Heartwarming Poem

Twilight is easy to make fun of, at the same time, there are times where the fans do something so cute that I don't even have the heart to critique Stephanie Meyer (which I LOVE). Here is a poem I made from a posting the day I realized that maybe Twilight was not so terrible after all. It is called:

 

Confident

 

Hey

Just watched

Twilight

at the thetre

 

And i cried

everytime

bella was

in trouble

So

 

Just wanted to say

Rob

You are

One of a kind man

 

And your

the greatest man

ive ever

laid eyes on

 

And you and bella

are the greatest

people in the

world

 

Because of bella

i can be

confident

in my school

 

so

thank you

 

 

Poem time!

I found this little beauty somewhere. Either that or I was inspired by the fandom to write something in honor of them. Or I could secretly be in love with R-Patz...You decide. This one is called:

I (gasp) Love Rob

Swoon

I respect

Rob's

Swoon, Swoon

 talent,

Swoon

bone structure,

Swooooon, swoon, swoon

 and complexion.

Swooooooon

It would

Swoon,

be amazing

Swoooon

to

swoon

be

swoon

so

swoon

beautiful!

swoon

robert....

swoon

ur too hot!!

Swoon swoon swoon

Swooooooooooon

Swoon swoon

Swoooooon

swoooooooooooooooon

Note: I believe I just added some of the "swoons" but I wrote it almost a year ago. Anyway, it is my gift to you. If you would like to recite it to a friend, feel free. Love, Buzzsaw.

This bio could be yours!

I was honored when I was asked to write an artist bio for my good friend, M. Kyle Moseby. He has a photography exhibit, so I wrote four pieces I thought he could use. I was pleasantly surprised that he shared it with a couple other friends. One of whom was kind enough to write a little note that said very nice things! So here are the bios! Imagine, if you are nice to me, they could be yours!

Artist Bio! When it comes down to it, there are few people in the world who can stand up to M. Kyle Moseby in the ring. He has a wicked right hook, and an uppercut that will make Cassius Clay reconsider his career choices. He is also hell on wheels with a camera. Remember the WTO riots? It was his idea. He wanted some good photo ops, so a riot ensued. Think about a beautiful sunset. Do you think it would exist without the gentle prodding of a one M. Kyle Moseby? Ha! Of course not. That is because Mr. Moseby is a man of action. He is also brimming with masculinity and poise. Please enjoy his latest creations. It will be apparent to even the most inexperienced viewer that they are going on a tour, with a master tour guide. Mr. Moseby has been around the world so many times that the world got tired and had to take a break. This is why it stopped spinning in the summer of 2006 and just started spinning again last month! So please enjoy the photos, it is his pleasure to thrill you with wonders unknown. Once again, I would like to introduce the man, who truly needs no introduction. M. Kyle Moseby.

Artist Bio? Wrestling with a pack of wolves? A simple task! Stealing bear cubs from a watchful mother? Childs play! These are the things that M. Kyle Moseby will do before breakfast. Just to make sure that he is awake! A man of the world. A dog owner. Photographer of great renown and musical wunderkind. The man is a raging bull behind the camera, and as debonair as an aristocrat in front of it. It gives me great pleasure to introduce his latest work, framed with elegance, and shot with the gritty awareness of an East Memphis pimp. These photo’s will grab you like a Doberman with lockjaw, only letting go when they have severed your arm from your bloody stump of a shoulder! So please do not touch!  That is not to say that Mr. Moseby has any difficulty shooting pictures of children. He has created photo scenarios which have given Anne Geddes fits of jealous rage because the kids looked so adorable. He is also unafraid of a glamour shot. There are at least 12 sexy firefighter calendars which bear his nom de plum, and I hear tell of another in the works. He is a man who is unafraid to bear all, and he uncovers his very soul with his photography! Ladies and gentlemen, M. Kyle Moseby!

Artist Bio: If I were to truly write a bio for M. Kyle Moseby, it would have to be nice and short. Why? Because if that were the case Mr. Moseby and myself would have much better things to do than read the damn thing. We would much rather make history, not to mention cause women to swoon! And swoon they will, when they take a look at these here photographs! “He is soooo sexy!” “Did you see his rippling biceps?” “His rough beard and torn jeans are a sight for sore eyes. Too bad I’m legally blind. I guess I will have to go with Braille!” And the list goes on. Don Juan. Casanova. Myself. M. Kyle Moseby. If you miss the opportunity to buy one of these pieces, you’re an idiot. This is the man all the waitresses are praying will stiff them. But I am sure they will settle for just getting shafted. So don't test your fate, go take a look-see!

