up to each other one morning - just watching nothing but TV, my arm around your stomach and you slapping me every half hour or so to tell me to stop snoring (something that I never knew I did - see, being with you taught me something I never knew about myself ) and you proclaiming that we really just slept together - technically. That's a memory I'll forever cherish and it will always stick with me for the rest of my days.

I don't regret one single moment or one single gift I've given you. To me, you'll always be worth it and there are days when I hope I come into some measurable size of wealth so I could give you the world - or at least a house and some health insurance.

Like, $76 million in lotto prizes. I've got $30 down

Well, have a happy day...please, for me?

xoxox very much,


I wrote it to her to at least let her know that I didn't take it personally. I don't need conflict with her right now with her so close to vacating her apartment in less than a month. So please, to all the women who are on my add friends list - I'd appreciate any feedback you have to offer. Hell, any advice from anyone would be appreciated of how I can make this situation right.
I think a lot of songs on the 2004 Blackfield debut describes my despair. Especially songs like the title track, Pain, the Hole in Me, and Summer automatically spring to mind. I give Steven Wilson credit for parlaying my feelings to music this time around.

Sorry, this one came across as a bummer.



Currently listening : Blackfield By Blackfield Release date: By 22 February, 2005
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