NLK.SQUARESPACE.COM

The Summer Is Over!!!! THE BOOK IS COMING!!!

WELCOME BACK!!!

The book is almost complete and will be available ( HOPEFULLY) by October or the latest November via Amazon!!!!!

The move, almost complete. My house, still up for sale. My life, pretty damn good!

My job, well I'm damn lucky that I'm employed and make a nice amount of cash.

Oh, The KupMuff Show returns September 15th. http://www.kupmuff.net

Tune in there for details about my book, friend me on Facebook and like my various pages

See you soon and buy my book!

NLK

Posted on Sunday, September 12, 2010 at 09:16AM by

NLK |

2 Comments

Items Found

My Father was a packrat. I'm finding this out the hard way as I slowly make the move from my home and place it for sale.

He wasn't donkey-path packrat, mind you, however he kept such nonsense like old National Geographics to bottle caps and other worthless minutea that one would usually toss aside without even thinking twice.

However there are a few gems that the man did keep, such as old Atari games, Mason Jars, a couple of well-kept rifles, various tools and stained-glass windows...basically things that have value, either monetary or ascetically.

Who wants to see bare-breasted Kenyan women from the 1960's in magazines no less when there's something even more magical like INTERNET PORN!!

I rest my case.

I've found all sorts of interesting things, for instance my Father was a woodworker and made elaborate bowls and chalices, and when I use the 's' for plural I mean a shitload. Picasso had his Blue Phase, my Father had his bowl and chalice phase.

I mean he must have made them all to present to Christ upon his return to the Earth for there are so many it borders on either religious piety since few are as ostentatious to drink out a chalice or obession in that he wanted to make the right one for the Lord to drink his own blood from.

Plus a bowl to eat his candy out of.

Yet none of this was as strange, or as disturbing, as what David found while cleaning out a particular bedroom drawer the other evening.

David was cleaning out some drawers when he came upon my Father's nightstand. When he opened said nightstand the first thing that rolled right to the front was a bottle of KY Jelly.

Now my Dad has been single for, well he's deceased now, but at the time of his death had been single for 15 years. Neither of us ever saw him bring a lady home, and in the last years of his life he could barely breathe so I can't imagine that the bottle was current considering as well he was madly in love with my Mother.

So all of this leads to one thing and one thing only, a fact that no child wants to admit, nor hear nor see or even think of : My parents were freaks.

Posted on Wednesday, June 30, 2010 at 08:21PM by

NLK |

1 Comment

Books Are Heavy Man

I read alot. An awful lot. Everything from Shakespear and Voltaire to the back of the tube of toothpaste I will read anything I can get my hands on.

I've even read your diary:)

As you can imagine I've amassed quite the collection of books in my day: Stacked waist high in some places, bookshelves with nary a molecule of air between the books, so many books in fact that my friend, upon walking into my room exclaimed " Dude you're like a dumber, less successfull Good Will Hunting."

True dat.

One would think that with the advent of various new technologies like the Kindle and the IPad that I, with a worthless technology degree, would be at the vanguard of this revolution as an early adopter and forsaken the paper for the digital much way a pedophilic priest forsakes the sacred for the profane when he violates an innocent boy.

Nope, not even close. I can't see taking the Ipad out to the beach or to the park due to glare and the fact that I'm a clumsy man of Polish descent who only confirms the stereotype and therefore I would drop said Ipad or Kindle in the bay down the shore so I could share the works of Nick Flynn with the fish. To put it mildly, and as a contrarian, I loathe(ed) the idea all together and thought it intellectual heresey to even consider owning one.

There is also something comforting, something sacred about holding a book in your hands, to feel the paper as you turn the pages, to trace the words so as to not miss a single meaning, the ability to leave it in the bathroom, all of these things are the sum experience of what it is to read.

I'm in the stages of moving, packing up the various things I've accumulated and transporting them to another home, another place with rooms and shelves, nooks and crannies, bathrooms, and thus have the laborious task of moving all of the detritus one accumulates in thirty two years of living.

The other night as I was boxing up all the accrued knowledge that I've either skimmed, read over, glanced at, devoured, re-read and contemplated and placing all of these books in boxes then moving said boxes it occured to me as each box became heavier and heavier, the chances of these books being nothing more than space invaders, clogging up rooms and shelves, and as I arched over in pain like the guy in the Doan's Backpain Medicine commercial I turned to my brother and said " I really need to get a fucking Kindle."

Posted on Wednesday, June 23, 2010 at 07:39PM by

NLK |

1 Comment

Leave It To Aquaman

The Disaster in the Gulf of Mexico has been going on for almost a month now with no end in sight. Thousands, if not millions of barrells of oil are spewing from a broken well effecting everything from wildlife, the economy and the ability of fat southern women to get tans on the barrier islands along the Gulf Coast.

All of the measures employed to stop the leak, from burning off the oil to putting a cap on the well have failed worse than Lindsay Lohan taking a drug test. The situation is getting more desperate by the hour with no team of hard-on-their-luck oil drillers led by Bruce Willis or any other viable solution in sight.

