Prudence...

...trying to drag me across the room by my ear. I love this dog more than anyone in my whole entire family tree. She has catchers mitts for paws.

Bulldog puppy

Turns out we bought a baby gorilla, whose jaws are locked onto my ankle as I type this. How can a ten pound 9 week old puppy be pulling me off the couch? This may have been a mistake.

My Pie

my pie my pie
my fuckin pie
i inhaled a pecan and started to choke
i cook like a broad
it was delishious
Ill mash my face in it and start to cry
my pie my pie
my fuckin pie

My Famous Pecan Pie

I made my famous pecan pie this morning. It's made from a secret old family recipe, just like Nana's secret fudge recipe. Im sure it's of Micmac origin, and it's pronounced pee can, not pee caahhn. Unless you're Thurston Howell the third.

Pecan Pie

AN EGG!

My last, lonely, chicken finally laid an egg. It's been months. Every day I've been asking her "where are my eggs". Tonight when I went out to bring her dinner I found a lone egg in the corner. It totally made my day. I could see that my happiness was making her happy. We both basked in this glory for a moment, then I closed her up for the night. Walking back to the house with the tiny egg in my hand I shed a tear.

whatever

Way to much pressure. Every direction the walls are closing in on The D.O.M. Time is running out fast. No sunlight. No place to hide. Gatling Gun plans are flying off the shelf. Nobody gives me any feedback on them. Who could blame them? Complete gibberish really. Who am I kidding anyway? They're calling for my head in Kuala Lumpor.

Vodka Martini
Trying to learn dueling banjos
kids keep coming down here trying to communicate with The D.O.M.

The boredom has overtaken me.

Willy Wonka Drawing

Been working on this off and on since June

Christmas Tree Time

I broke down and put up the Christmas tree tonight. Whatever. It makes my stupid family happy. I got the lights going outside as well. I never took the lights off the spruce tree from last year. I just plugged it back in. Looks like someone decorated it from the back of a bucking bronco. Half the lights don't work and some are on the ground twisted in knots and chewed up from when I ran them over with the lawn mower this summer.

Sunday

Taking a break from drawing Heir Burgermeister. Just threw the kids outside to play. The egg that is me has multiple hairline cracks all over. The entire planet is laughing at me(or with me?).............I just added some more value to Heir Burgermeister's cheek bone. Not sure if that's how you spell his name. He won't mind. He must be dead by now. All of them. Dead. Oh. Where was I? How can someone's nose be perfectly round?

Cinnamon and The D.O.M.

Me and my last remaining bantam hen

Saturday Night: Out Dancing with Friends

The first thing I do is scan the crowd and pick out the most dangerous looking people. Then I visualize myself attacking them. For some reason this relaxes me. Then some freak will come into view and will become my study. I watch it's every move trying to get into it's mind. All this goes on while seated at a table full of my friends, laughing and having a grand old time. Of course my back is to my table of friends and my laughing worries them. If I lose sight of my freak I get hit with what feels like a taser full of rage. Like a gorilla that just broke off the head of the doll(or human baby)that he's been playing with. I turn and snap at Mrs D.O.M. "lets get the hell out of here". "No, I'm having fun" is her reply. I pick up a table and smash her to bits with it(in my mind),then run off to find my broken dolly.

Friday Night

Friday night and Im sitting on the couch enraged. Tremendous urge to shoot my television(even though its not on). Bored. Sherlock Holmes had heroin for his boredom. What do I have. Fucking ice cream. Now Mrs D.O.M. wants her spot on the couch. Fine! I'll go sit out in the woods.

Cheesecake Run

I'm walking into the local supermarket. Thoughts of what's the greatest song to kick some one's ass to are going thru my mind. My mission is cheesecake. I grab a basket even though I'm only getting one item,this embarrasses me and throws me off balance mentally. At the cheesecake section there are a bunch of different ones. I know for a fact that whichever I choose will be wrong and most likely result in it being mashed in my face for not knowing what she likes. Anyway, I find a sampler cheesecake. No way to go wrong with this choice(in your face!). I couldn't find the price so for some reason instead of raising the cake up to see the bottom(still holding the empty red basket in the other hand) I held the cake at waist level and just crouched below it and looked up to see the price. I didn't realize I did this until I was driving home. I absolutely thought that the only way to see the price was to get under the cake. Not raise it or tilt it. Weird. I was also wearing slippers that I hadn't noticed I'd been wearing all day. But you know what? I got the friggin cheesecake.

Trapped

No way possible to make it though today. I'm stuck in this wretched house. The girl flipped my truck on its side. She pulled away from a stop sign and it just rolled on its side, all by itself. Weird? Not weird at all you loser, happens everyday. Bottom line is Im stuck here. "Danny's not here right now Mrs Torrence" It's almost time for my afternoon coffee. That'll help temporarilly, then it will kick in more nervousness. Urge to punch cement coming back. OK, Im going to get some coffee and head out into my workshop and turn up some Johnny Cash.

Just Thinking....

Why is it that whenever I'm behind someone in line I want to slap them out of my way. The backs of people's heads enrage me for some reason. Maybe because they are so innocent and defenseless. If I could have any superpower I wanted, just one wish to be granted, it would be to have the ability to morph my right hand into Andre The Giant's hand. Whenever I get the urge my hand just turns into the big freaks hand and I wallop the person in front of me upside the head. No harm intended. I don't dislike you per se, it's just that your head annoys me.

