The one about The Pinhole Camera Work

It's funny this is supposed to be an art blog and this is my first art entry. And if your expecting me to be a smart ass (like normal) I won't be, because this is an art entry. So the past few days I've taken a dive back in time and been working with homemade pinhole cameras, which were the first kind of camers. (Also known as shoebox cameras) Basically you make a light-tight device, poke a hole in it, and expose the hole to light after putting in photo paper or film. Now the exposures themselves are a little tougher. You pretty much stare at the sun, try not to burn your retinas, and estimate a time. This time could be anywhere between 10 seconds and 10 minutes. Yes, there is a little experimentation involved. But thats the fun part! Actually is awfully frustrating. I killed a child out of anger today. Okay so I guess I am being a smart ass. Anyway, its a really good time and really rewarding to experiment and see what various things do. You make a camera out of anything really. I made one out of a pringles can yesterday and a PVC pipe today. If you are interested in learning how. Contact me and for the low low price of 39.99 an hour I'll show you how! And if you act now I'll throw in a free Shamwow! They pick up anything. But you have to contact me in the next 1.3 seconds, you know because we can't do this all day.

PS: I'm totally addicted to Twitter now. I feel like a pompous jerk for making fun of it and then getting one. So I am a pompous jerk. Damn it. The crazy crack lady on 45th street was right.

Travis 

The one about Foot in Mouth

I just pwned myself and got a Twitter account. This is quite contradictory to a previous post about how Twitter was for crazy people. I've found its a great way to see what people are up to. I really love YouTube and have a few favorite contributers. They all have Twitters and now that I have one I can find out when they are making a new video or posted a new video. So not so crazy in certain applications like mine. However, it would be weird if you used it to stalk people, like I don't know, say Megan Fox. Nope, not good for that. But I don't do that. Seriously. I don't. Shut up.

www.twitter.com/SirTravis

Travis

The one about Best Buy

Hold on kiddies. This one is epic.

Best Buy makes me uncomfortable. Not really the store. But the minions that work in it. You know the ones I speak of; blue shirted, kaki wearing, viciously helpful individuals who down right scare me. Yesterday I woke up with the perfectly normal thought of needing to return a universal remote that tragically did not work with my previously mentioned superior home entertainment system. I was upset that ten dollars of mine was locked up in a poor investment. So I promptly repackaged the remote and prepared to leave. It was during this preparation that I realized I was unsure of where I had bought the damned remote. However to my glee I remembered that I had saw one like it at my local Best Buy (hell on Earth). So I thought to myself, "They sell them, they should take it back, even without a receipt." This I later found was an ignorant assumption. I walked through the door and was greeted by one of Satan's yellow shirted security minions who literally said "Wad'a got for me?". My heart stopped. I was instantly transported back to my drug running days in Florida in the 70's. By drugs I mean prescription medication for the elderly and by 70's I mean never. But this was an awkward situation. I knew that I was unsure of where I had bought this item. I knew that if this electronics slave figured this out I would receive the full wrath of this evil institution in the form of a mugging consisting of being flogged with RCA cords and clearance signs. Or just refused the return. But remember, this was ten un-spendable dollars or seven minutes in heaven with former Senator Larry Craig. Which were the two choices I was presented with upon the return. But thats another story. Actually its not. Anyway, I managed to make it past the doorman to the customer service desk. This is where I started to feel the true heat of the flames emitting from the basement of enslaved consumers, that was undoubtedly beneath me. I again was welcomed by one of Satan's wife's in the form a male for some weird reason. After being informed that I was unable to produce a receipt (because it probably never existed) I was grilled with questions. Did I use a credit card? He was trying to track my purchase through government satellites and black magic called "computer". I was frightened. My shaky voice answered. His eyes lit with flame. Dark wings sprouted from his spine. He then inquired if I had used something called a "Rewards Zone" card. Clearly some kind of membership to the evil side. Something about being given prizes for the amount of good, kind hearted people (like myself) you capture. I again answer no. This was not pleasing. He grabbed a mouth piece and mumbled some kind of evil alien language of codes. His leader emerged from a dark cloud that seeped though the floor. This apparent king of this particular layer of hell typed something into this "computer" and vanished before my eyes. Upon completing this, the transaction was finished, as were my dreams of Senator Larry Craig due to the fact that I only received eight dollars. I did not question this because I simply wanted to escape with my life, and soul if it wasn't too much to ask. I wondered around the store for a few moments as to not attract any curious blue shirts. I then quickly retreated to the safety of my vehicle happy with an endeavor well executed.