Artist Bio: Lloyd’s of London won’t even insure this man. They know the cocksure strut, they know the devil-may-care look of his piercing glance. And they know that if they got their hands on him, they would be hell bent for leather not to let go! But how can you fence in a hurricane? How can you tame a roaring dragon? Something’s are best meant to roam free. Such is the case with M. Kyle Moseby. Covering the length of our country on foot with nothing but a camera, a box of rubbers, and the striking resemblance to a Norse god, he is a force to be reckoned with. He has been to jail. Multiple times. He has spent countless hours behind the decks in the hippest clubs in town. Yet he counts among his friends such notables as Brian McClaren (though he did lambaste B-Mac’s music, and slap him in the face with a cod)! So look, lurk, while you have the chance!

I could use a laugh! (part II, I could still use a laugh!)

I thank my gentle reader for taking the time to read not only one story but two. In telling a good tale, sometimes the characters involved are complex and it justifies the storyteller explaining them in greater detail. The second half of our story takes place at Mt. Hermon conference center just like the first. It was towards the end of the summer and my friend Aaron and I were on garbage detail.

What this consisted of was two fold. First in the morning the garbage team would take a rolling grey bin around to the various trash cans on the commons area, removing the bags from the cans, placing them in the bin, and replacing the liner. When the bin was full we took it to a large walk-in refrigerator beneath the dining facility. The refrigerator was called the "bull pen". When this was done the two custodians would ride around the hills of the camp on the trash truck, driven by the infamous Bob Verbeek.

At the end of the run, Bob would back the truck down the hill and so it was right outside the bay door to the bull pen. It was the worst part of the day. This was due to the other contents of the bull pen. Aside from the garbage we tossed it held all the food waste generated from the meals of 600 plus guests! The food from all the dining tables was scraped off and collected and put into cans on rolling dollies. These were called "pig food" because at one time a farmer used to collect the waste and use it. The buckets could weigh over 100 pounds easily. It is not difficult to conclude that emptying the bull pen was our least favorite task. Partially due to the association with Bob Verbeek, but mostly from the pig food.

In the morning while the sun is shining, the horrors of the bull pen are pushed aside and we could laugh about life. As we walked around emptying cans we joked about Bob Verbeek and his unique views on life, laughing about his claims to be the "best mopper on the crew". But as we got to the end of our route we were brought back to reality by evidence that some kind of four legged critter had been into the cans. There were several cans that had refuse strewn about, and we finally found what must have been the mother lode. It just so happened that it was the last can of the route.

While we loaded the bag we realized without doubt that it was indeed a skunk who had invaded our realm. In fact the scent was so pervasive that I joked that the skunk was "probably in the bag" We laughed it off and rolled towards the bull pen. After we dumped our load, the offending bag actually grew to be very offensive indeed. When we got upstairs we could still smell it, and we laughed about the poor suckers who were left to suffer.

We did the trash route without any major hitches, and I am sure that we took some time to surf on the roof of the truck. It was our way, it was our passion. The bag of smelly garbage was all but forgotten when we backed down to the bull pen. But when we opened the door the scent still lingered. So we started pulling trash out and throwing it in the truck, trying to go as fast as we could. Unfortunately as we got further and further down in the pile it got so bad that both of us refused to throw anymore trash. So Bob Verbeek tucked his nose into his shirt and started going pulling trash like he was the last trashman on earth!

By now a bit of a crowd was starting to gather. The chief chef was there standing 6'4" in his full chef regalia. My good friend Jason a cook was eyeing us and laughing, and I am sure several of the Mexican guys were hiding behind him. The smell was so strong eyes were watering. Bob's moves were a blur. Then suddenly it happened. I saw a movement of black and white. Then the burgundy shirt and tanned face of Bob Verbeek. The door was slammed and Bob was on his radio to the boss! "Bob. Tom. Skunk in the bull pen! Skunk in the bull pen! Bob. Tom. Skunk in the bull pen!" This call went out on the radio to the entire staff. The entire staff must have died with their collective laughter!

The situation was growing now. Eyes were popping out from cracks in doors. We were in the thick of the action! The chef got involved. He even volunteered some of his men to help us construct a wall. We used the garbage cans to create a walkway so that our black and white friend would be forced to leave the premises. Bob, now courageous was saying that if you pick a skunk up directly by the tail that it cannot spray you. I suggested that he try it!

