It's Back

Guess what I woke up with this morning? Did you guess hives and swollen lips? If so, you win. You are also strange.

I know that in the past few months I have gotten a bunch of new readers who might not know about this mysterious and disgusting medical condition I have. To clarify things I'll briefly explain it. To those of you who have heard me ramble about this hundreds of times or seen it first hand, feel free to skip ahead.

A few years ago I got reamed by probability and contracted Mono and Lyme Disease at the same time. As Elaine puts it in Seinfeld, "It's like Epstein-Bar but with a twist of Lyme". Replace "Epstein-Bar" with "Mono" and you have a perfect description of what I had.

The ordeal completely destroyed my immune system. I started to get hives and swollen lips all the time. Eventually it just became heat induced (take showers for example) which still puzzles me and doctors equally to this day.

After doing some medical testing the general assumption was that I have an immune deficiency that results in Idiopathic Urticaria. Don't bother Googling that, it means "Un-explainable hives" and it's disgusting. I get them because my immune system is allergic to itself. In other words, I take self loathing to a whole new level. I used to be creeped out and ashamed by it but now I don't really care. In fact, I made some good art out of it last year. Fun times.

Point is, I have been getting better and better. In fact, for the past few months it's rare I see a hive at all. The lips? Forget about it! I haven't looked like Stephen Tyler in over a year, maybe two. The illness had just become manageable and I went to the allergists office for hours this week essentially verifying that. Major score.

Of course, things can't be too easy for your pal, Kevin. The day after I spend my entire morning at the Doctor's I woke up with huge, swollen lips.

It happened again today. Worst. I have a critique and intended on wearing my Star Trek outfit. I didn't want to look like a total freak so I took an antihistamine and iced it.

From 5:00 in the morning to 7:30 I sat in my living room sucking on an ice pack. Go do that, if you are like me you will be shocked at how much fucking hurts.

My thoughts on this? I am trying to put it together but can't. All I can say is:

Fuck,

Shit,

Goddamnit,

Ohmyfuckinggodshitdamnitthissucks

Really pissed me off. Let's see what tomorrow morning is like. That could make or break me.

The Most Dangerous Banner Ever

A few years ago where Allen Street meets Houston American Apparel (which had a store around the corner) used to toss up the most sexually explicit ads ever on a gigantic banner. It was fail safe and for a few years the ads would be notorious amongst my group of friends. What do you expect? We were teenage boys with hormones spilling out of our nostrils like nosebleeds.

The thing was, every time they would put a new girl up we would all say "O.K, I know I said this last time but this is it. They will never top this. They will give up" and almost always, a few months later, they would put up an image of a less clad, more attractive woman. Here is an example.

They did actually drop the ball once by putting up the famous Woody Allen poster. It was a major fail in all elements. They lost money and we lost hope. I love Woody Allen as much as the next guy (in fact, probably more) but staring at him every Friday night expecting a beautiful woman was always underwhelming. Fail.

Then there was the dog. Ah, yes, the dog. If you can tell from the picture above, the ads looked over a traffic island. When crossing Allen Street you would always spend a few moments on this cement safe-haven and have nothing to stare at. Naturally, your eye would wander. At first I would try to be subtle: I didn't want to look like a perverted monster in front of everyone in my neighborhood. As time went on, however, I made no attempt to handle myself with a shred of chivalry. I would stare with my mouth wide open, head at a 45 degree angle, completely motionless. From across the street you could always see men doing the exact same thing. It was hilarious.

One day I was with Carlos and we were looking at our favorite.  This one:

We had both seen it at least fifty times in our lives. He said "What a lucky dog" and I had no idea what he meant. After examining it I realized, for the first time, that there was a dog in the photograph. 

From that day on, every time I saw some dude staring at this gal I would say "Hey did you notice the dog?" and 90% of the time they would go:

"HOLY SHIT THERE'S A DOG IN THAT PHOTO?"

I guess the eye likes to filter details out, sometimes.

The banner is gone now and they never tossed a new one up. I'm sure a few people ran red lights because of these things and maybe we are better off without them. Lord knows I don't need to see that shit every time I walk home. 

