Monday, February 28, 2005


The facts do not add up to anything resembling truth. My ankles are wobbling. My hair is disheveled from lack of awareness and self-hatred. My teeth are straight and white, lined up like piano keys. I want to learn how to style my hair in a bun.


I like him.


Sunday, February 27, 2005

My Basement

I have blasted a hole in the floor of my basement in hopes of achieving something. This is a leaky proposal, I have learned, for the small family that lives below my house, beneath the earth. Now my juice, which I contain in barrels in said basement, flows down through the hole to the family below. Who could have foreseen this disaster, I don't know. I am experimenting with juice and its ability to leak out of old barrels when they are tipped over. I blasted a hole in the floor of my basement to test whether the juice would seep through to the family below. However, I had no idea they would be moistened in any way.

I have sent via overnight delivery a package of absorbable, disposable towels that are found in a roll and possess convenient, perforated edges, neatly subdividing what would otehrwise be an unwieldy, extremely long, narrow towel, good for practically nothing, I am quite sure.

I am just telling you what happened. That is what happened.

Saturday, February 26, 2005


I have slipped into a coma. I have just watched 6 episodes of America's Next Top Model. What am I? My toast tower has been dismantled by a beast.



I am thinking of Merman now. It is time to cry.


Marzipan Mushrooms

I am sculpting these to calm myself.


The Beast Is Here

She is here. I told her she looked pretty this morning. My stomach is cramping due to my fearful proximity to her. She is loathsome. I have leg cramps and stomach cramps.


I miss prell

i really miss the jelly texture of prell. It used to be that you could pour it on to the tub and peel it off like a gummy bear. That's all.

Friday, February 25, 2005

I'm in trouble

Bad news. I left work early yesterday due to a donkey injury and one of the enemies of the mountain tattled on me. My boss called to say there was trouble in the air and to keep my head under my desk for the rest of the day. Its hot under here and my wine skin is leaking.

Thursday, February 24, 2005


This is to get you all fired up about tomorrow morning at Grand Central. It's real clean now. But it won't be clean tomorrow.


Advice cube

I am setting up an advice cube from 6am - 9am at Grand Central Terminal. Please come so that I can bale you out. I kind of care.


Another enemy operation.
My second pet mouse was murdered in the closet last night.
This morning I saw it but left the carnage for my care taker to bury.
My grief was too much.

Jusin timberlake

he spoke to me last night in a dream and asked me to ditch my hussies. I resisted until he promised me riches and a recording contract. I am an excellent singer. It is part of my work of course.

Battery Pack

Today I am going to suit up with my battery pack and take off to Mars.

Ruh Roh

I woke up this morning and had to get this mess out of my computer. I feel doomful.


Corn Cob Pipe

Did you know that sometimes I smoke a corn cob pipe? I do. It is smoldery. I smoke a mixture of tobacco and cabbage leaves. I love the smell of burning cruciferous vegetables. It gives me the breath of fire.

My Tower

Is a tower of power. I glue the toast together with archival glue (don't think I don't want this mother scratcher to last). I coat each piece of toast in polyurethene and then glue them into geomtric formations, please believe me, it is a sound polyhedral structure. This tower will be around for at least a few years. It is getting so big that it is taking over my living room - I sometimes hang out in it, there is a sitting area at the base. You can get all immersed, take some meds and think about the metaphoric potential of toast (no kidding, there is a lot of meaning there). Good luck coming up with an idea as good as this. I didn't want to tell you about it because I am so gung ho. I was afraid you would mistake it for arrogance. That's not what Mountain Man is about. Mountain Man wants to temper his enthusiasm with wisdom. He tries. Thanks again for your interest.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005


Can't wait to get back to making my tower.


I lied

Okay, so I'm not making vomit videos. Somebody already did that when I was in grad school and it made everybody retch in critique. I had a violent crush on the barfer so it was good for me to see it. It settled my stomach. It has been requested that I spill the beans and share my art projects but I can't.


Blessings from the art god. I am fat with ideas of toast and pancakes. I'm making videos of all my excretions. I have video rigged up to my toilet and am vomiting frequently. This is about coming together in unity and positivity! I love being part of the long history of object making. I work with my hands even if it is only a finger down my throat. I love you all and everything we share. BLESSINGS!


This was the image on the card they sent out at Christmas. But I think they are heathens. This really them. I promise.


The Family Next Door To My House

They scare me. They are always naked. I know nudity is not a sin but they are ALWAYS naked. I hate it. I prefer to keep my shoes and socks on NO MATTER WHAT.


In case you are wondering, I would fall on the building generator with an awesome view of Brooklyn.


I've eaten too many and now I have to stay in the men's room. You would be surprised how many guys don't wash their hands. They touch the doornob wtih their sticky poop laden hands sharing their crusts and herps.

I'm considering jumping out the window because guys are so grody and I hate being part of it. Just thinking about what comes out of me makes me wish I were dead. How does it work?

These Are The Ones

I want to grow horns like these. Horns are fun.



I badly want to grow some.



simon 2

I look a lot like Simon LeBon as well. I love myself!!


Simon LeBon is not an enemy. I have loved him since 5th grade and it's not stopping now. Back then I liked guys more than I do now. I was also super flexible and could do things to myself that you can't even imagine. I was vigilant regarding my spot. (3 spots.)
I also had a friend then and we would have sleep overs until one night I spooned him and he claimed I touched his kibble and bits. And I said I didn't but I did and then he wasn't my friend anymore. I assume that happens to every boy with his best friend.