The situation looks doomed, and I'm not talking about the fucktard with the blow-out and fake tan. Is there no hope?

We all know who can save us, we've seen him on cartoons, realized his worthless potential on land as the rest of his Justice League friends dealt with criminals who preferred dry land over the sea for reasons as obvious as that most of the population resides there and that let's face it, Lex Luther is more interested in taking over the White House not using Dolphins and Sea Urchins as weapons of mass destruction to control absolutely nothing in an age where the airplane has rendered sea travel secondary.

I'm talking about the man who looks like Ken from Barbie mated with a Starfish, a man who could summon the mighty beasts of the sea like Crabs and Shrimp to his aide and who's preferred mode of transportation is a Sea Horse.

A man who contributes little to the Superfriends who finally, at the hour of our worst ecological crisis, can show his worth as a Superhero.

So I ask you this: Where the fuck is Aquaman?

Posted on Thursday, June 17, 2010 at 09:14PM by

NLK |

2 Comments

I Want To Be A Token

Today its popular to have a diverse group of friends and especially in white culture is it more coveted to have an assortment of friends from different races, creeds genders and sexual preferences to not only say " Hey I'm tolerant and open-minded" but also to get into all the good clubs with the gays, be down with the homies and understand hip hop by having a black friend and that Indian friend who's religion you can co-opt when the religion of your upbringing fails you for the final time.

All of these friends form a Skittles Rainbow of friendship but in reality all they really are is Tokens. These Tokens, unlike Skittles, you cannot eat....well maybe, but not literally.

You know the phrase, you know the idea behind the word Token. South Park has a black kid named Token. If you don't understand the concept of a token then my friend you are beyond help and should return to your Monster Truck event then promptly kill yourself by gorging on Twinkies and Mountain Dew for you are the very reason Tokens exist. You hillbilly.

Growing up in a Middle-Class Blue-Collar neighborhood I was exposed to all sorts of cultures and do not feel this need to collect black friends like Pokemon cards. If you lived on the street, didn't smell and could catch a ball that's all that mattered. I learned at a very young age that regardless of color or creed or sexual orientation I could find other reasons to hate you. I'm not a racist, I'm just an equal opportunity hater and on a long enough timeline people will always prove themselves to be assholes regardless if they are brown, have an accent, smell like Curry and think the Cow is too sacred to turn into hamburger.

On television be it a sitcom or a reality series or in film, everyone covets a gay friend. Take the gay guy in Ugly Betty for instance. In the show 'Rules of Engagement' there's a token Indian guy who's culture, accent and perspective are mocked for laughs but in the end he's accepted and loved. 'Gary Unmarried' has Tim Meadows as the token black friend. This trend is alarming. It basically states that anyone not white, straight and Christian( or Jewish) is incapable of having a core group of friends so they must link up with white people. Cause we all know, white people, taking away all the cultural things they have pilfered from other races, are so rad.

This is bullshit. Other cultures are capable of forming their own peer and social groups and thus so are entitled to have tokens of their own.

I aim to be that token.

I wish to befriend a group of Indians, the ones with the dot not the feather, wearing jordache jeans, spouting Christian Psalms, talk about the Holy Trinity, avoid their cuisine and their Bollywood movies and speak in derision about their clothes, hairstyle and religion in a wry and sarcastic manner with the unique perspective of an outsider who is picked on for his strange ways but in the end is loved and respected for his whiteness and backwards-ass ways of thinking. I mean they might have countless Gods with the heads of Elephants and multi-arms but at least my God has ripped abs and the hair of Kip Winger.

I also hope to befriend a group of the most thuggiest, ruggest black men I can find. Not the black guys I grew up with, the responsible ones with jobs and families and responsibilities. Nope, I want to hang out with the ones who have multiple baby mommas as well as multiple pending felonies who's income is of a dubious and chemically-based origin. While they are rolling blunts and talking about busting caps at the Barbershop, I'll burst in wearing Dockers and loafers and talk about how I just had a great Panini at Panera Bread. They can teach me how to properly hold a Glock and how to dispose of a snitch and I can teach them how to balance a checkbook and how to tie an ascot.

Last and certainly not least I'll befriend a group of gay men and become their token straight guy cause its high time a group of gays had a straight man as their foil. If a Jersey Desperate Wife can have a gay man as a friend why can't Ricky Martin have a straight? They'll dress all nice and go out to brunch while I show up in sweatpants and a GI Joe t-shirt. While they drink Cosmos and talk about fashion and gossip I'll drink Bud light and chime in with stories about last night's hockey game making everyone feel awkward and weird until they make fun of my barbaric nature as I squeeze the ass of the waitress. I'll talk about how much I like to eat pussy and they'll sit around wishing they had pussies while I teach them how to not shave their bodies, lay around on the couch eating funyuns instead of working out and all the intricate workings of the West Coast offense and in the end we'll both be better for our mutual cultural exchange.

So if you'll excuse me I have some ads to post on Craigslist. My new thug/gay/Hindu friends are waiting.

Posted on Tuesday, June 15, 2010 at 07:33PM by

NLK |

1 Comment