I'd like to thank Carlos for doing the research and finding the image of our lost love. 

I sign off with a personal message to Dov Charney: Thanks for being such a sleaze-bag. 

Track Marks

My yesterday and bulk of today were spent in a doctor's office right in the middle of the Magnificent Mile. I have been going for allergy tests and as usual, they stabbed me up with things I'm allergic to. I sat in a room with bumps on my arms swelling up for a few hours while playing checkers on my ipod. I know what you are thinking and it's true: I live a really fast paced life. 

Today coming back from my morning appointment I was on the train and it was nearly empty. I didn't want to sit because I had been sitting all day so I stood holding onto the rail, arm fully extended. I swayed back and forth to pass the time and was having a good ride. 

That's when I realized the woman sitting in the seat beneath my arm was staring at me. Women stare at me all the time (I can't figure out if it's because I'm good looking or wretched) so I gave her a signature "Kevin Gannon Half Smile" and brushed it off. 

A stop later she was grilling me. She sighed, made that clicking sound with her tongue people make when they are disappointed in someone else and looked out the window. 

"Holy shit" I thought. "I'm that bad?"

I started to stare at her in hopes she'd tell me what was wrong. Finally at her stop (which, awkwardly was the same as mine) she stood up and said:

"You are going to kill yourself."

I was shocked. I thought maybe she was an oracle of some sort and had seen the future. Maybe somewhere down the line I off myself. Maybe I accidentally kill myself doing something stupid and she didn't choose her words right. She knew something about my fate. She was warning me.

"What?"

I was captivated. 

"Drugs. You are too young for that type

of drug and it's going to kill you."

I was so confused. I stared at her. I don't do drugs. Do I? Does she know something about me I don't know? Either way, the train was rolling into the station. I gave her one last confused look and said "Drugs?" and she made the clicking sound again. This time, however, she pointed at my forearm.

Track marks. From the allergy tests. 

I looked like a big fat junkie. I fucked up and meant to explain the situation but instead all that came out was:

"These are from needles!"

She walked off the train and I followed. There was a weird moment when I was behind her and it looked like I was going to rob her. I didn't though, because I'm not a junkie. If I was a junkie I deserved an award for such symmetrical track marks.

Also, in other news: I'm not allergic to Asprin like I thought I was! YAAAAAAY!

Ad Camo

I had to make a digital collage. Everyone knows I love using logos in my work. They are easy to alter, abundant and come with all the luggage pre-attached.

That's why I made this awesome "Logo Camo" piece. I'm picking up the 30x20 inch print tomorrow and can't wait to hang it above my desk.

Blogger is acting up and won't upload pictures. I had to use photobucket which doesn't scale them to the computer screen. If I were you, I'd click on the above image for the full effect.

-Kdog

Sobering

A lot of drinking gets done at most Colleges and mine isn't any different. I heard this Christian rap today and I have to say, it was pretty sobering*.

*Note my sarcasm. 

Wronng

I need help. Today I took the opening line from "The Day Of The Triffids" and decided to make it a big ol' gel transfer. It came out pretty dope and I was very satisfied. It goes:

"When a day you happen to know is Wednesday

starts off by sounding line a Sunday, 

there is something seriously wrong

somewhere"

Pretty amazing, huh? Like I said, it came out pretty dope:

Looks pretty good, right? I showed it to my TA and he pointed out a soul crushing detail. There is something seriously wrong somewhere. Can you find it?

I spelt "wrong" incorrectly. Sure, that sucks. Then I realized, wait, is that awesome? Could this mistake be a high concept piece of ironic genius? 

I don't know. You tell me.

Kevin? Kevin?! SNAAAAAAKE!

I made a post every day for like two weeks and then completely disappeared. Am I dead? Am I sick? Did I quit? Is everything OK?

No, no, no and yes. My Mom is in town visiting me so I have been super busy. Don't worry, though: I'll be back soon with clean laundry and a stomach full of momma's home cooking. Just give me a day or two.

Sorry, yall.