I like it raw and juicy

Gimme some.



I am eating some. It tastes spicy.


To myself, Fairy Butler and Art Star for getting quoted on Thanks again Martin. You are neat.


I have a headache from too much drinky drinky last night. I had:

1 rum punch
2 white russians
4 corona lights
3 shots of tequila
1 vodka and tonic
1 banana daquiri (that was the most delicious one I have ever had)

Anyone know a good remedy for this type of existential ache? I am eating fudge as Beth suggested but it is not working. Screw you Beth.

Donkey Mask

I made a mask of Krakow's head and am going to wear it at work today. Krakow remains my greatest inspiration. Sorry Beth.


The Donkeyed Journey, Part One

I wrote this story last night. This is part one in an ongoing series. It is a snapshot into me for you. Note: this is fiction.

Yesterday I rode my pretty donkey down the street with no clothes on. We navigated around bags of garbage and recyclables. We turned the corner and did I mention I was naked? We entered the park grounds. To the left was a baseball diamond where several young boys and their apparent fathers played a feverish game. They took no notice of us. We frolicked amoungst the playground equipment, dashing through the jungle gym and prancing over see-saws to our hearts' content.

Today I am being driven insane by the mereness of reality. I am harried and over-stimulated as my employers bully me into accomplishing certain tasks I cannot stand. I think of others and can realize no moral satisfaction. I have disappointed myself and those closest to me and have temporarily lost sight of my original plan, which at one time included public derangement and antics of all kinds; however these ideas have now been lost in the "intersubjectivity of everydayness."

The only concept that remains within my grasp is alienation. Perhaps there is one more: ridicule.


Do you think this is weird?

Every morning I have to purchase an egg sandwich for my boss at the deli. He lets me keep the 50 cent change and he wants me to sit with him in the office while he eats it and then offers me the leftovers.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Me and Beth Last Year at the Renaissance Fair

Beth, I just found this picture on my computer from last year and it makes me weepy. I am maudlin. Please forgive me for my mean tauntings. But still you must heel when I tell you to.


I am sloppy drunk. I spilled my hip flask of Jack Daniels all over some important papers. I am in the doghouse now with my neutered boss. I think I am headed for serious reprimands.


Hairless just sent me this image through the email. I found out he is Dutch. He wants to be artistic. He wants to hold hands in the bathroom. I am going to grill him later about his Alien origins.


This is what I want to do to Pug. (Note: This is not a picture of me)



The worst offense. To be hairless and have a sinister laugh. Those conditions exist in the one sitting behind me.


1. Pug just got a glass of water immediately after I got a glass of water. She is following me.

2. When I said hi to the man sitting directly across from my desk, he just raised his eyebrows.

3. My eye patch keeps slipping off.


Hey Pan, you seem like a nice person. I am thinking a lot about bunnies. Please visit to help me save the bunnies. Here is one that really seems to need saving. Perhaps you and Ginger might like a pet?


More Cuddles

I feel cheap to ask for more cuddles but I have to. Please give me love. Not you Beth, you chowhound. I have taken Bobo's advice and made a tincture that has made me feel less swollen and more loving. Beware of the possessive and overwhelming love of Mountain Man. I am going to take a few swigs from my wine jug.


I am snarling right now. I am like a fiend. Larry Gagosian is offering me a treat! Thank you Larry. Why don't you allow me to webcam myself and have a live feed to your gallery????? What would be more interesting, hardly anything, I am sure.

I may have ringworm, but I believe my illness has a more dastardly source. I am getting to the bottom of it. Here is a picture of Beth's teeth, so you all understand how vile she is and why I have to punish her:



Another thing I like.

I wish my hussies were more attentive to my tender side. The slut is trying to destroy me. I've asked for non sexual touching today. Why can't you call me snuggles?


I need to think of something sweeter. I apologize for the hideous pictures.



By the time I got to work this morning, I felt something funny all over my face and back. Like a tingling. I am coming apart. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror and my lips, eyes and chin are all swollen and I have weird bumps on my back. Kind of like this, but all of them, all at once:

I know I am allergic to a lot of things. One of them is sawdust. I walked past a pile of it near the subway. I AM SO PISSED.


You should really visit this great website: to find out if you are part alien and if so, what race. It is good s---. I read the following description and it is too close for comfort, if you know what I mean. Beth, my main, hussy, may want to take heed. I am changing. But you are not allowed to leave me, EVER. Sasquatch are

"Large, hairy 'humanoids' who are usually troglodytial or cavern-dwellers, although they have been known to forage through mountainous or wooded areas on the surface in search for roots, berries, grasses and nuts which make up their diet. They are believed to possess a heightened 'sensing' ability which allows them to steer clear of 'human' influence."

I hate humans! That's SO me.

"Most Sasquatch apparently possess a human soul-matrix. They are usually described as being 6-9 ft. tall..."

I am 6 ft 8!!!!!!

"There have also been 'hairy hominoids' which possessed either 'robot-like' or 'amphibian' characteristics, suggesting bio-genetic manipulation to create 'biological machines' or 'cyborgs'."

I definitely have a robot side. Beth, back me up on this.

"Sasquatch apparently have the ability to spontaneously induce invisibility through producing an electromagnetic psychic shield around themselves, and are said to commute between our dimension and a "5th" dimensional realm."

I am so psyched to work on this last one. THIS IS WHAT I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED!!!! WISH ME LUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fairy Butler

Are you as lovely as this? I will think of you as I drool into my fast-growing fur today. You are special.