Darkness

Sitting in the darkness listening to old school country music wondering if there is a point to any of "this". We're all on borrowed time. Cinnamon(my last surviving bantam hen) is out there all alone waiting for the fox to come and get her. All of us have a "fox" out there that's making its way toward us. I guess the best attitude to have is the "duct tape a meat cleaver to each hand and sprint in the direction of the "fox" laughing all the way" attitude.

My Grandfather's Bar

Mrs D.O.M.s latest assignment for me is to paint all the furniture in the dining room white. I hate painting and I hate when it's given to me as a chore. Anyway, one of the pieces in the dining room is a bar that my grandfather made about 50 years ago. I've been putting off "re-doing" this for years. To me it's a holy item. My grandfather was a carpenter/casket maker and the bar was made from mahogany that was used to make caskets. I'm sure, the project of making the bar, was and excuse of his to escape from his family. Something ALL real men do. "What honey? You want me to make a bar? Sure thing, I'll be out in my workshop every night for a week. I'll need to get some supplies(Vodka and cigarettes) first". What's really cool about this piece is some of his writing on the underside of the shelves in the back. There are a couple of scribbled notes and some measurements written down(that I never knew were there until today)and to me it makes the bar even more special. It's like part of his spirit resides there. And don't think that I don't know how wrong it is to paint over beautiful wood like mahaogany. Norm Abram would have my head, but I see it as a way to keep it part of the family. Adapt and you survive. To honor my Dad and his Dad I really should be drinking Vodka while I do this. It is a bar after all. I'll do the final coat of paint while drinking a shooter and smoking a camel non filter.

Saturday Morning

I'm setting up Mrs D.O.M.'s tent at the Concord Art Market in the freezing cold frigid October morning(it snowed yesterday morning Mr Gore) I'm not cold everybody but else is. They're babies and they're not built for extremeness like me. Anyway I'm walking by a woman who was setting up her tent

Missy is Gone

I went to let my hens out this morning and instead of seeing two of my little sweethearts, only one greeted me. The late Ruben's old lady Missy didn't make it back into the coop last night. It means only one thing. She's in the belly of some animal. How the hell can anyone eat a chicken? She was a wonderful friend. The last remaining chicken, Cinnamon, has always gone into a state of hysteria whenever she lost sight of Missy. This is going to be hard on her. Tenderhearted Mrs D.O.M. said I should just snap Cinnamon's neck to put her out of her misery.

Saturday NIght

So I'm in the "Dress Barn" with Mrs D.O.M. We're loaded. Dresses? What's not to like. But when your Doc "Friggin" Manly you got no business being in a dress store with a bunch of dames. They don't even have a bloomer section. I'm trying to get Vicki to steal a dress but she's having none of it. What the hell are we doin in Kittery anyway? I wonder if any one of these broads wants me to take my shirt off and show them my new tattoo. Vicki stops me. I giggle like a school girl and do my "Duke Wayne" saunter to a rack of skirts over by the dressing room. After about five minutes of pretending to thumb through the rack I notice Mrs D.O.M. has left the store. That bitch!

Friday Night

Coffee. Tom Jones cranking. Working on Don Knotts drawing. Taylor on an ice cream run. Verde on loon patrol down in Lowell. Feel like I've got a grip. Recent local heinous crime got me thinking about more firepower. Booby traps? Clown suit? How cool would this be. Someone breaking into my house and I come running out of the woods in a Spongebob costume with a .45 in each hand. Just riddling my house with bullets. I smash the would be home invaders out of my way and break my own door down... Anyway... I can't wait for Taylor to get back, she's supposed to surprise me with a new ice cream flavor.

A Day at Jim's Tattoo

Lots of stress lately, raging arguments in my head with no end in sight and no foreseeable solution. No solution until The Smoke Eater(famous Boston Firefighter) calls me and says "When we gettin some more ink". That's it! An afternoon among the manly is what's needed. Nothing better for the soul than to spend the day at Jim's Tattoo shop and having a tattoo legend dig a hole in your arm with a needle attached to an old dentist drill for two hours. This to me is the equivalent of when "normal people" go get a massage or spend the day at the spa having a relaxing mud bath. Getting a tattoo is an almost zen-like meditative experience(which may be addictive). Sitting in a chair for hours, focused on breathing, trash talking our "old ladies", the game on, pain blood and ink in abundant supply. Like modern day vikings. I mean, have you ever had a stressful day at work or stuck home with the family and wanted to empty a revolver in your head or taser yourself? A tattoo scratches that itch.

Pantalones and The Rooster

Pantalones and The Stranger

I found myself trying to befriend this cat, not in a normal way(whatever that means)cats don't like the normal. I'm in a house packed with people. All loons in their own right. Daren our host, just like Yul Brynner in the "Magnificent Seven", has spent a lifetime gathering only the craziest of crazies for who knows what reason. He gets us together for these parties to get us "used" to each other. I haven't figured out why just yet. Anyway, so I'm standing there in the middle of a fascinating conversation with Steven Hawking and George "The Animal" Steele. A flamenco guitarist is playing Malaguena. A three year old girl is tap dancing to the music and.... I think I'm getting side tracked again. Where was I? So I'm trying to befriend this cat who is curled up in this chair but I'm trying to do it in my mind. The cat's looking up at me and I'm just staring at it and saying to it "I love you. I would never hurt you,I'm not like these other people". This is all in my head, and it worked. Slowly I made my move and sat on the chair, inch by inch, until we were snuggling together. Hello! I'm a cat whisperer. The next thing you know I have the cat in a baby carriage(in my mind) and we are strolling down the street. All the other fathers have their cats in similar strollers. Smiling nods as we pass each other. Pantalones,the cats name, looks up at me and says that she's in the mood for a lollipop. She giggles a little and tells me she's joking. I think to myself today is the most wonderful day of my life. Filled with joy, I scoop up Pantalones and start running down the street. She looks up at me and starts shouting "Faster Daddy, Faster".....