Light Box

As I wait for my photos I have a critique on today to transfer to a thumb drive, I thought I'd share with you the shitty DIY light box I made last night:

It was pretty rough around the edges, especially because I made it in twenty minutes. Still, the images came out nicely. I did a little series on trinkets that shouldn't be trinkets. Awkward trinkets. Offensive trinkets. Strange trinkets. Here is my favorite:

Ah, America.

Animal's House

Here at the Elk when I'm not toasting my feet by the fire, sipping on a cup of tea or working I set some time aside to play with the native animals of this apartment.

Mayor Arbuckle strolls around squeaking happily, avoiding foot traffic as best he can.

The baby SeaMonkeys frolic in their water protecting the gold coins left by pirates centuries ago that lay at the bottom of their ocean's floor.

All while this animal (the one that's on the top of the food chain) mills around, angrily mumbling about how the woman at Petco didn't tell him that the Guinea Pig won't eat anything that's not fresh from the produce section and complaining about how long SeaMonkeys take to grow and become awesome.

Cheers. 

Slow Saturday

I had my printing class today and boy-oh-boy was it a long one. It wasn't the class that was monotonous, no. It wasn't the art I was making, either. It was me. For some reason I woke up this morning and traveled at snail speed. It was cold outside, snowed a little bit (which sucks) and after crawling belly down to the train stop, leaving a trail of slime behind me I eventually found myself sitting in class, staring out the the window at this:

Pretty far from the snowy, shitty, "doodie-cacka" I woke up to this morning, yes?. That's good, right? No. Why? Well, I was wearing three layers, a gigantic jacket and a wool hat.

I was doing work but just kept sl o  w  i   n   g        d         o        w         n. 

I couldn't tell if I was crazy but everyone else seemed to be walking around and working like zombies, too. The print media department is all cementy and cold and eventually clouds rolled in which made things even gloomier. It was honestly, one of the biggest bummers of a day I have had so far. I started to check Facebook, Gizmodo and Kotaku over and over and over again. I couldn't even waste time if I tried. 

Even though I was such a blob I still managed to get a few good prints done. Here is my assembly line of Doctor McCoys...

...and here is a print I really like. I was going to make a book last year but never did and this was supposed to be the cover. I couldn't find the Photoshop file but it took no time at all to re-do.

I did a couple more of a few different planets and they all turned out pretty sweet.

Now, I sit on the Futon, legs rotting away as I fight the urge to doze off. I welcome Sunday and hope it's as slow as today. I'm sure, however, it won't be.

Balloon Boy Does it Again

I know some (or at least one of you) thought my last post on Balloon Boy ripping a big, wet fart during an interview was immature. If that was you, I would advise skipping this post.

Well, I was watching another interview with him again today and the kid topped his flatulence from last night. On live Television, he screamed for "a cup" and hurled chunks right then and there. It might be one of the funniest things I have ever seen play out on my computer screen. 

You can see it all go down at about 6:00 minutes in.

This kids my hero.

Balloon Kid Farts

Today I was sitting by the fireplace and I read about the whole "boy floating around the upper atmosphere in a balloon" fiasco. I tuned into the live feeds from a few websites. I was hooked. When I saw the balloon was empty I thought to myself that some poor kid was hanging from a tree  and that in a few days time his dead body would surface. Terrible, terrible stuff.

As it turns out, everyone knows the punk was hiding in the garage the whole time. There have been speculations that the family put him up to it. They already have a bit of reality television fame and some speculate that they wanted much, much more. 

Wolf Blitzer got an interview already and the kid clearly states that "They did it for the show" 

The Wolfman doesn't acknowledge this. Perhaps because he felt uncomfortable in the middle of an awkward situation. No, I'm not referring to the embarrassment of his family who just got exposed as complete douche bags. I'm referring to the disgusting, loud, wet fart the kid ripped immediately after fessing up. 

Go to 40 seconds in, it's hilarious.

No one has mentioned it. Am I the only one who hears it?

Can't Wait For This Book

In recent times I have been completely obsessed with 9/11 "Truthers" (as you have heard me mention a few too many times).