When the wall was constructed the plan was hatched. Bob Verbeek ran to the door of the bull pen, opened the latch and ran back. The skunk, dazed by the activity and from overeating, waddled into the room. It tried to get through the garbage can wall, but gave up and turned toward the door. At this point I was up on the exterior stairs watching with Jason and Aaron from a safe distance. Bob was armed with a garden hose. The skunk waddled out the bay door and turned towards the woods, at which point Bob sprayed him. The skunk skittered off, content and full. When the wild beast was forty feet away, Bob Verbeek grabbed a pair of leather gloves and gave chase, slapping the gloves together yelling, "And stay out!"

To summarize the aftermath, I think we gained respect for Bob Verbeek because he stayed in the bull pen after we all left. Yes, we respected him, but the story would forever be linked to one rallying cry: "Bob. Tom. Skunk in the bull pen! Skunk in the bull pen! Bob. Tom. Skunk in the bull pen!"

Blessing: May BobVerbeek and that skunk live long, and never have to smell each other!

I could use a laugh! (Part 1)

I am trying to think of a classic story to make me forget the rain and my jobless situation. No, I will not complain, I won concert tickets today! So just when you think that life is giving you lemonade, and you really don't like lemonade, call a radio station and win something! Well I thought of a strange and funny tale to warm your heart and mine.

It was back in 1998 and I was working in Santa Cruz. Not that I hated Seattle, but I really did not miss it. I got a job as one of the custodians of Mt Hermon Christian Conference Center, a huge complex of three camps in the Santa Cruz hills. Just as a starting point the area is beautiful. The hills are the same ones that John Steinbeck walked in the early part of the century. The redwoods are tall and silent, except in the winter when the wind roars through their branches. The ground is soft with the layers formed over the course of many lifetimes. They deaden the sound of footsteps, and you can feel the silence. Then some stupid kid starts yelling, and your peace is broken. Especially if they are members of the Dutch Reformed Church, in which case they will bring several thousand water balloons. These they throw constantly with little regard to the custodian charged with retrieval of spent balloons.

This tale does not involve the Dutch though. Unless of course you mistake the surname Verbeek to be Dutch instead of German. The name is attached to another name, the not so fancy sounding Bob. Bob Verbeek was one of the full time custodians, he was mean, proud, ands sometimes bought us drinks at the soda fountain. He was one hell of a complex individual. He was a racist, a hippie, and also a liar of prodigious stature. There were some stories he told that we totally disbelieved, and there were some that seemed plausible. In one stirring adventure he was the back gate keeper at a Canned Heat concert at the Cabrillo College football field. He proudly told us how he wouldn't let the band in because they did not have their ID's! He was fired from that job. It is stories such as this which caused me begin to think it might actually be true. Why would you lie about how you were really dumb? So the legend grew. But let me set the scene.

Bob Verbeek was about 5'10". He was scrawny with a dirty blond pony tail, saggy eyes and a constant odor that was a blend of patchouli and stale cigarettes. His teeth were a wonder of their own. His front two teeth on top were tilted together like a shovel, and they were all quite yellow. One of his main skills was bragging. He could brag about any topic that came up in conversation. If it were the custodial arts he would brag about how he was the only staff member who set up chairs correctly (he went to a conference on it!). If you were stupid enough to talk about girls he might mention the fact that he had been in adult films and was a nudist, which caused all who heard to cringe! Even the words that he pronounced correctly were vastly outnumbered by the ones he mispronounced! Vortex was Voytex, core-less toilet paper was cordless (it did not have the cardboard cord!)! He was grouchy to most people, tolerant of some. No matter what, he never ceased to be a mystery though I knew him for years.

Bob Verbeek was loud. stopping his conversations to pull the rubber band out of his ponytail, and vainly rearrange it, oblivious to the fact that his hair was thinning on top. He would cackle when he saw a pretty girl walk by, unconcerned that she was more than half his age. Sometimes commenting "Praise God for his creation", which caused the few women we told to shudder without fail. But at least Bob Verbeek  was saved, I think he told me that he introduced Billy Graham to Christ, and sang in th church choir. Sadly, but unsurprisingly, it seems that Bob always had a lot more enemies than friends. It was mysterious to all of us why he was not fired. Then we rode on the trash truck.

Bob was the driver. The caretaker. We joked that he slept in it. To this day I would not be surprised if that were true. It was an old white Heiler I christened "Moby Dick". No matter how many bad things people could say about Bob, I have never met anyone who could back that truck into the places he could. There was a childcare center at the conference center, and when Bob backed Moby in, there were probably 2 inches available on either side of the truck. The redwoods were scarred from his misses, but I have never seen anyone drive like that. Even after he was finally fired the other drivers would stop and walk to get the trash from the childcare, but not Bob Verbeek.