Travis

The one about My Obsession

It is official. I am a typical American consumerist bastard. I have become ridiculously obsessed with home entertainment. In the last month I have acquired an HDTV and a 5.1 surround system. I wont say by what means, but I stole them. Thats not true. Seriously. Joe, from the FBI, my official statement is I didn't steal them. You'll never take me alive. I just can't stop working on making my system better and higher quality. I built stands for the speakers and hijacked my DVD player from my parents, which I was letting them borrow. Hey, it's mine. Anyway, I feel dirty. When I watch Jay Leno in amazing HD, so amazing it's like you could touch his illegally huge chin, with 5.1 Dolby Digital surround sound I think of the children. The children in Africa. Not the hungry ones. The ones who live in huts and don't have HDTV. It's not because they cant afford it, it is simply because Time Warner hasn't figured out a way to exploit them into paying for better signal strength. So I just want to have a Michael Jackson type sleepover, minus the rape, so that all the oppressed African children can see how truly large Leno's chin is. I mean it's monstrous. You could land not only a plane but a fleet of planes on it. It's really big. Seriously. Google it. Really.

Travis

The one about The Mission

As I am sure you have noticed. I am white. Very white. But for some reason when late night hits I love to force my iTunes (against it's will) to play Hip Hop. There is just something about dancing in the dark when no one can see you. I just thought how funny the previous sentence could be if "dancing" was replaced with "killing" or "making counterfeit money". So as I write this I am dancing the robot and lawnmower to Hip Hop. Jealous? Yes, I mean being jealous of a white kid dancing by himself in his room, in kakis and birkenstocks. Whatever. Tonight was a special night. I had awoke this morning with the exciting self-assigned mission to watch "The Incredible Hulk" circa 2008 with my new surround sound I got from Santa. (Thanks mythical jackass who ruined my childhood) Having finished this amazing piece of theatrical beauty I thought back to Ang Lee's "Hulk" circa 2003. I had seen this film five years ago and fell asleep during it. The only film ever that wins the completely worthless prize of being better than Nyquil. So I decided to watch the film. I jumped on to my favorite movie streaming site and began the fun (torture). I soon realized, five minutes into the seven minute intro, why the "Hulk" film adaption had been remade. Ang Lee's version is comparable to if Satan and Ron Jeremy made a child and that child ate a baby seal while they are both simultaneously being fed into a wood chipper and the "baby-seal chips" are being shot into an Alzheimer suffering, blind, elderly woman who wondered away from her home. It's bad. In fact, I couldn't watch it. Literally. I turned it off after 17 minutes of nothing. No action, no boobs, no Hip Hop. I've never seen any of Ang Lee's films. I don't count "Hulk" since I physically can't watch it. Falling asleep or otherwise. I don't plan to dip into any of Ang Lee's films ever again. Unless I need to put my self into a two hour coma or if I can't get a woman to leave my house. Ang Lee's "Hulk" should be the new form of "enhanced interrogation" the government loves to talk about. Just strap the poor bastard in. Thats just awful, no one deserves that.  

Travis

The one with The New Year Wish

Well comrades we made it. It's 2009 and everything is great. The economy is crashing, the government can't find the 700 billion we loaned them for them to loan, and I'll probably be water boarded for saying "comrades". Speaking of the dirty reds, (more patriotic I trust) Cuba is celebrating 50 wonderful years of shared wealth, driving old cars, and the U.S. embargo. AKA 50 years of kick-ass Communism. All right! Way to go Cuba. Momma is proud of you. Anyway, as I mentioned its a new year, and if you are still in your liquor induced comma you needed me to say that again. 2009 means exciting things to come! Well actually the only things I can think of are we are one year closer to humankind being annihilated in 2012 according to the Mayans and that Large Hadron Collider is supposed to create a black hole sometime this summer. Man, I love conspiracy theorists. Remember that cult that all wore Nikes and poisoned themselves with the brilliant idea to catch a ride on Halles Comet? No? Me neither. But I hope something along those lines happens in 2012. Like perhaps a group of people band together to create a human ladder that reaches into space only to discover their mothership only accepts members with rattails. So only that douche Jimbo from back in the ninth grade gets to go. Whoa, that would make a great MTV True Life. "I just got left behind by my mothership because I wasn't redneck enough." Those interviews would be hilarious. But this all hinges in that damn Mayan calender. Its funny how people believe that the Mayans could predict the extinction of the human race, but not their own race. Thats like saying, "My dad was president, why can't I?" Okay now I'm definitely getting water boarded. 

Travis