It's not really the ideas they believe in that fascinate me, it's the people themselves. Or, more importantly, what's driving them to think such ridiculous thoughts? I have been obsessing over conspiracy theorists in the past few months and am thinking of using the topic in a project or two come midterms. The idea that people can hijack scientific reasoning to help prove an argument that, in a larger scientific scale, seems flat out incorrect blows my mind. I need more info, though, and today I came across this book:

I just ordered this baby on Amazon a few hours ago (it was actually really cheap, $8 or something) and I cannot wait to get it. I, honestly, haven't been this excited about a book coming in a long time. 

Rev. Billy Talen vs Mike Bloomberg. FIGHT!

I'm not in New York these days so I found out pretty late that there were debates held last night for the next Mayoral election. I have been pretty torn lately because I really, really like Bloomberg but I also really, really like democracies and the term limits that come with them. 

Because I'm 90% certain the man I prefer is going to win I'm not that upset saying that, just on principle, I'm not voting for him. I have been considering voting for Billy Talen (who's pretty fucking cool) but am still on the fence. Last night the two butt heads. It was heated. 

In other news, will someone please get Dominic Carter his own show on a legit news station?

Just Another Tuesday Night...

I just made a rubber mold out of Preston's face. He is going to pour jello into it and do a performance piece tomorrow where he eats his own head.  Best part? Since Preston couldn't see anything I was able to flip him off point blank multiple times.

Just another night at The Elk.

Kirk's Wood

Last Saturday one of my classes did alcohol gel transfers. It's a pretty easy and nifty way to do a print because all you need is clear, emulsion coated paper (which is pretty cheap), a printer and some hand sanitizer. Essentially (from what I understand) the alcohol in the hand sanitizer breaks down the ink on the transfer sheet and voila, you have a print. 

We were supposed to do things in a similar series so I got some images of those who boldly went where no man had gone before. I brought home two that I didn't think were quite good enough to make critique but fun enough to hang on a wall back the pad.

Here is the Captain himself on a big ol' piece of plywood.

Here, the boys have their phasers set to kill.

I like these.

Bacon Weave

Question:

What happens when two young men are hungry and only have a pound of bacon and a shred of cheese in the fridge? 

Answer:

Magic.

For years mentions of this elusive dish have floated around the Internet. I have always been curious to taste the most glorious dish any mortal man could ever make. To savor the meal who's final step is divine intervention. Some day, I knew, I would.

Carlos had one once and told me it was less than stellar. I could not accept that. I decided that one day I would make one of my own. It would be stellar.

That day was yesterday. Originally it was only me in the kitchen, manning the flames of the oven and sewing strips of pork meat together like there was no tomorrow. I tossed the glorious cloak in the heat and soon the smell attracted Preston, who then became my kitchen assistant.

The weave was really, really hot. It wasn't the bacon that burnt flesh but the thick layer of bubbling hot grease that coated it on all ends. We still needed to cheese it up and roll it up before it got cold but there was no way in hell Preston or I could pull that task off without being wounded. We had a quick ethical conversation, wondering if wounds were worth the meal. We were about to martyrize our fingers when Preston had a brilliant idea.

We put the cheese on and rolled it up. There was a subtle rumble in the earth below. I thought it was either the train going by or the gods awaking from their slumbers to witness two men attempt a task so notoriously dangerous, even amongst the creators themselves it was considered lunacy.

Cheesed it, rolled it up and BEHOLD!

The Bacon Weave. 

What's scary is that we each got a half and both ate in under five minutes. It wasn't even hard, in fact, it was delicious and felt like eating a few pieces of bacon. That's the dangerous thing about that stuff: if you can't see exactly how much you are eating your body assumes you are eating one small portion and leaves you wanting more. 

At the end of the five minute feast Preston and I realized we each ate half a pound of bacon. I can't remember exactly because I felt faint but I believe we high fived and screamed "BACON WEAVE!"

BOOYAH!

Soon, Chicago Will Be Uninhabitable

This lovely Saturday morning I woke up and did the whole morning routine. Part of my shtick is checking the weather reports on Dashboard so I know that I won't freeze my private parts off when I go to the loop for class. 