That summer the crew consisted of myself, and four others: Matt, Aaron, Timmy (Monkeyfingers), and the legendary Richard Reavis (I must save him for another time). We all got along fairly well. It was fun, we were 19 and the weather was good. Some of us surfed, some played ping-pong, some guitar. All in all we had a good job and were not at home. Life was good. For the most part we tolerated Bob, but we were all glad when we got to work with Walter or Nathan instead. Riding on the trash truck was OK because you didn't have to talk to him. So we were all getting through the summer fine. And that is when Timmy snapped.

Timmy had some problems with anger management, he freaked out on me once, but we worked it out. Then one day at dinner I met up with the guys and heard that Bob and Timmy had got into a wrestling match! I guess they were cleaning up the dining room when all hell broke loose. It had started as play fighting but they both got out of hand and it turned into a fight. For a few weeks Timmy refused to work with Bob. Essentially screwing everybody! The whole battle escalated when Timmy wrote "Bob Verbeek has horse teeth" with ketchup in the loading zone of camp! Our boss Tom must have thought it humorous because Timmy did not get much of a punishment.

Somehow though, over the course of the summer, we went from hating Bob, back to liking him. Do not ask me how. He was such a prolific liar, that even the things we could prove true were doubted! According to Bob he had done everything from Roller Derby to driving the bus for The Grateful Dead. The only thing we did not doubt was that he was a good bowler. He had a trophy in the window of his room, which happened to be in the maintenance yard. So one night towards the end of the summer, on a day we did not hate him. We all took Bob bowling. Of course he destroyed us. Suddenly a guy in his 30's walked up. "Are you Bob Verbeek?" "Yeah" "You used to teach me roller skating!" It was such a shock. At that moment I realized the good and bad news, IT WAS ALL TRUE!

To be continued...

Celebridentified, again.

It is not a bad thing to have people regularly say that you look like a celebrity. But it can catch you off guard if it is a celebrity you have never heard of. After all these years it should be easier to deal with. but it is always strange. The reason I bring this up is that I was told on Friday that I looked like Jack Nance who was the title character in the movie Eraserhead. I have heard a lot of different names, but that was the first time for Nance. On the surface I was nonchalant, but I was sort of tense inside, waiting for another name to come up. It never did, and I was relieved.

The first time I was "celeb-dentified" was in 7th grade. It was my first year in public school. For all the parents reading this, if you want to mess up your kids, please home school them! For me the experience of school was scary and awkward. It seems like I always felt that I did not belong. Because of this I think I made a lot less friends than I would have if I operated with the understanding that nobody in 7th grade feels like they belong. But I was shy for the most part, and very awkward with girls. It must have been during the second half of the year when some of the girls started talking to me. "Hey Thomas J." I was a little surprised, but I asked what that was about they told me there was a character in some show who looked like me. His name was Thomas Jay. That should probably have been seen as a compliment, but it only made me more uncomfortable. This could have been because I was trying to establish my own identity, or it could have been that the girls made me nervous. Either way, I did not like being called Thomas J. To this day I have no idea which show it was. I am sure that the girls thought it was good that we looked alike. I bet we did. Still I was glad when the show was canceled. It would be ten years before I was in the look-alike business again.

This time I was in school at Central Washington University. I was hanging out with some friends. A couple of girls came over, which was very nice. As tech ed majors, we had no women in our major. The only woman in a class with us was an engineer and very annoying. During the course of the evening, the girls mentioned that I looked like John Mayer. Even though it had been so long, I still remembered how I felt in 7th grade. This time I was able to deal with it. Except for the fact that John Mayer has such a bad reputation among the musicians I hang with. He is popular with girls, but really most men don't like him. Since I had my musical identity already I was not worried, but to be honest, I probably should have asked the girls on a date! Instead I spent the next 7 years playing music and making sure I did not sound like John Mayer!

Obviously, I am telling these stories and avoiding the elephant in the room. The Twilight guy. Edward. Sparkles. R-Patz. Robert Pattinson. So there you have it. People say we look alike as well. but the funny thing is all the other celebs I have been celeb-dentified with along the way: Vince Vaughn, Willem Dafoe, Hugh Grant, one of the two main guys from Avatar, Aiden Quinn, and I must be forgetting some. It happens often, but without enough regularity that I can expect it. Thus I am always looking around a bit suspiciously, and I have taken to wearing hoods. I was doing just such last Wednesday, when my old pal coach Les (the one who gave me the name "Buzzsaw) said "You look like Obi Wan Kenobi"!  So that is the life of the celeb-dentified. And just so you know, it does not pay that well!

Twidentified:Eclipse Premier

At this point I was all Tom Petty.