More Hiking

More hiking this weekend. I dragged my Mom,nephew and children up yet another mountain this weekend. I haven't been on this one in like 10 years so I forgot how steep parts of it were. The trail was very wet and slippery and in some spots nearly vertical, not really but to a seven year old girl(and their Grandmother) it must have been pretty scary. We turned back about a half a mile from the summit, at the bottom of a particularly steep section with water running down it. To me it was a total success because the girls pushed themselves out of their comfort zone and had a good time doing it. Mostly because they were following the lead of their ten year old cousin, D.O.M. junior, who sprinted up the steep sections laughing all the way.

The African Sulcata as a Pet

I found Leonardo while driving in my work van about four years ago. I was stuck in a traffic jam and I got out of the van to see what was going on and noticed everyone was stopped because a large tortoise was walking down the middle of the street. At first I thought it was a snapping turtle because thats the only thing around here that could be that big. I got a better look at it and I knew it wasn't from these parts so I made my way through the crowd and picked up the beast and put him in the back of my van. I didn't know at the time that it was the third largest tortoise species on the planet. I called my wife and,excitedly, told her that I found a tortoise in the road and was bringing it home. She was picturing a box turtle when I told her, boy was she surprised. Anyway that was the beginning of our life with Leo the African Sulcata.

Mount Monadnock

Two seconds after I realized that I've gone as far as I could go installing the carpet in the new classroom downstairs, the argument that's been going on in my head for months picked up right where it left off. The inside off my skull is like a drunken Parliament meeting where someone exploded a gigantic killer bee bomb. Everyone running around screaming. Hookers, politicians, crazy relatives, serial killers, clowns, chickens, Howdy Doody, Jethro Bodine, all of "Them". And I'm screaming back at them, because they're all nuts. So ,thinking that I was going to be alone the rest of the day, I knew I wasn't going to "last" very long. So I came up with the idea of hiking up Mount Monadnock. A four mile fairly strenuous hike on an 80 degree day. Perfect for chasing the demons away. After eating a huge bowl of macaroni and cheese I got myself an iced coffee from Dunkins and drove the hour and a half to the 3000ft mountain. I pull up to the gate and the ranger gives me the whole "Hi, how are you, nice day isn't it" crap. He asks me if I've ever been here before and if I needed a map. I was like, "you too? I'm The F-ing D.O.M.!, just give me my ticket before I stab you." If I get lost, just look to the sky to see all the bodies I will be hurling off the mountain. Anyway, I put on my late Uncle George's hiking boots, slung my rucksack over me back and headed up the trail.

So things were going pretty good. I had to stop to take some aspirin to try and stop the baby headache that was forming and I had to go to the bathroom but the place was surrounded by a group of young "feel gooders" sitting at the picnic tables all "happy". No thanks. Probably pee my pants later anyway. OK. So my hiking strategy was to plod along when nobody was around and when I encountered anyone I would triple my speed past them, while holding my breathe so they wouldn't hear how heavy I was panting. What's weird is I didn't feel the effect of my hiking style until I stopped to catch my breathe after a particularly steep section(where a lot of people were resting, so I wasn't breathing out, only slowly in as I passed them, just so they would feel bad at how amazing I was). Anyway, at the top of this section, I stopped to take my first break and it felt like someone had shrink wrapped my face. Not only could I not breathe but my heart was beating so fast I couldn't recognize any individual beats. It was like a hummingbirds heart. A hummingbird that ate cheese at every meal,every day of its life. After letting my body calm down for about five minutes I set off again, repeating this process often. About two thirds of the way up my legs started to shake uncontrollably and I seriously thought that they would just buckle under me and stop working but they didn't and I got into a really good rhythm and made the summit in about and hour(I've done it in less than half that time in the distant past). Above treeline on Monadnock was absolutely beautiful. Very inspiring. Idiots lazing around being stupid on the summit kept me from spending any time up there. I did stop often on the way down to enjoy the fine view and have some snacks. At some point while making my way down the mountain I realized that there hadn't been any arguments in my head since I started the hike. I had found some peace. I even started talking and even encouraging the fellow hikers that I came across. I didn't hate them anymore. Not up there on the mountain anyway. I even waved (one finger) at the ranger on the way out. Then one more iced coffee for the road and back to stupid reality.

Vacation Day

Beautiful day hiking with the girls

The Wood Frog and Mother Nature's Son

The cold little guy sits in the road
Terrified!
Love is near
A warm glow overwhelms him
He bends down
Raining tears of goodness on his new friend
Picking up this little tan guy
An eternal bond is made
Placed in the tall grass
Words unspoken
They part ways
Sadness and Joy

Day One of Trying to be Normal

The pounding rain is relaxing. Today we need to go pick out a carpet at Lowes for the kids classroom downstairs. I'll pick it up tomorrow with "The Smoke Eater". My Uncle Tim is installing it because if me and Tom put it in it would look like Spongebob and Patrick did it.