My mouse died in the closet last night. One of my enemies set a trap. As stated earlier there is something wrong with me. i'm just afraid that someone else might notice. I'm afraid my co-workers are disgusted by me. The way I eat is slurpy. I am the most embarrasing person in the world.


More on this later.


Monday, February 21, 2005

Simon and Garfunkel

Right now I am really feeling like that song, I am a rock, I am an island. Do you know what I mean?

"I have no need for friendship, friendship causes pain, it's laughter and it's loving I disdain...Don't talk of love, I've heard the word before...I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died. If I never loved, I never would have cried...(that's so me, MM) I have my books and my poetry to protect me. I am shielded in my armor. Hiding in my room, safe within my womb, I touch no one and no one touches me."

That's me!

But I am getting better. This blog is helping me to reach out.


I just answered the door and it was UPS. I opened the package and it was a pair of freeze-dried goat legs!!!!!!!! My transformation can now begin!!! Thank you to whomever sent this miracle via overnight delivery. I may live to see tomorrow. Now I just need to fix on the right unscrupulous but revolutionary surgeon to get them attached to my person once and for all. I can't wait to say good-bye to my natural legs.


Before I go, I need my caretaker (Mom) to take note of the mouse. (This is like moving out of a rental without cleaning up the shower mess!!) BACK TO ME!! Please take note that there is a mouse in the dresser. Right now it is digging a nest. I called one of my sluts to have her take care of it and she yelled at me. "I'm at work, why are you calling me about this again!!" (This is another reason why I must depart. Nobody cares.) So take note and don't disrupt the mouse as you gather my clothes to take to Salvation Army. (They will reject them anyway, so don't bother.)

Rat Army

The Harvest is Beginning!!!!!!


My Lawn

I have a very green, well-watered lawn. I have spent many hours grooming it with my large mower, the kind that you can ride. I also have four sprinklers so not an inch of grass goes without a drink. I do not have a garden, for I am not interested in such things.

Now welts have shown up all over my face and thighs. Why?

It is for these reasons that I feel "why me?" I have a smear of reddish hair on my chin, getting longer, almost four inches now that has become a receptacle for cereal.

I am going to, later today, serrate my tongue with a letter opener. Then I may knock myself over the head with a brick. If that doesn't work then I will undo my zipper and pee on my feet, pointing my penis directly at my naked toes (I will not have shoes on). Then, for the finale, I will hurl myself down the stairs and simply wait for the end to come. I suspect it may take a while, I look forward to the lengthy suffering.

Who will water my lawn? I hardly care anymore. But I care just enough to call my mother and request that she keep it green and healthy in my long-awaited absence. Good-bye mother. I read your diary so I know you don't want me to live. Take care of my grass, mother.

Death Masks Are Real Neat

. ...

on the subject of girth

I know there is something wrong with me.


I hope my readers don't think I am jesting about the end times. I site my own desperation and sadness as signs of the apocalypse. I am death on a pale horse. If this isn't the end of the world then it has to be the end of me.
I wonder how fat I would have to be to spontaneously combust. I'm on my way.

Essay #1

The topic of this essay is "Mountain Men: A Thing of the Past, Present or Future?" You should know that this is the topic of the essay and no other topic is the topic, no matter what may actually be discussed herein and hereinafter, respectively.

My college offered a class on this history of iconoclasm and its various utilitarian applications, a class I would have taken if only I had not contracted mono. I sincerely believe this class would have given me the perspective I so sorely lack on myself and my ideas. Most of all, vanity is what stops us from understanding the perceptions that others apply to yourself, don't you agree? (Please do not answer). It has been said that I have illustrated the concept of vanity in my painstaking unification of unrelated topics, like noczema and "back yards" (as in you have a nice back yard). But don't you find this argument outmoded in light of my decision to wear such loose-fitting slacks? (Again, please do not answer).

Back to the topic at hand. I believe now, after careful research (not to mention the public recitation of poetry that has been scrawled onto the backs of grocery store receipts) that Mountain Men are a thing of the present. They may have existed before, IN THE PAST, but they were only kidding. In addition a) I could not see them "way back when"; b) I had no knowledge of or interest in them; and c) due to my longstanding subscription to the following philosphies: "hear no evil, see no evil" and "if a tree falls in the forest, etc., etc." I do not think they really existed; and finally d) I believe they never existed through gut feelings, although I have received testimony to the contrary.

When I was younger than my brother, we drank cran-apple in the languid afternoon hours and held in our pee just for laughs. Now that I am older and my limbs are not so lithe, I take homeopathic remedies. Meanwhile, my younger brother sits on pillows in the basement, playing Boggle by himself. We are different, he and I, but we share the same beliefs. He is me.

One thing is certain: Mountain Men are not a simple idea. They do not necessarily exist in the mountains, as their name suggests. They have long hair, sometimes they have long beards, as we think they do in our mind's eye. THESE ARE UNIVERSAL IDEAS.

I hope you are not disheartened by my findings. I hope you are able to accept them with grace. They are believable findings, this you should know already.


What do you think about micronations? Should I join this one or create one of my own? It sounds perfect for me, Mountain Man, a man who defies category and transcends both rules & societal norms. I think maybe Candy and Frank might feel this way too. I am so magicful today. Today I believe.

"Welcome to the Kingdom of Babkha, a micronation established as an Internet based model nation, simulating Persian culture, civil and political institutions, and society. Babkha is a legitimate, functioning, and non-territorial micronation that possesses immanent, virtual global sovereignty."