6/24/2010 US 1, Pacific Coast Highway

It is the big day. There is no telling what will happen. I am driving, that has become the company policy, at least for the most part. Yesterday I made Lando drive from Hollywood Blvd to Downtown LA. There was no way I was going to drive in full vampire costume. To be honest I am shocked that I had been standing out in front of The Chinese Theater at all. Standing on the street long enough to make $1 was probably the most humiliating “job” I have ever had. Well that was yesterday. It proved what I already knew. For some reason, thousands of people think that I look just like a new Hollywood superstar.  If they only knew the truth. If they only knew how hard I have been driving and living.  None of these people would understand the smoke and fire of the welding shop where I made the money for the video camera we named “Spike Lee”. Oh well, they just might find out someday.

We left the mansion in Malibu early that day. All the young opera singers and classical musicians were still waking up. It was an important morning, time for the road dogs to move. So here we were, Lando and I, and Tom Petty. Petty had become our soundtrack. Anyone who has driven more than 12 hours solo will understand the connection between road music and moving. When highway lines are getting blurry and there are still 250 miles left to go those songs are what carry you through. Of course I have friends that say God does it. Well I believe in heavenly assistance, but when driving I put my faith in Rock and Roll.

As we were driving up to Santa Monica I was shocked to hear my phone ring. Not that it was unheard of but I had not been getting many calls with my new phone. I saw that it was my mother, and though I did not want to answer it, somehow I knew it was important. It was a very short conversation. “Nicole was in an accident. Samantha was killed” I heard what was said. Nothing I could do about it. My cousin was alive. Her four year old daughter was dead. It had only been about 18 months that Nicole had full custody of her daughter. I could have cried. Sometimes you make a choice. I told Lando. Then I lit a cigarette. I guess you know sometimes that you aren’t going to quit smoking that day. Then I focused on the music and the task at hand. “All the vampires walkin’ through the valley, move west down Ventura Boulevard…”

For better or worse, there are times when you have to wait to express your grief. This was one of them. We were on our way to the premier of Twilight:Eclipse, and even though I did not really care about the movie, I knew it was going to change our lives in a way. We had been to the Nokia Theater the last two days, so we knew where we were going. Yesterday I had found myself in the middle of a mob of women young and old. My rough estimate is that I posed for about 300 pictures in a one hour period. Funny that the $1 I made in Hollywood is more money than I made with all those fans! So wearing a Johnny Cash tee shirt, with my blue jeans on, I wheeled the Tahoe up Santa Monica Blvd. We had to find Lando some decent paparazzi pants. There is plenty of time for tears. If I play my cards right, if I hold off long enough maybe another tragedy will strike and I can double up. Sometimes that is nice. But today I have to go find me some movie stars.

Later in the day this happened. No matter how you look at it, that's strange!

Answering hatemail!

Dear readers, I am sorry to inform you about the incredible volume of hate mail I have been receiving for the last 6 hours! In fact it is astounding because I had no idea that 300 passionate people even read The Buzzsaw Report! It seems fantastical, even a little bit scary, but yes, some obviously very talented, and enraged readers have been at my throat all day! In retrospect it makes sense, the fact that I was rollerblading in a Power Ranger outfit was too much for some of you. "It sickens me that you would cavort and catcall like some kind of nerd pervert, or should I say NerdVert!", I'm sorry Denise, I'm sorry. It really is no wonder, my readers have told me before that the idea alone is disgusting. "You make me puke!" said Lucinda, of Walnut CA, "If I was driving with my kids, I would have them throw their Capri Sun's at you! Creep!" OK, I think I get the picture, but can't a grown man have a little fun? Apparently not says Justine from Yelm WA. According to her, and I will paraphrase, she would rather roll around in feces than even look at a picture of the Green Power Ranger! Rough one Buzzman, better luck next time! "You think just because your hella hott that you can get girls by being a disgusting ass?" says DeShonda, "You actin' tha' fool, but I don't want none of that!" It seems that maybe a new strategy for exercise is needed. It was not just the disturbing quality of someone zipping around making lurid catcalls that angered people. Some were just plain mean. "I hate to tell you, but Power Rangers are just generally stupid. It was a bad show. It isn't funny that you claimed to dress like one, just lame. You sound like a pathetic loser. Get a life. I can't believe I wasted time reading this junk! At least the name is good, The BS Report. It is nothing but BS!" So I think I am starting to get the picture, but wait, it gets worse! "I know you are my son, but your writing is so bad that I would rather read brochures for adult diapers than this rubbish" Alright, who told my mom about this? I didn't tell your mom how to create fake facebook accounts so she could become your friend and intrude on your life! Creatively, I think I have had some successes with my writing, but maybe not according to Jay "You sound like a snob who is stretching for any kind of pop culture reference in a vain attempt to sound interesting. And by the way, Power Rangers never had capes. Moron!" And that dear readers was just the first 12 responses! Let me tell you, it got worse WAY before it got better! There were over 175 complaints about the Power Rangers with capes alone. I guess I should do my research before I try and dress up like someone. Well the long and the short of it is, that I think I got a taste of my own medicine, and it might be time to call it quits. So here you are, in finality, I bid you adieu, Buzzsaw