Family Vacation

So I made it back from our family vacation last week. 95 degrees in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Thousands of kids and their stupid parents. Me trapped waiting in the sweltering lines with my family. I cant tell you how many times I pointed at other peoples children and tried to "will" fire out of my finger tips and ignite the little bastards. I did "accidentally" "stand" on an annoying little girls foot while waiting in line to get a Storyland sticker from Mother Goose. Then there was the riding around from one tourist trap to another with my "family". Every last ounce of my mental discipline, I mean every little morsel every last crumb of strength was needed to keep me from unbuckling my seat belt opening the passenger door and doing a Jacques Cousteau type backward roll out the passenger door(giving my peeps the finger on the way out) of our speeding car and happily tumbling down the highway only to be ground up under the merciful wheels of an eighteen wheeler. It's like tonight at bath time. Try being as nerved up as me and give two seven year old girls a bath, they either sit there laughing or crying at me, mocking me. I'd rather wash a pair of filthy hogs. At least I can punch and kick them into behaving. Sometimes I wish I had a pull chain hanging from the ceiling and when it just got too much for me too handle I just pull the chain and one of those ten ton weights from Monty Python comes crashing down on my head. "Wash your bums!" Why? ha, ha, ha, fuck you Dad" BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE THE SHIT COMES OUT!" So yes, I'm totally rejuvenated from my vacation,

Random Kindness

Denali National Park 1993. This lovely volunteer park ranger met us after we came down from the mountain. She had a tray of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies (just thinking about this again is bringing tears to my eyes). I have my arm around her and I haven't showered in 5 weeks(or used toilet paper) and my face is peeling off. I tried to stuff her in my backpack and take her home.

Last Of The V8 Interceptors

Exit Kia Sportage enter the new Official Car of World Manliness Headquarters. Suck it Al Gore!

Family Vacation

This afternoon "The Vacation" starts. I get to be trapped in a tiny "Korean" suv for four days with my family. Four days of clenching my fists tighter and tighter and tighter. The inside of my head filled with screams. I need a vacation from the planet. My idea of a perfect vacation would be to be encapsulated in one of those bombs that burrow into the earth before they explode, then just fire me into the side of a mountain. Anyway, I'm sure we'll have loads of fun.

African Tortoise on the loose

My pal Leo

Ted Nugent VS James Carville

Right now I'm reading "Ted, White and Blue" by Ted Nugent and I've told Mrs D.O.M. to find me a book from the "other" side and I would read it. So after Sir Ted's book I'll be reading James Carville's new book. I'll post my take on both books when I'm finished. I've never read any of Mr Carville's stuff but I like that fact that he killed people for the Clinton's and he's a regular guest on Imus.

Saturday continued

Lately I've be as close to a nervous breakdown as a person can get without actually crossing over. It's like I'm standing on the very end of a diving board outside of the International Space Station and I have a rope around my neck. A rhinocerous that's been floating around in space has just found the other end of the rope and has wet itself with giddiness. The rhino, lets call her "Madness", puts the rope around her neck and all of a sudden starts doing the Macarena. Then I snap out of it and I realize I'm still on this side of the "Normal". I'm at the artist's building and I'm working on the storage units that they're paying me to build. I get back to work and all of a sudden I hear "This looks like fun". I turn to see who it is and it's a clown. No lie. Also keep in mind that I haven't seen another person all day. Acting as if this is the most normal thing that's ever happened to me, we strike up a conversation. I don't even acknowledge that he's a clown. After he left I thought to myself "that was probably the most normal person I have ever met". I felt so at ease, the clown somehow took all of my stress away.

Saturday In The Land of OZ

Today I'll be building storage units for some artists. I'm making 15 cages for them to store their stuff. Working there late last night and pounding down white wine spritzers like a mad viking has put a damper on my mood and energy. I need coffee.

Tuesday

Not unlike Ted Bundy, I sit rocking in my chair gazing out the window. I'm staring at my African tortoise and pickin the banjo. Why, exactly, am I on this planet? I have a plan I'm about to hatch to get in good with the woodchuck. It's quite foolproof. Nothing wrong with having a pet groundhog. They're expendable. I can have this one. The torstoise just walked outside of my field of vision. I've got to go get him and put him back in his pen for the night

Opie Taylor

This photo was taken on the set of The Andy Griffith Show in 1963. I was Ron Howard's stunt double for three years. Whenever you saw Opie getting socked in the eye by a bully or kissed by a girl or shooting a baby bird with a BB gun, that was me.

It's a Boy!!!!

Finally I have a son. This morning I was looking out my upstairs bathroom window(spying on my tortoise)when I noticed a big ball of fur looking inside Leo's "house". It was the woodchuck that my family has been seeing these last few days. My lifelong dream of owning a woodchuck has come true. Oh, and I DO own him. I will call him "The Maestro". After taking a bunch of pictures of him and watching him for what seemed like forever, the boredom took over and I chased him under the "chicken shed". He must be living under there.

Blogging from the festival

I'm sitting here at the Lowell Folk Festival drinking yet another coffee. I didn't need the last one. I'm staring at a freak as I sit here writing this. This jerk has no interest in art, he probably wants to eat us. Ya, have a nice day pal.

Concord Market Days

Concord Market Days was a blast. Especially the Art Market section down in the brick courtyard. Mrs D.O.M. had a great weekend sales wise despite all of my fried dough and ice cream money I kept taking from her. I enjoyed listening to the great music and watching this very diverse group of lunatics pedal their craft.

Saturday?

What the hell do I do with the twins today. This is day three. Yesterday we saw the movie "Up" which was fabulous. We eat our weight in chocolate and ice cream every day. I'm sure my nervous breakdown will be here any minute. Very stressed. I think we'll go to the Art Museum today. Then I'll put them in the lobby of my Mother's place and ring the bell and run(like those sissies on the beach in the movie Chariots of Fire, soundtrack playing in my head).Running away at top speed, in my boots, jeans and my "Guns Don't Kill People I Do" tee shirt. I'll run until my bacon filled heart explodes. OK. Anyway, I've got to go. Off to the Museum. I need coffee.