PS - My stomach is much better, thanks for all your prayers and love.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

The Dutch

I have a theory about the Dutch that needs some work. I believe they are a deviant people. Does anyone have any personal experience that they can share on this subject? I would appreciate it. I hate to generalize, but with the Dutch, it's hard not to.

PS, Part of my theory involves the possibility that the Dutch are actually an alien race, like the Swedes. I know this is controversial but I think offending a few people is ok, especially if you have higher goals in mind, as I do.


This is a shoutout to those who love devilish things. I am considering joining a satanic group because of my interest in teepees and wild grasses. The rituals take place in the woods and are very tribal. I will enlist my adoring hussies to build caves from red dirts. Then we will cover the caves with grasses. This is the location for my surgical team of doctors. Damian, are you interested in joining me for some man bonding?

This One Goes Out to Fairy Butler

Fairy, I think this short film was made for you. Perhaps a ritual you might need to enact yourself? Cheers.

A Strange and Inspiring Man I Cannot Imagine

His name is Orryelle Defenestrate-Bascule. Does anyone know him? Apparently he married his masculine and feminine sides a few years ago and gave birth to himself, a hermaphrodite? But he looks like a man so I am not sure. I guess he is from Australia. They seem to party harder and stranger down there. Especially interesting is the Metamorphic Ritual Theater. The engage in antics I could not engage in except in lie form. Here is someone who is really doing things and I am at home eating paste like a fool.

I can't believe his threshold for pain. He must be very athletic. What I appreciate most is that in his Mutant Manifesto, included in the site, he asks if anyone can help him have eagle wings or snakeskin attached surgically to his back. Kindred Spirit! A very delightful man.

Puppy Mills

I am concerned about the puppy mills. If you are concerned too you should visit this website. Since I have been sick I have a lot of time to research critical issues.


Here is something I am considering. Saving myself for another time. When goat legs can be attached with no problem and maybe I can turn my incipient horns into real horns. I will not be considered a freak. This is my newest line of attack.

Cheers to pink eye for making this site somewhat about art again. However, as is my wont, I am bringing it back to self-enhancement/mutilation.

This is truly amazing

Thank you for revealing this to me. I would like to share this with everyone.

As for art,

I promise to go see some on Tuesday. I will have much to say I am sure, after a fun-loving, happy-infested visit to Chelsea. Wish me luck!

PS, I am still totally sick! This blows.


Mountain Man is up all night sick. He is very very very sick. So much so that it's not even funny to him. I apologize to everyone. Just make this hideous illness go away.

You know who you are.

I know who you are and I'm really disgusted that you are still carrying on with this. When it started I was innocent to your deceitful nature. You were just another group of people for me to avoid. Unfortunately I have spent some time in your presence and now I have to focus on hiding.


I am in hate with all of you. you are gross. fleshy monsters with pussy undersides. Go away.

Saturday, February 19, 2005


I can't stop thinking about you.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Impulse Control

I have none. Gimme gimme gimme. I want to grab boobies and lick arms. Eat other peoples' lunch. Suck on phones. Leave my germs everywhere and laugh too loudly. Hurt people with mean comments. Then nuzzle up to them and ask for love. I am so complicated. BUT SO HONEST.



Forgot to Mention

I have a dead twin. This is why I am so bereft. My mother accused me of murdering him in utero. She said that's the kind of man I am.

Wine at Work

I brought a jug of wine in a fabric bag to work. I tied it tight with rope at the neck. It makes me feel Medieval. I will sip from it surreptitiously under my desk. My teeth and lips will stain and I will walk with a wobble. I am looking forward to looking back on having been drunk at work.


PUG is out today.
The hairless, shirt open is in and cries out helplessly by the printer.
The rest are busy with their torments. Taking over the world and what-not.
I'm trying real hard to look busy.
Otherwise, I am dying inside.
That's all I can say.

Loose Stools


An Adjustment To My Settings

That's all I need. Will someone please adjust me? Just reach inside my control box and push some buttons. My meat and two veg will thank you later. I am still looking for someone who knows how to help me with my leg-removal-and-reattachment-with-goat-legs operation. Does anyone know a cutting-edge surgeon who I can call? ASAP?????


I am concerned for myself these days. There have been several death threats and that, COUPLED WITH MY RELATIONSHIP WITH BEYONCE!!!, is creating an atmosphere of distrust and jealousy in my home. I had to lie a little.

Do you know where I am going with this? Now I am living with my Mom, my donkey is in an abandoned lot, and I'm worried about early-onset alzhiemers. And all because I'm protecting my balls.

I Can't

I can't deal with reality. Only fakeness and dreaminess. I dread being out in the world unless I am drunk from spirits. I want to grow fur and take naps all day. I want to disintegrate.

Cat food

I have run out of food in my swampy apartment. So what can I do besides eat some cat food? It tasted nice, like liver. But a little soggy, a little too much sauce.

Mountain man would like to go on a trip in his imaginary airstream. If Mountain Man could meet the right lady (nude) maybe he would buy a real airstream and take her on a (nude) road trip.

Any takers?

Could it be?

A hussy named BEYONCE KNOWELES keeps calling me and leaving messages on my answering machine. I am tempted to believe she is the real deal for a number of reasons.

1. She sounds breathy.
2. She keeps calling
3. She is successful in her persistence
4. She claims to have nice hair
5. She was introduced to me through my blog

Listen. It is possible because I am a performer and so is she. The talented are drawn to the same. That has been proven.

Thursday, February 17, 2005


You know about pug.
Pug has a friend.
He sits behind me
He wears his shirts open on Fridays.
HE is hairless.