PS- I just wanted to clear the air and say that I was just goofing around when I wrote that Power Ranger piece, I guess I should have taken more time. I am sorry. You will never have to worry about it again.

Underwear on the outside!

I don't know why, but it feels like one of the days to just let loose. Call me crazy, but I kind of feel like wearing a Power Ranger suit and roller blading. Roller blading fast and serious, hands behind my back. Something about the Power Ranger suit seems like it would make you feel invincible. It should be fairly obvious by now that I did actually buy such a suit, and am in fact wearing it. It is the green Ranger outfit, I like blue the best, but I also like green, so I switched it up. It is my plan to get my blades out, and zip around the local bike trails hitting on women with impunity. There are sure to be outcries and denouncements at this point. So go ahead, tell me Power Rangers aren't sexy. But we all know that sexy is not what gets the women half the time, so I am just going to do a mass attack. If I just cruise like mad, I am sure to get a bite. To be totally honest the type of women who would go for a roller blading Power Ranger are bound to be fun to hang out with. I don't know why I get these crazy urges, but I felt it was something that I should go with. Just like Dolly Parton, who says she always goes with her gut instinct, it is time to stand up for what I believe in! Just like the people who wear their underwear on the outside, or the guys with the combover. Everybody seems to think the combover guys don't know they are bald, but I am pretty sure they do. Just like I am pretty sure I will make some people angry and some people happy this afternoon. In my heart  of hearts I am not totally sure that most people reading this are jealous! Why? Because I am brave enough to follow my dreams. Some people will get excited, some angry, I don't care, and maybe what my dream is today will not be tomorrow, but at least I am going to do it. Sometimes people ask why I do things, such as play music, simple, to stop is to die. I am like a fish, I must keep moving so I can survive. So today, I blade! It is important to me that you know what I will be wearing safety wise, so here is the list: Helmet, wrist braces, knee pads, elbow pads, Power Ranger suit, cape included. OK I have to go, so I hope you do something today that makes you feel alive, I know I do!

Secret information from my future book!

I am tired. I admit it, but I felt that I needed to do something to keep The Buzzsaw report humming along. I have been working on filling out resumes and looking at job applications and advertisements all day, so I decided to take the lazy way out and post one of the poems I was writing last winter. When I decided to take seriously the fact the Robert Pattinson and I look so much alike, needless to say I was stressed. I could so easily look like a moron trying to "be" somebody else or "act like Edward" (please shoot me if this is the case). As I am already an artist and musician, I did not want to be stuck getting compared to some guy I had never met. So I worked like crazy trying to figure out what to do! From the very start I knew I wanted to be funny, the whole situation was, and continues to be funny. So I wrote a comedy screenplay called "My Name is Not Edward" and based it loosely on my life using my funniest friends as characters. I think it would have been hilarious, yet impossible to pull off, so I am glad I pulled the plug after one day of attempted shooting (It was May). The poems I wrote first as a way to be funny and brainstorm, then we decided they were funny enough to include.

When I started writing, I was researching like a fiend, having never read Twilight or even known anything about it. During the course of this research, and it did not take long, I decided that it would only be fitting if I were to write poetry about Robert Pattinson. I would then perform it as him, as if the actual guy sits around writing gushing poems about himself. Our original idea was to film it like I was onstage at a coffee shop and use it sort of like Seinfeld, where he started/finished episodes with stand-up. Well I wrote a lot of poems, and we actually filmed one night, but for the most part they have been locked in my desktop computer "Samuel Langhorn Clemens", that is, until tonight! I was pleasantly surprised that I only had to look at three of the 30+ pieces to find on which is fitting! This piece is titled, Adult Robsession, it is dedicated to the "older and bolder", here it is:

Adult Robsession

I am

A sensible

Adult and

Though I am

Married,

I dream to be

A peacoat

Draped over Rob's

Perfectly muscled

Chest

My true

Actual, real

Hubby

Says he won't

Leave me

Though obsession

Has given way,

To stalking

And credit card debt,

A few

Months ago

I left home

My kids and man

To go

To

Forks WA

And find a man

That sparkled

It was sooo

HOT

Also I have,

A job as,

A CEO

And play

Farmville

On Facebook

Note: This is not about a real person in any way! It was written well before I ever went to Forks, or even got a Facebook account. It is meant to be a joke, I based many of these poems off of comments and message boards, so if you feel like it is about you, or making fun of you, please, get the help you need, go to, www.waytoorobsessed.org believe me, they know what you are going through!