Metal Samurai

It took me two years but I'm finally finished with my samurai

I Almost Forgot

While driving around looking for antique shops with my wife we spotted two baby woodchucks by the side of the road and I had a major meltdown. She refused to stop the car so I could get out and "Get" one. She thought I was joking when I screamed "PULL THE FUCK OVER". She just laughed, going along with what she thought was a joke. I was dead serious. It's been a lifelong dream of mine to find an abandoned baby woodchuck and raise it as my own. The farther we got from my dream the more frantic I became. I started to thrash around in my seat like I was being electrocuted, violently tearing at the seat belt and pulling at the door handle which she kept locking. I punched her in the side of her neck(in my mind)then slammed myself back into my seat and began to pout. That lasted about ten seconds until I remembered the old pipe I bought at the flea market. I pulled it out of my bag, looked out the window and took a long draw from the unlit pipe then(with filthy pipe in hand) I started talking like Thurston Howell for the next two hours

Bad Ass Vacation. Not for Everyone

Zoos, antique shopping, plain hamburgers, claw machines, me throwing a tantrum for not being allowed to buy a puppet, making fun of people, watching Mrs D.O.M. yell at Sarah Palin on her laptop, borrowing a pencil so I could draw Willy Wonka, stealing beach toys, buying a Ballad of The Green Berets album, buying an old pipe that smells like it was stored in a World War II veteran's ass. Drinking Guiness, listening to Mrs D.O.M. scream in traffic at Marine twice my size, watching Mrs D.O.M. flip old lady driver the bird, stand on corner in Ogunquit while Mrs D.O.M. shops for dresses, contemplating why I am even on this planet

Godspeed Little M.C.

I let M.C. Cain go today. The baby snapping turtle we found in the driveway last fall is finally home where he belongs, in the river across the street from my house. As I was driving to work this morning I tossed him out the window of my van and into the river below. I will miss him. He was like a son to me.

Sunday Eve

Home all day playing with my two little girls. They love Frankenstein, so we played that for a while. That ended when I, as Frankenstein, threw one of the girls into a pond when I spilled my tiny cup of imaginary tea all over my lap. Then I took a two hour nap. Mrs. D.O.M. finally came home and fed us and brought me a quart of Maple Walnut iced cream(which is like steroids to The D.O.M.). I'm eating it right now, out of a Pinocchio bowl. My stupid kids wont stop giggling. What kind of damage is that doing to my brain?

Tinman Marionette Finished

Sunday Morning

Working on the Tin Man Marionette.
Hangin out with the kids.
Drinking coffee.
Wasting more time on the computer.
Homeschool math today.
Cleaned Sulcata Tortoise pen with shovel.
Herman, the smaller tortoise has been left outside in the garden for a week now. Don't know if he's still there.
The Chickens suck.
Mrs D.O.M. escaping to studio.
She is nagging me to get them dressed.

I ate a Kangaroo last night

...and it was DELISH!!!!!!

Bathed in The Light of Shining Goodness: Hell's Canyon Idaho

Fathers Day Project: Making a Real Tin Man

I've been working on this, off and on, for the past two days. A steel "Tinman" marionette. Very heavy and sharp. Just what the Doctor ordered. He's not quite finished though. You can double click on the image to get a better look.

Last Night

So I'm at the local Barnes and Noble bookstore in Manchester New Hampshire. Wait a minute, Vicki is making me enraged with her complaints about the Willie Nelson song that's playing. A song about a red headed stranger shooting a woman for touching his horse. She should take heed. Fine! OK no more Willie. Where was I? Anyway I head over to the section that has all the Monster Garage man among men stuff. The whole section is gone. Hold on, now my kids are asking me to go down the basement and find my old Frankenstein model for them. W.T.F. All right, so the whole "how to build a Sherman Tank" section is gone and it's replace by the newly expanded nature section. Now I know I'm the only one who knows this was done deliberately. Visibly enraged I frantically storm around the bookstore looking for the Man section. If you could view the bookstore from above it would have looked like everyone else in the store had been put in slow motion and I was speeding around,like Benny Hill, from section to section looking for some Jesse James books and occasionally ripping someones dress off or slapping some old guys bald head. After like five trips around the store I found myself at the help desk trying to calm myself down before I approached the communist behind the desk. I asked the hemp wearing freak where the welding and motorcycle books went. She led me to a tiny shelf in between the magazines and the kids section. She just snickered and said "we've downsized this section a bit". After smacking(in my head) her across her jib with Dennis Leary's "Why We Suck" book I stormed out of the store( after brousing around for a while in the nature section and then spending another half an hour looking for my wife, who was my ride).

Leo the Sulcata. Kickin Back

Wedding Today

I've dusted off my Roman sandals. I've polished my beads.

Wednesday

Waylon Jennings is crankin
Its almost bath time
Its hard being The D.O.M.
When you're washing your kids hair
Are you Sure Hank one It This Way?
My Dad was in "The Can" when I was their age
Gonna buy a pack of Camels tomorrow
I mean, is this it?

Dress Shopping?

OK. So I'm in the dress department with my wife surrounded by all these other women and all this girly stuff, I'm finding it difficult to breathe. Naughty things all around me, I dare not take a peak though I desperately want to. "They" will catch me. Mrs D.O.M. is like "do you like this one?" over and over. Each time she asks is like the pull of the trigger. The live round getting closer and closer until BLAM! My head explodes. I'm not meant to be here. I should be out there, burning something or practicing my backhanded smack in the face or sitting atop a high building,crying, wearing my pterodactyl suit but no, this was my idea. While she is in the dressing room I'm just standing there, I feel like a rapist, everyone is staring at me. How do you act casual standing in one spot for what seemed like hours surrounded by bras and panties. Then we had to get stupid shoes . All of a sudden she has no shoes. Then purses. At least they're cool. I ended up getting a kick ass man purse.