This morning shocked me. I could tell it was colder than usual because my room was a little drafty. When I looked at my Dashboard I thought "Oh god, It's here"

One degree. Not "degrees" but "degree". It's so cold out that there is only one little unit of an untouchable concept keeping the entire city from zero. I remember those days from last year, the cold wind slapping you in the face every time you turned a corner. It was horrible. It was something I wasn't looking forward to. It was here. 

Dear, God, why do you do this to us Chicagoans? Dear Chicagoans, why do we put up with this?

I started to panic. I grabbed my long johns, blew the dust off and said "looks like I'll be using you earlier than I thought" while shivering in fear of what was to come. It was already so cold. 

That's when I looked at the Dashboard again. Whoops. My friend Monty, who is from Mexico, can only read temperatures in Celsius (like the rest of the world, those suckers). Immediately next to my Dashboard widget was another, reading a much more palatable temperature. 

Whoops. It's still mad cold but I didn't need the long johns. The train platform was slicked with ice and I could feel myself slowly sliding towards the tracks but I lived to tell the story. 

Moral of the story? Long live the United States Customary Units! 

I'll Take You To Burn

Play this song as you read this post. That's an order. 

Preston and I finally have the fireplace working and holy cow, does it change things. Last night we had a little get together with a small cluster of friendly people, tossed in a log and listened to tunes, told stories and drank some booze.

On this rainy Friday, we decided to do it all over again. Feels good to put yer' feet up, listen to the crackling flames, sip some tea and watch Star Trek. 

Who says college living is supposed to be humble?

Sleep

A while ago a post on Ludwig's blog got me thinking about sleep. In recent weeks I have been incredibly tired from the moment I wake up until about 6 at night. It blows and it only happens on weekdays when I have to get up early. Clearly, I don't get enough sleep.

Today was the final straw. I woke up with a shitty headache and I still have it. The only time it's not bothering me is when I'm asleep. That sucks. 

I usually get five to six hours a night. That is what I got last year and could totally function on it. I guess I'm getting old, though, because now it just ain't enough these days. 

I have been doing some research and it turns out that six hours of sleep is, frankly, not enough. I can't really do anything about it because I have such a hard time falling asleep. I get my work done earlier and earlier these days so I have the potential to get a good nights rest but never seem to. 

Tonight will be different. It's 10:30. I'm going to crawl into my bed. Read a bit, breath a bit, hit the lights and hopefully snooze off at midnight. That will give me seven and a half hours of sleep under my belt. If it feels that good in the morning, I'll do it every night. 

I feel sort of like a herb going to sleep at 11. Oh well. I guess that's how big boys do it.

More importantly, I'm curious, how much sleep do you guys get? I know Carlos gets a lot more than I do because he's more responsible. I talked to him and said it then and I'll say it again: you are doing it right. 

What about everyone else? You get more than 6 hours of sleep a night?

On an unrelated note, if I knew how to drive this is exactly how it would go down these days:

"What in the hell was that?"

Pain In The Ass P.O.V

A little context here. My laundry room is in the next building so I have to put my shoes (and pants) on, walk outside, enter another building and crawl down into the basement. I'd complain about it but I got it better than a lot of other kids I know who have to drag their shit to a Laundromat. Still, things find ways of going wrong and it's only so long until I can't hold my tongue anymore...

"Don't be scared, Kevin. Don't be scared, Kevin..."

"Booyah! Clean laundry. Now I won't 

smell like ass tomorrow!"

"Hey, what the fuck? This shit's still wet! It was

in here for an hour!"

"I'll do it again. Looks like I'm getting 60 minutes less

sleep tonight..."

"Good thing I'm prepared. Wait...who put a dime

 and a nickel in my quarter jar?! ASS!"

"Fuck it. I'm going to sleep."

Holy cow, Truthers at my door

A few weeks ago I posted a video about 9/11 not being a conspiracy. I was fully aware of the comments I would get from "Truthers" who disagree with me. In fact, that was one of the reasons I did it. I'll be honest, I thought it would be fun to get people's goats. Problem is, once I had a few hundred goats tied up in my backyard I realized how loud and annoying goats are.

Over the weeks the comments have grown more and more aggressive. Whatever, yo, water off my back. I'm a big boy. 