Dear Twihards, a little help, because I care!

My Dearest Twihards, I am pained to disclose to you the following information. Edward does not love you. He is obsessed with Bella Swan, it is fairly obvious from the text. In fact it is painfully apparent from the movie, as well as the book. Remember the scene when Edward and Bella were in science class, and R-Patz made the "oops I just pooed face"? Well I am sure that K-Stew does. Well what they were trying to show was not that K-Stew smelled like moldy stew, but that she was so desirable that R-Patz/Edward was losing bowel control due to her savory odor. Now many of you Twilighters might say well I prefer a man with a nice body, not a pasty white snob who is constantly reciting Shakespeare just to rub it in the face of those who might graduate high school, or even get their GED. Yes their are those out there who prefer Jacob Black, and even Taylor Lautner, though I hardly ever hear anyone mention the "book Jacob". I am sorry my friend, but throughout the entire first three books and at least  half of the fourth, Jacob is also OBSESSED WITH BELLA SWAN! Which means, loosely translated, that until he gets obsessed with Bella and Edwards half vampire baby, he is also not interested in you. Now the reason /i am telling you this is not to be a jerk and rain on your parade. No, I like Twihards, they have been very nice to me. The reason mainly is to just be a jerk. I wouldn't want to rain on anyones parade, I like parades too much. Now if I were just going to be a jerk the whole time, and offer no solutions, then what good am I? No I am here to help. First lets talk Edward. Number one, do not try and lure Edward in by wearing a picture of him on your shirt, vest, tote, car, phone, or as your facebook profile pic. To begin with, if he is a gentleman, as they say, he will be greatly embarrassed by this display. In fact, I would advise those who are Team Edward to remove all Twilight items from their house as well. We all know that Edward has a little problem with stalking, so I would get rid of them for this reason alone. Also if a friend comes over and is totally wanting a piece of old Sparklybottoms, it is best if she not know that you are in the game at all. Ladies I know how jealous you get, I am trying to look out for you! That said, if you are going to Forks do not go into Twilight stores, this is for the same reason, but in Forks it is very crucial because Edward lives there, he might see you. If I were going to Forks in search of Edward, I would probably stick to the woods, then at night perhaps go to the bowling alley, or the teen center. I think that they have chess boards at the teen center so it is a good starting point. Lastly if you wait in the library you might see him too. I don't think he would be at the chainsaw store, but it is still really cool, so check it out. In fact that is a place you might run into Jacob. During my time in Forks and La Push I did not see any Quielleutte's with anything approaching "six-pack abs", this is not important. What is more important is to get Renesmee out of the way as quickly as possible. This will be difficult. In fact it will be hard that I recommend that all twihards simply go to one of the following websites: http://www.gettingridofrenesmee.com/ http://www.ihatethatdamnrenesmeeshestolemyman.com/ http://www.deathtorenesmeebutiwantbothjacobandedwardanddeathtobella.com/ I am sure they will be of great use in your conquest. Cheers, happy hunting, and don't say that I don't look out for you! Buzzsaw

postscript: I apologize to non-twihards, if you want to understand this piece better, read the summary of the Twilight saga on wikipedia. Or skip this one!

Tattoo or not tattoo?

For some reason, whenever I have a difficult choice to make in life, I feel like it is a good idea to ask others for their opinions. I do this for several reasons, first, even if I have already decided what to do, I know that there are certain people who would be offended if I made any kind of decision without asking. So in those cases I ask for advice and pretend to listen attentively, not that I care what they are saying, but I want to make them think that their opinion matters. Second, if I do something, and someone else advised me to do it, even though it is my choice, I can still kind of blame them. Or at least guilt them into buying the occasional lunch. The latter is the case with the antique anchor that I bought this summer at the urging of my business partner Lando (who for some odd reason has all but disappeared but we can look into that another time). What I am getting at, is that when faced with a tough choice, it seems only logical to go to a website like criagslist.org, and post something such as this:

Do I take the tattoo plunge? - m4w - 29 (Escondido)

---

Date: 2010-10-17, 3:52PM PDT
I'm coming up on my 30th birthday in just under a week. For YEARS, I have been fascinated by tattoos. So, here I am approaching my 30th birthday, and am debating taking the tattoo plunge. Thus far, I've remained unmarked, but I'd like to do something significant for myself for my 30th.