Another thing I want is to squish!
I wanna squish all my co-worker's faces!!!!
Do you ever get that feeling when you see all these little eyes smushed onto a head and a nose with two holes poking out of it?
It is irresistable. I am filled with a wierd type of love when I picture this.


The beasts are killing me with their mean ropey hands. They are swaying around my neck, threatening-like. I am growing fangs in response. I want to drool on someone instead of onto my lonely desk. If I could find a young woman to smother with bodily fluids I would feel so happy. You may think I am a misogynist but I am not that foolish. Women are turmoil.


You rule. I bow down before your dog parts. You are an inspiration. Please visit me in the night, in my dreams. I will protect you from strange ferrets with multiple appendages. I promise to heal you with the balm of my mountainman-ness.


I really wished I worked in an all nude office. What I want to see is pale greyish skin, pimples, shaggy patches of hair, and puckered rolls of fat. I want to see hairy backs near the copier and flabby tushes.

What is wrong with nudeness?

I want to scratch.

Sexy feeling

Can I tell you something secret?

Last night I got sexy touches from big face.
I know I said that I hate the beast, but I'm drawn to the stevie nicks style bell sounds.
Her/his sculptures are like a siren song. I wanted to rip them apart so bad!
I know that is wrong. So instead I scratched around.

I am so ashamed.

Yesterday's Lessons

1. The movement of the clouds is controlled by the movement of my bowels.
2. I am a big liar. I did not get into Greater NY. But trust me I am going to the opening with my work and installing it there anyway.
3. I am looking into having my legs removed and replaced with goat legs. I am dying to be half goat!
4. After this operation is successfully completed, I will vests every day. Maybe a top hat. Always a timepiece on a chain in the vest pocket.
5. I love doughnuts.
6. It is ok to be rude.
7. Oats are hard on my stomach.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

The mushroom fadeth

I have hates again. Rainbow pleasure diminished. Cancerous insecurity.

I am so embarrased! Here is what I accomplished at work.
1. threw up in recycle bin
2. chewed up notebook with teeth in the manner of the hamster
3. collected drool in my in/out box.
4. Made mini sculptures with tape for pug
5. drawings of my donkey.
6. grew tail, third leg, RIGHT!


I am a gentle man who wants to live peacefully with the flowers. I am on my way to an awakening of sorts. My donkey wants love and why shouldn't I offer it up? There have been some negative types commenting on my blog. I don't want to censor anyone. (I believe in freedom) but my hope is that I can share the rainbow pleasures of the mushroom with everyone.

Please join me in raising up the glory of art.


I think I just grew a tail.


Last night I ran into an enemy.
Let me describe him/her
COWBOY boots.
I once kindled her/his fire.
It was disgusting.


I think the pug is on to me.
I'm afraid to share my purist self!

Everything is me

The kaleidescope of the universe is unfurling in my pants!!!! I am delighted!!!! Please get freaky with me. My co-workers want to see me nude. I know it, I can feel their desire in my chest hairs. Each one is rising up, sticking out and reminding me of the glory of love.


My boss keeps looking over here. I have my head down again.
1. do not smile
2. resume no eye contact
3. take care of recycling bin
4. presents for pug nose only once a week
5. walk by boss so that he is aware of my presence once a day.
6. say good morning to co-workers.


My creamy coworker has a wrinkled brow. I had to vomit in my little recycling trash can this morning. Just a little. I did it quietly.

Nothing can break the waves of pleasure I am experiencing.

Thank you magic mushroom.
I love you and I love everyone.
I love my coworkers!
I love the dewdrop on the flower!
I love the scent of erasers!
I love the warmth of the paper when it comes forth from the copy machine!

Drugs are so good

I highly recommend that everyone do drugs on the job. I know it will be a productive day for you if you are high as a kite! I am gazing at my cat-nosed co-worker. She looks so creamy today. I am going to go over and lick her fur. Maybe she can do the same for me. That is true love.


I put a paper clip all the way into my ear but it doesn't hurt. I will try another. Cute! I think I see miniature rabbits behind my computer. They are drinking cran-apple juice. I am going to try to talk to them.

A Worthy Experiment

Today I am going to ingest psychedelic mushrooms before I leave for work. I expect my trip to begin when I am on the Q train. It should be a jolt, a refreshing strangeness and I will soon see if I am in any state to complete my clerical tasks on the job. I will bring a diary to note the crashing turn of events. I wonder if I will be fired. I may have to make sculpture out of paper clips. Please check in with me throughout the day to see whether I have had a "bad trip." I need all the love I can get for this one.


There is a certain special girl at my job. She has bad skin, but a cute nose and a cute coat. I make adorable sculptures for her and leave them on her seat. It is a secret and I want it to stay that way. The sculptures are all made from office supplies. I try to fashion outfits in miniature for her. She is always bragging about how much money she spends on clothes. This way she can have the coveted outfits without losing her shirt so to speak. Last week I made her a little ruffled bag. Is it a bad sign that she throws them away? I figure she is commenting on post modern art. I will not give up. I want to stroke her head and cut her hair for her.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

My Hair

is really quite long. It is light brown and a bit shabby, if I am to be honest. This blog, as you know, is all about honesty. I do not have a beard yet. I am waiting until my hair turns more grey. That is the appropriate shade for a mountain man's beard to be. I do not live in the mountains as my name suggests. I live here, amongst you all, in the the complicated urban vista. I am hemmed in by society. However, my mission is to be a mountain man of mystery! I do not clean my clothes very often. I do whittle from time to time. Thanks for your interest.