What is frustrating, however, is that the comments are beginning to show that people are completely incapable of peacefully disagreeing with each other. Still, a much more disturbing fact was that people generally think "Acknowledge" is spelt "Agnologe"

Today I got one that I thought was so interesting I should post it here. It comes from some guy named "Michellenite" who has no videos uploaded so I can't really get a feel for what he's into.

He said:

"Listen BrokeHoeProductions You know nothing.. you are a chump ass child..9/11 was created by our own government.... I live in Chicago as well... and i am ACTIVE... if you step to me when I am demonstrating.. I Will HURT you"

Holy shit. This guy is pissed. I thought I would emphasize his anger by putting his quotes in a soft salmon color. I am very grateful for Michellenite's comment because it helped prove a point. Taking any idea so extremely that you become fanatical is a big fucking problem this country has. 

I have one thing to say to this individual and truly mean it. I responded on Youtube so he will end up reading it (as I'm comfortable to assume he is not a reader of this blog). Frankly, I hope I do cross paths with this man. Why? Because he will feel like a completle and utter douche bag for hurting someone simply because they diasgreed with him. 

It's funny how people like this consider themselves protectors American freedoms.

Sillies. 

I'm a Rock it, Man.

Preston and  I have been obsessed with the acting abilities of William Shatner. Because of this, I was surfing the Tube and came across what might be the most wonderful, bizarre and stimulating videos of all time.

I present to you, William Shatner doing Rocketman.

Meet my new roommate

No, Preston hasn't bailed on me. I now have a second roommate. He doesn't have a name yet but I think he'd love to meet you.

Today I went to Petco with Preston. It was a long and beautiful walk through a part of Chicago I have never ventured through. I was going to buy a hamster but things didn't quite work out that way once I got there.

I found myself staring at the Guinea Pigs. They were super cool but a bit out of my budget. I was just about to give up and settle with a lame hamster. That is when fate stepped in.  

Preston and I were approached by a very nice young lady named Rachel. She worked at the joint and told us about a Guinea pig that was up for adoption. We went over and met him. We fell in love. 

He is a year old and was given up by his previous family because the daughter couldn't handle it's awesomeness. It is friendly, loves people and huge. When you put your hand in the cage he doesn't run away like most small rodents. Instead, he walks right up to you and smells/licks your fingers. He loves to sit on laps and watch Star Trek. He's perfect. 

By the time we decided to adopt him it was raining and we had our hands full. We were a far walk away from home and things were looking bleak. 

That's when Rachel offered us a ride. It was very gracious of her and she didn't seem to mind at all. She's one of those people that give me hope for humanity. 

After settling in we tossed our new friend a few chew sticks. He loves em'. We are getting a leash for him soon and I'm excited to have a little buddy to keep my lap warm when I'm watching TV. I just hope he doesn't shit and piss all over me (which I'm pretty sure these things are known to do). I will let you know when that happens. 

Right now we are just trying to name him. I voted for Spock, Papa New Guinea Pig or Moe Green. Any suggestions?

Captain's Log: No fridge

I love mildly rainy afternoons. The air is crisp, the light is easy on the eyes and there isn't much foot traffic outside (which means I can keep the curtains open without feeling like a Zoo attraction). Preston had the right idea and fell asleep on the futon. I have dibs on it when he wakes up.

I have been watching the first season of Star Trek remasters in glorious HD (with a few added CGI effects that really ruin it, but hey, it's better than nothing), drinking tea and taking in this perfect day. 

In other news, our fridge broke (again) and Preston and I lost a lot of food. We have been living off of frozen goods since the freezer works fine. It's been a bit of a bummer but today we got a call from the Landlord who said tomorrow we are getting a brand spanking new, beautiful fridge. I can't wait. The only problem is that we didn't notice the thing had turned off for what seems to be at least a day or two. That means all of our food has been sitting in there slowly rotting away. It smells like pure, undiluted shit that was wrapped in an onion, fermented in urine and then buried deep below the earth for hundreds of years. We have to clean it out before the new fridge comes (we don't want to be assholes and send this one off filled with rotting corpses for some poor schmuck to put in the back of his truck) so I'm building up the courage to take care of business later tonight.

Not something I'm looking forward to.