The D.O.M. Collection

New Tortoise Corral

Lots of work this weekend. To make room for his new pen I had to finally(2 years) move the huge pile of wood that used to be the old pool deck. I flung it all behind the chicken barn. The pile back there is large enough to house a family of hobos, which is what I'm hoping for. Anyway I have Leonardo's corral framed in. I plan on digging a little pond for him to bathe in and also quench his thirst. I'm also hoping to stain the corral. Herman, the smaller tortoise will be moving into the garden now that it's ruined. Leo ate most of the visible plants and the chickens dug up the section where the squash was planted. For some reason they like to submerge themselves in the dirt. It's funny, they stand on the deck and beg for food they give me no eggs and they ruin my garden. Aren't they food?

A Poem

The sun is setting

Quiet

Your make up finished

The Psyche docs await their return

Street crazies stir

A menacing horse is mounted

Hopes of a warm bed

Loud speakers un noticed

Pan handling done

A hand held net cannon

Familiar trek back

Deafening horns terrify

Panic

You thunder into the frenzy

The Ape has a GUN!

Work in Progress

African Sulcata Escapes!

While we were at the Nature Festival our tortoise tore down one of the walls to his 16'x16' pen. After a brief panic we found him under a pine tree in our neighbor's yard. I guess its time for a new pen.

Sunday

More nonsense today. Can there be anything more stupid than the environment. Isn't there an Orange County Choppers marathon I should be watching.

Saturday

Concord Arts Market vs The D.O.M.

Big day tomorrow. Mrs D.O.M. will be selling her art at The Concord Arts Market in Concord New Hampshire. I'll be there doing what I do best,sitting quietly like a furious volcano wanting to smash to bits everything I see.

Today's Gonna be Awesome!

I get to go help Vicki move her studio for the fourth time in less than 2 years. First I have to go fix some idiots air conditioner right after I punch them in the face. Oh yeah, I'm in a fabulous mood.

South End Art Thing

Mrs D.O.M. will have a booth set up at The SouthEnd Art Market this weekend. Stop by and support some local artists (or maybe ask for a free fist sandwich).

I think I had a Stroke

I just got finished eating dinner( Sam Adams, fried green beans, fish and chips, a hot fudge sundae and a baby scoop of chocolate cake). As soon as I got out of the car I quickly grabbed the lawn mower because I wanted to get the front lawn mowed before it got dark. Somewhat frantically, I got it done in about a half an hour(it's about a half an acre). After I was finished is when I realized that I was having trouble breathing and I was dizzy and shaking. I knew something was wrong when the chickens strutted by and I didn't give chase. I just leaned against the shed and flipped them the bird. It took all I had just to put the mower back in the shed. How I put things away in my 12ft x 30 ft shed is I swing open the doors and just hurl(from the entrance) whatever I'm putting away as far back into the shed as possible. My method is quite maddening. To retrieve anything from the shed you have to climb thru this mountain of twisted wood, metal, kids toys, law mowers, various broken medieval weapons,piles of old chicken eggs and lots of angry hornets. Then you have to latch onto your prize and thrash yourself(way past the brink of madness) back to the front of the shed, and out into daylight again. Then you raise whatever item you have over your head and throw it at the chickens. Anyway. Oh, so I don't feel so good.

No Mas

Ya

I'm losing grip. I think I shall burn myself with an iron. It just sounds like what I need.

My "Dog"

Ok. I'm sitting in my yard and I notice a hawk circling overhead. Can I continue to call myself the D.O.M. if my first reaction is to run around looking for my dog and the shoo her back into the house so a bird wont scoop her up. What does it even mean that I allow my dog to continue to waste oxygen? What good are my aircraft carrier sized biceps? I think that doing yard work while Mr Bigglesworth frolics at my feet is turning me into a woman. This french vanilla coffee isn't helping any either.

Swine Flu

19 confirmed deaths in Mexico. 19! What a bunch of clowns. Anybody in the news media that even mentions Swine Flu should have their heads lobbed off. Give me a break. The world's reaction to this non-story is what's making me sick.

Saturday Eve

I'm sitting here listening to Okie From Muskogee, drinking ginger tea. Do I even belong on this planet? Who allowed me to be a Dad? Do I have to imagine myself clothes linning EVERYONE that I see when I'm in "Lowes"? I can't stop pretending to smoke, and pointing my fake cigarette at an imaginary foe, and yelling at him with Joe Pecci's voice. I broke my banjo strap today. My sister's dog Joshua is made out of concrete. Watched a bluejay enjoying the sunrise this morning while I enjoyed a cup of coffee on my front steps. Trying to find a foo dog image for my next tattoo. Was the death of Johnny Cash the final nail in the coffin for America?

So...

Leonardo's room smells like he butchered a family of mountain gorrillas in it.

favorite quote

"I'll smack you in the mouth! I'm Neil Diamond!"

The Garden

The girls and I planted our garden this morning. We planted carrots, green beans, lettuce and squash. Leonardo immediately came over to investigate. He thinks the garden is his.

Dead Samali's Camera Found!

This is the last photo taken by the Samali "Pirates"....then they were slaughtered by this mysterious man from the sea.