Busy Scissors

I am clipping paper and cutting it today. I am making fabulous shapes. Multi-colored. Fun! I am hanging them from strings. That is today's idea. Maybe I should include this piece in the Greater NY show at PS 1? What do you think? Or are you too jealous to comment?


I am a brainiac. I used to be so good at math, did you know? Algebra especially. I came in third in a county-wide math competition when I was in eighth grade. I wore navy trousers, a white shirt, and brown shoes. My hair was parted on the side far too neatly. I had a few friends but not many. That was me! My teacher's name was Mr. Quirk, can you believe it? He had wide bug eyes. I like bugs.

I wish I had more to say on the topic of art. I am underwhelmed.

Colon update

I have diarrhea I'm not being fancy or figurative.
This is the real deal. the great wave. A lovely flow.
Consider this.
Diarreah is my creative expression. There is the anus of the painting.
And then there is the paint. I am full of paint today!

hells bells

Today I'm filled with self loathing. I wish to be called Samson today. My raincoat is opened too wide. I've shared and become vulnerable with Patty and now she wants to cut my hair. NEVER!

Monday, February 14, 2005

The Sadness of Time

Spiny reptiles are crawling along my limbs. I am swamped in and fogbound. Everything is turning mellow yellow and I am at the end of my tether. I think I am taking drugs but I am not. I took some sudafed earlier but that's it. My grandmother loves pickles. She was beaten by her disastrous father. Please help me for I am so unreal. This is not meant to be silly. I think I am going crazy. I can't take anyone out for Valentine's dinner tonight. Those skunky hussies will have to fend for themselves.

Wanting to Die

I don't understand gallerists. I feel so puny today!!!! I am trying to have a career and really be someone but it isn't working so well. I feel like slime when dealers talk to me. I have no sense of pride, I just feel like a small bug under their shoes. I didn't think it would be like this, that if they liked my work and wanted to put me in a show, I would feel important and special. But instead I feel like chow.

An Apology to Soccer Mom

Dear Soccer Mom,

I am so sorry. I would like to get to know you again. Can we start over?


Mountain Man

Eyes of the Tiger

I am thinking of Tiger Eyes and how mysterious they can be. Dark and sparkly, like shiny subway tokens, they possess wisdom. It's very New Age. I haven't made any art in a while, I've just been musing about various things like this. I consider these musings to be important work though. Don't you?

By the way, Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you all have some rumbling fun with your loving mates!!!! I know I will. I have at least five hussies to choose from. I will leave them all hanging until the last minute. Mountain men always get their pick of the litter. I will see who begs the best.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

soccer mom is not for real

you are an angry blogger, soccer mom. i can see through your phony put-ons. i bet you are a man with soiled briefs. i wanted to share my soul. i made myself tender and ready in the way a man should. i am looking for real love.

soccer mom

Soccer Mom. This is a shout out. I love your mind. Maybe we should make art together. I have so much rainbow energy to share! And so much angry animal to ravish you with.

I love me



WELCOME!!!!!!!!!!! BUT be warned. This is a disgusting offensive blog.


These are my hankerings.

1. The love of womens.
2. No more acne.
3. Horses.
4. jello.
5. my mother's lap.

I am a failure.

My co-workers are complaining about me. Especially one that sits in front of me. I don't understand it.

This is the most inspiring day of my life!

I have never had so much fun with myself and my respondents. I love having a blog! The only problem is that I am not getting any work done. I am involving myself in trivial shenanigans rather than completing my important tasks. I am too obsessed with my blog and my liver.

I am going to move to the southwest where it is legal to sleep with one's donkey. I am going to take a shower so I smell less homeless. Thanks for all of your advice, everyone.


I dare my readers to guess what I look like. I bet you can't do it. Note: I am not a hippy.


dear mer,

i have tried to comment on your most recent posting but it is not working. here's to you and your blog! you are cruelly inspired and deathly rejuvenating!!!!!!!!!! thanks for your fun and your art.


mountain man

ps - do you like my blog?

pps - for those of you who don't know, mer's blog is you don't mind if i advertise your blog on mine do you, mer?

Another person I have modeled myself after.

Her name is Ty. She too is an artist. An animal artist. She trains kittens to jump from heights that are unnatural. She freezes pig embryos and displays them in shallow yellow plastic dishes. I love her for her generosity and her silky hair. She wears beautiful red slacks and has a shapely large smooshy tush. I seek to emulate her.


I begin to stroke sculptures in a chelsea gallery. It is very exciting for me and other gallery goers begin to stroke as well. We stroke each other. This lasts for hours. Many people join me.

Liver Damage

Visit to find out about your liver!!!! Clean up your act like I am trying to!!!!!!!!

Eye contact.

I can't.

A man I have modeled myself after.

He is also an artist. He is huge in the upper body but has small legs, he is like a large sign advertising strangeness. He wears brown shoes like most men do, however this man is unlike all other men. He once convinced me I had liver damage. He prepares poisonous tinctures for me and sends them to me via regular mail. He is timeless. Beware of him. He may hurt you with his cat o' nine tails which he carries in his low-slung weapon belt. He is a craftsman.

oh my god.

I have no purpose. Only my donkey understands my plight. I comfort myself with the simple pleasures of a peasant. Civilization is like my excrement. I can do without it.