I'm All Alone

I have my speakers on warp drive. I'm playing "The Trashmens" Surfing Bird over and over and over. Greatest song of all time. I'm fucking crying. Mark "The Bird" Fidrych is dead. The red wine doesn't help. I WAS the "Bird" when I was a kid. I still am. When Larry Bird came to Boston, I asked my Father if he would kill him for me, for stealing "The Bird's" nickname. Larry Bird. His nickname should have been "The White Freak". The stupid Boston Marathon was today, I was supposed to run it this year. The only problem was I didn't start training until yesterday, when I went to a local track with my kids and "ran" about forty feet (in jeans and steel toe workboots), before I shat all over myself. Anyway, this isn't about me. I'm tired, I think. What? You people suck.

What a Treat!

Today my wife and I were lucky enough to witness a verbal ass whooping. We were at a red light and this old timer jumped out of his car and stormed up to the car behind him and started tearing the driver a new one. The old man was enraged for some reason, pointing his finger and really scolding this guy (who had an Obama sticker on his little tree huggin fairy mobile). After the old buck was through he turned back and got into his car, to a round of applause from the surrounding cars. Only after this hero got back into his vehicle did the young punk open his door and yell "f--- you", then immediately shut his door. What a little girl. Of course the old timer had a "Veteran" licence plate. Most likely a Veteran of The Big Picture. It's a shame we are losing these guys as time goes on. I'm so glad I got a chance to witness a National Treasure in action. I mean, this guy was lighting his cigarettes off of enemy machine gun fire before this little girl/man's Dad was even born.

Juggling

I juggle now.

Just Thinking

Have you ever found yourself in a fabulous mood, driving down the road and the greatest song of all time comes on the radio? Don't you just want to crank up the song, stop the car, get out and start kicking ass? That happened to me today. Tooling along, wonderful day, thankful to be alive and all of a sudden, "She's A Lady" by Tom Jones comes on. It's a weird feeling, overjoyed and filled with the need to destroy things at the same time. I wanted to stop the truck get out and pick up a mailbox and throw it through the flower shop window, then start randomly drop kicking people. "Help me build a mountain from a little blob of clay, hey hey hey" as I tear a fire hydrant out of the ground with my giant arms. Then sit on the gushing water spout, launching myself 100 feet in the air. But of course the song ends and it's back to stupid reality.

Manly

We saw this guy flying up the highway. Freezing cold, pouring rain, soaking wet and wearing a tire?

Friday Night

So, after sitting in traffic in Manchester for an hour, the road finally opens up. As the rain begins I put the pedal to the metal(in our Kia Sportage). I have too pee really badly, but we're also running late. I hadn't realized that the more I had to go, not only the more reckless my driving became, but also the closer I hunched over the steering wheel. I was careening in and out of cars and I was so hunched over that my chin was almost resting on the steering wheel. It was pouring rain and I was squinting because I didn't have my bifocals on. In my mind, its all, "I have to pee,I have to pee, I have to pee". Also I'm thinking that I'm doing nothing unusual until I glance over at Vicki, whose silently crying into her hands. She looks up to me and says, "please pull over and find a bathroom, YOU'RE FREAKING ME OUT". Freaking her out? WTF. Anyway, I pull off the exit and find a McDonald's. I open the door to the men's room and, of course, the is an older Chinese gentleman with his head pressed under the faucet waving his hand so as to activate the motion sensor to get the water to come out. Now it's my turn to be freaked out. This was the last thing I needed. I tried to get a stall but there was already a guy in there, and he refused to let me in. There were only two urinals, the room was very small. So, nervously, I picked the one right next to the guy with his own head in the sink. As, I'm going I'm trying not to look at him. In my mind I'm thinking,"he's gonna jump on my back and bury his teeth in my neck and I'm gonna end up peeing all over the both of us(and the coward in the stall just for good measure)". I stood there pretending to pee(no longer at the stall) for quite a while, waiting for the lunatic to finish with the sink. As he was finishing up, he glanced over at me and I gave him a nervous smile, then he turned and ran out the door. I heard the door to the stall open behind me, I turned to look and he gave ME a nervous smile then he quickly shut the door and locked himself in the stall again. So this time I bolted. What a freak show.

Who Will Save Us From Al

It looks like Al Gore and Barack Obama are looking into shooting some substance into the atmosphere to cool the Earth. Once again real life mimics the great Underdog. Be afraid people, be very afraid.

THE END

Sad news today. The D.O.M.s plane was shot down over the sea of Japan, there were no survivors.

Today's Plan

Today we(me and "The Twins")are headed down to Western Avenue's "Open Studio's". All the artists, the first Saturday of every month, allow the general public a baby glimpse into their world. It's kind of like being given a tour of a late 1800's mental hospital where the doctors have left all the cages open. Extremely interesting but quite dangerous.

Saturday Morning

Is there anything more disgusting than "old school" oatmeal? Does it have to taste like human flesh?

The Doc's Cerebral Side

Andre was magnificent!

New Years Resolution: Number 6

Learn how to juggle.

Turning Point

I've been thinking lately about the direction that The D.O.M. has been headed down. Once I was on the path of holy goodness and light, with a litle bit of rage thrown in once and a while for balance. But I've strayed from this path. I need to, once again, use my fists of purity to bring much need love and justice to this wonderful planet. I need to spend some time in the forest.

Sunday Morning

This morning I've been working(hiding from my family) on cutting some more pieces for the ballista I'm building. I downloaded the plans from "Ernest Borgnines Viking Toys for Men". An online site geared toward manliness. I'm making it out of mostly recycled oak that I pulled out of a dumpster. The lunatic ward at a drug rehab center was throwing away their oak beds, so I scored two of them. One went to my stepdaughter Taylor and I cut up the other one. I made the trebuchet out of some of the wood and the rest is going toward the ballista. I think it's quite fitting to use wood from a bed that mental people screamed themselves to sleep in for building medieval weapons. Too bad Taylor has to sleep in the other bed. She swears it's haunted.

They made me who I am, and Collectively They've Killed More Men Than Smallpox

Here is a photo taken at "The Rendezvous of Madmen", held every ten years on the Isle Of Malta. My Uncles Dick, George and John along with my late father Tony, were guest speakers. The finale was when my Dad beat to death a group of locals, with the arms he tore off their Chief.

Leo saw his shadow

You know it's spring when Leo, the turtle freak, gets to come out to graze.

The Warwolf

Today I dug out and dusted off the trebuchet I built a few years back. The old girl is in need of some repairs. Her counter weight broke last year so I made her a new one today. I'm going to clean her up and give her a fresh coat of poly. I'm also thinking about adding some wheels. I'll post some video when all the buffing up is done.

I Am One

Yesterday I was walking around Western Ave Studios, checking out all the artists, when I came to a peculiar looking studio. I happened to glance in at the artist, just as he was looking up from his holiest of holy torches, he fixed his gaze upon me and pulled me into his studio without saying a word. As I glided into his world, I had a feeling of being, not only light as a feather, but All Knowing as well. He got out of his chair and gestured for me to have a seat at the "Torch of Goodness". His movements were not unlike a zen tea master from a distant past. He handed me what I needed and in seconds I was staring into a glowing glob of molten glass. The more I looked into the glass the clearer my mind became. All the stress and turmoil, all my past sins, I could see clearly in the glass. They were melting away. When the last of my madness was gone, he spoke to me in a language I'd never heard before but somehow understood. I wept freely. I was overcome with this new sense of joy and wonder, like a newborn baby drawing his first breath. The next thing I knew, I was back in Vicki's studio, on the couch, waking from a nap. It was all a dream, or so I thought..... until I opened my hand!

Spring!

Its here. By the smell outside I know my skunk friend has risen from his wintey slumber. He's been living under the chicken shed for a couple of years now. I can see a set of tracks coming out from under there from my deck. I also think he has developed a fondness for chicken eggs. I don't think they'll eat a chicken though.

I'm The D.O.M. God Damn It!

Why am I playing a game of Kerplunk with two imaginary people, trying to entertain two surly 6 1/2 year old girls(who refuse to play with me). I should be out there, on the perimeter, stoned immaculate, trying to pull my fist out of somebodies chest. I'm stuck here in this useless existence, all my talents wasted. I use to belly flop off of tall buildings onto the homeless. Now look at me, a balding, bifocaled, scatterbrained freak. Maybe building this ballista is just what I need to get out of this rut. It has to be big enough to destroy my barn, or my workshop. Some senseless act of destrucive foolishness is what I need to get myself grounded back in the now. Its been a long winter, my stupid riding lawnmower has come into view, peaking its naughty little head out of the snowbank its been hibernating in. Maybe I can shoot some kind of explosive, excrement filled projectile at it when all the snow melts. As a kind of celebration of spring, and the arrival of all my bird friends.

The Museum

I am very angry right now, "She" drives me nuts. Anyway, yesterday I took the posse to the Art Museum . We took over the place, we drew, we strutted, a few times we were even frightened. An old guy yelled at us for sitting on the exhibits while we made our fantastic drawings, I gave him the, "HELLO!, I'm the D.O.M!" look, and he went and got us some benches. It took him a while because he was about a million years old. He came back with the benches and gave me the, "HELLO, I stormed the beaches of Normandy you sissy", look. Then he said to me (in his mind) "Now use the benches before I mop the floor with you". Then I snapped back (in my mind)"Lets go kids, Daddy hates the museum". But outwardly we just kept on drawing. As the old man was walking away, I said to him (in my mind) "I love you". He turned around and said to me (in his mind) "I know ya do kid, I know ya do". Then he was gone.

Old Time vs Old Timey Music

My Mom gave me a CD called Old Timey Bluegrass favorites, not "Old Time" but it actually has "Old Timey" in the title. This got me to thinking. What's the difference between "Old Time" and "Old Timey". I've been a big fan of Earl Scruggs since I was a kid and I like most of the "oldies". Maybe "Old Time" music is more like Patsy Kline and Doris Day. "Old Timey" sounds like it may have more of an up tempo to it, more toe tappin, good time drunkin knee slappin, ho-down, moonshine music. Of course knee slapping is when you're too drunk to get up to slap your wife, so you just slap your knee. I think the definition of "Old Time" means when the record is over, the bottle of sleeping pills hits the floor as your forehead hits the table. And when an "Old Timey" record is over someone gets hung.

Obsession

Building my Gatling Gun,I think of nothing else all day. I woke up at two in the morning with the idea of how to make a better firing mechanism. I feel like Richard Dreyfus in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, when he built that big mud mountain in his living room. I'm neglecting my wife and kids. I have no time for them. Whatever they want means nothing to me. I don't know why just yet, but God wants me to build this thing. And build it I will. I just got back in from the workshop with the new modifications done. I need to let the wood glue dry, so I can't test it until tomorrow, and the test will be directly into someones face (unless God tells me otherwise).

Sunday Night

I spent most of today working on my newest Gatling Gun. It's almost finished. I just need to hook up the firing mechanism. Tomorrow I'll stop at the hardware store and pick up some small pulleys to help reduce the friction, it should be a major improvement from the original model. I can't wait to test her out. Hopefully I'll have a new video of it in action in a couple of days.