Sex with animals

I love to have sex with furry donkeys. First I ride them, then I shoot them with a tranquilizer gun, then I enter them from behind. For me, it is a metaphor for entering an artwork. I like art so much, that I consider my like a form of penetration. For instance, in looking at paintings, I am convinced that there is always a locatable point of entry - the anus of the painting, if you will. I suppose it could be called a vagina as well, but anuses are more universal - they transcend gender. Don't you think? Try this out next time you look at a painting. I defy you not to locate its anus!!!!!

I can't stop

Today I promised myself that I would make eye contact with my co-workers. I promise to update my readers as to the success of this experiment. I have to really focus.


My honesty has driven me to desperate measures. I have told my co-workers about the vegetables. I can hear them whispering in an adjacent cubicle.

past my prime

I am worried that I am past my prime. I wish there was some more good art blogs. I want to make mine really good but honestly, I am scared to share myself because I am too honest. I need to read about others that I am in competition with. Or else I will just tranquilize myself and get a fatty liver.

An Experience Worth Sharing

I am really going through an experience right now. I am so nostalgic for the girls of my past. I am googling them constantly and wondering if they might still be submergeable. What do you think?

I'm defeated.

So. You know how I'm googling my enemies. Well. I googled an enemy and it turns out that she got into something I applied for. UNACCEPTABLE!

I can tell they are sniffing me

Everyone comes by my cubicle and sniffs audibly today. I think they are on to me. I wish everyone would just love me for me. Do I smell like chicken? I slaughtered 2 last night for dinner. A man has to eat.

I smell homeless

Today I smell homeless. I'm not sure, but I think it was the seat I sat in on the bus. It is that or me. A girl sitting next to me on the bus said that something smelled bad. Today I will not perform. I am too distraught. The vegetables are killing my spirit.


I am at a gallery in chelsea. I stroke sculptures and force all around me to stroke as well. Everyone begins to stroke each other. Wild orgy ensues. Hours pass. Many people join me in strokes.

boning myself

now i am boning myself with tubers!!!!!!!!!!!! don't tell anyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


i am me tonight. tonight i tongued vegetables in the dark. i took a carrot and a zucchini to bed with me and performed deep oral performances on them. i am practicing for who knows what because i am not gay. it was hot. that's all i will reveal. just picture dark salads and you may begin to understand the pleasure i experienced.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Special Delivery

A special delivery has come to me! This afternoon I went to the bathroom, looked in the toilet after I was done and found a special surprise from up above! Delight upon delight!


i am applying scum to various extremities on my person. it is getting in the way. i can't stop this uncomfortable application. i am very upset. i am sitting in my studio worrying about purpose. it seems i have none. i am accumulating artworks but no sense of self.

yesterday i was attacked by a st. bernard. he bit my leg so hard i thought i was dead.

i am afraid of many many people.

i still hate the cecily brown show even though i have heard that other people like it.

i am worried that i am developing a pear shape, which is a very humiliating shape for a man to have.

i am 32 years old, fully a man, but still feeling like a little baby puss.

Monday, February 07, 2005

I love

Myself. I really do. I am concerned that my readership may think that I am self hating. I am not. I poke myself out of concern for my welfare. the same goes for the chickens and rabbit breeding. I do all this not because I hate myself and want to sabatage my love life. Its just that only special girls will accept me. I don't want to waste my time on the others. That is true love.

My work

Dearest Reader, I am not recieving the appropriate response to my work in the public sphere. And so this is my new venue. So far, my audience has been exceedingly generous and not at all like the audience I am accostomed to. So here is my work for the day. I hope you appreciate my inventiveness.

I collected all the staplers at my job and locked them in my desk.
i sharpened every pencil in the supply closet and then glued them under my desk.
this will continue at work until I am caught. My intention is to create little gestures of beauty. Stealing is beautiful if you are angry. Pencils lined up poke at my knees as I sit before my computer. This is my punishment for stealing and for being so handsom.

My art practice MUST continue even as I data entry. It is imperative because I AM AN ARTIST. Some say that even if you say you are an artist that you are NOT. A nasty little cow named Robert Zeller has said as much and shame on him and on his seed. He might consider me a charlatan. THAT IS THE POINT!

I need some imput. Please be advised that I am sensitive, but willing to listen to all critique. I sometimes cry.

Feeling bad.

In thinking about the artworld from an artist's perspective, it's important to remember:

1. You are puny.
2. Your ideas are runny like soft-boiled eggs - and also like soft-boiled eggs, they have probably occurred before.
3. You will not ever succeed, but once in a while you may get a swelled head and think you are magical.
4. People will hate you and want to bite you.
5. You will hate others and want to bite them.

If you feel like adding to this list, please go ahead. I am eager to learn, to expand my experience, to merge with others, to become less puny.

Sunday, February 06, 2005

I am not famous yet.

I am going to be famous. I realize in this blog I have not mentioned my own work. What an oversight!!! I am a performance artist who does things like the following: read books to the elderly without ever finishing them; take one aspirin a day; fold pieces of paper into slightly irregular shapes; buy chewing gum in bulk; walk jauntily around my neighborhood in a green furry body suit; talk to logs. You will be hearing of me soon, I have no doubt. I am a gadabout.

snazzy dashes

I think you know how I feel. SO GREAT!
I'm sure a lot of men feel this way after some pushy in the package.
I mean to change all bad habits and reach out to the enemies among us.

Saturday, February 05, 2005


Following is a list of bastards (again I have given them semi-rhyming pseudonyms to protect their true identities):

I had to delete the list. It was too controversial.

May these people burn holes in their pants from having so much gas.

Friday, February 04, 2005

Another thing I am in hate with.

I HATE women who have too many highlights and wear outfitty outfits and try to look me in the eye with a knowing pouncy look. I want to ridicule them. They are blights. Once, last night, I beheld a woman with striped hair and a New Jersey look. She wanted me to want her but I would not. I refused. Just as I refuse, weekly, to clean my rabbit hutch. My rabbit spills juice all over the hutch and I can't, I won't clean it. That's just how I am. I hope you still like me.

Minimalists are chilly

They are alcoholics and they don't share. They are often vegetarian.
I date them always because they need my fatty meats. Consider this a shout-out!

Thursday, February 03, 2005

Rotten egg

I would like to warn my gentle readers about an enemy in the artworld. I have changed his name for the sake of his privacy. Lets call him Calvin. He has bad habits such as:


That is all I will say. Don't say I didn't warn you.


Is so gross! Anyway, here's someone else I hate, he is a fatty. I think he will bust through his shirt some day soon. He is a sculptor of ugliness, of objects that we know from familiarity, from our childhoods, from late nights ordering pizza. That is all I will say.

A smallish, impish woman whom I know.

Her name (and I am changing it to protect her identity) is HeeHo Long. She is too small for words. Her eyes are squinty and she laughs far far far far far too much. Everyone agrees. How I wish she would stop laughin!!!!!! She is not such a bad painter. I believe she could be better though. Her real name rhymes with the pseudonym I have given her. There are some people who it's ok to hurt and others whom you should not hurt in the same way. Hurt them more quietly, that is my motto.

Soldier of TRUTH

This blog is all consuming. I have so much to say dear reader! I am a man with a raincoat showing off my wares. I am wearing the truth. This is truth telling realism. I apologize to the world in advance. It is a heroic duty and I am called as a soldier of ART! YES I am. Don't try to dissuade me. The artworld can rest easy now.

There are so many people I love and hate at the same time.

Now for some good stuff. Uh-huh. I hated the Cecily Brown show. I find her work to be antiquated and vulgar, but not in a good way. The pictorial information is dispersed too evenly throughout the canvas. There is nothing to grab onto, no focus, no purpose. The only painting I slightly liked was the lovely greeny. Although all I liked about it was the shade of green she chose and the hideous fleshly pink that contrasted it. For someone with such supposed vigor and dash she is actually very timid when it comes to paint application or variation of surface. I know she is pretty to some and is obviously a good socialite. I am not blind. I know how far this can get you in the artworld. But I think it's time she be forcibly removed for good. What I am proposing is the removal and destruction of all of her canvases from Gagosian. Who will join me? I am in a foul mood today!!!! I cannot button the top button of my dungarees and I must go out this evening!!!!!!! Back to the bulimia for me, I guess. Did you know that not many males suffer from bulimia? I am one of the sad ones. A victim of the world, in my estimation.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005


I think people have forgotten passion in liking art and making art. What is the future when it is suffused with dimness? Who will love us when we cease to exist?

a shadowy figure

There is someone I wish to mention in the artworld. He is very shadowy. He cannot be trusted. He does not respect artists and he does not give them the props they deserve. Who I am referring to will be revealed later. He has a fat stomach. That's all I can say.

Rachel Mason, part 3

i have decided that rachel mason is not good. i wholeheartedly stand by this opinion. if i ever meet her, haha on her, because she won't know it's me. i am a mystery. what i was impressed with before, for the sake of clarity for my readers, was the extravagant strangeness of her failure. who else would make terra cotta plant holders in the shape of a very ugly person? well, scratch that, because people seem to like garden gnomes. but you know what i mean. i think her work is senseless. in terms of it being nonsensical. the mixture of materials had no narrative resonance. that is my new thought based on several hours of meditation.

the artworld and what i think

well what are we supposed to do about all the disheartening work? i hate seeing television sets on the floor, facing up. it is hard to learn anything from walking around chelsea, but i think it's important not to get too jaded, right? so here are some shows i think i liked: chris hammerlein. i can't think of any others right now but it made me want to walk around nude in the gallery. lucky thing i am shy so i wouldn't be able to. (that woulld be embarrassing, right?) i particularly like his treatment of pigs. he interprets them so slyly. devious plum piggies up to no good!! gossiping down on the farm like that. i wonder if all the work is supposed to take place in the mental landscape of the barnyard. hmmmm......that's food for thought!!!! no pun intended!!!!!!!

what would you say if

I told you about a friend who has a tuber growing from her breast. It is so foul. It is shaped like a penis.

My hottest fantasy

is to nail a slutty nurse while a conceptual video piece is playing. You know how dark it gets in those rooms. No one would know and we would go at it for 5 or 6 minutes, that's all.

I'm sorry.

I am sorry to say that I didn't LOVE the Aaron Spangler show at LFL. I had such high hopes for him. But the work was dark. Chewy. sooty. I got stuck in the murk. the well crafted images did not take me into the reliefs. They repelled.

Rachel Mason

More thoughts on Rachel Mason, a few minutes afte rmy earlier post. I think it means that the world is so complicated and filled with faces. Crowds are something I am thinking of a lot. I live in a big city and these smiling baldies seem to be saying how do you do?!!!!!!!


My pals and I went to Chelsea this weekend and we saw some wonderful things. I was especially impressed with the work of Rachel Mason at Jessica Murray Gallery! Deep content, very very good idea and wacky presentation. But what does it mean?

inauguration of a great new blog

Hi artworld!!!!!!! Here I am. Ready to deliver witticisms and keen observations that everyone wants to read.