So, what do you ladies think... to tattoo or not to tattoo? Opinions? What do you're dating someone and find out that they have a tattoo, is that a plus, a minus, or neither? Any opinions???

Anyone want to come with??
One thing I know about the internet as a whole, is that people are largely honest and caring while online. It is a little thing called "netiquite", it is something the majority of people practice. Knowing this it is totally valid to put something like this out there. Doing this you won't have to deal with the people you know, they are the ones who have all the hang-ups anyway! And the cool thing about asking strangers is that they will go with their gut instinct. They will do this, yet take time to taylor their response to you! They aren't going to make some crude comment, then log out. They wouldn't send you to a bad tattoo parlor! Come to think of it they might even want a new tattoo too! I have a firm belief in cyberspace, and I also trust 98% of the people who use it. I find it humorous that certain people are always talking about "being wary" and "not giving out personal information" or "credit card information", in my humble opinion, these people are prudes! What they aren't saying is that the internet is not something you can just "get onto", it takes brains, and years, sometimes decades of study in order to become a fully professional web user. I highly doubt that ANYONE would want to jeopardizee their internet privileges by "goofing" or "fooling" around! Highly UNLIKELY! So would I get a tattoo if people responded in the positive, you bet! On top of that, I would get whatever tattoo they suggested, wherever they suggested! That is how much I trust my fellow man! I am worked into a lather, and I am leaving, sayonara, Buzzsaw!

Note: As mentioned the author is serious about getting a tattoo if it is suggested by readers. So if you are interested in this, send your comments to: robertpattersonactor@gmail!

These things make me feel normal!

I thought I might swing up to New Hampshire and see what is going on as far as Craigslist postings. This time I went to "Romantic connections". say what you will about my suppressed needs, I am not worried, I will find you r posting and write about it! Well I found a few that I liked, but for some reason the following popped out at me:

Answered your ad... "The Secretary"... - m4w - 43 (55 min away)

---

Date: 2010-09-06, 2:06PM  Been a long time..... I think about you often.... wondering if you're still pissed...... it would be nice if you could drop me a one word response, just so I knew....

It is a short and somewhat sad little post. The disturbing part is that all the spelling is correct. Other than the use of multiple ellipses, I really can't find anything technically wrong with it. The reason I find it scarier is that a crazy/psycho smart person can be a lot more of one of similar mental stability with less mental capacity. When I looked closely at it, I found evidence of not only one, but two totally crazy people. Crazy Person A, is whatever lunatic wrote "The Secretary" M4W, 43 (55 minutes away) in the first place. Crazy Person B, is whoever answered it. Obviously this is a note from Crazy person B trying to figure out if A is "still pissed", after some unnamed and assuredly disturbing event occurred. Even after spending the last week or so examining these posts, I am more than a little glad that I am only seeing it from this perspective. On the other hand it might be worse trying to imagine what "The Secretary" is supposed to mean. That said, maybe "The Secretary" is not it. Maybe it is the "55 minutes away"! Perhaps this person has a clock fetish. one of the craziest people I have ever met was a clock dealer. I guess he had a whole house entirely filled with different kinds of coo-coo clocks! Dah! Well apparently these two met up for "The Secretary", and something occurred that was so bad that the whole thing caved like a deck of cards. It was probably some that A wanted to be called, then at the end after it was all over, B forgot and called him by his real name, ruining the fantasy. The only other thing which comes to mind is The Kinks song "Lola"! Well I hope that was as good for you as it was for me! Buzzsaw

Postscript: It turns out that Buzzsaw's good friend Marty Letterman was able to fill him in on the whole thing. It turns out that Buzzsaw was incorrect about the whole thing. Marty said that actually the whole thing was great and that the second posting was a part of the role playing he was engaged in. Buzzsaw is now terrified of his former friend Marty Letterman.

Bob Dylan is a TERRIBLE harmonica player!

I am sitting around listening to Bob Dylan and frittering my time away. Is this normal? I don't know why, but I felt inspired to say a few words about the most prolific songwriter in the world. Actually there could be someone out there who has written more, but I find it hard to believe. It seems like old man Dylan actually wrote every song. I don't even know if they had songs before he came along. In fact that was not the first thing I wanted to talk about. What inspired me was his voice. I understand how people can hate his singing. I think that his voice matches his songs perfectly. On a lot of songs, especially those influenced by the blues, I think he does the best versions. At the same time it makes a lot of sense that people despise his nasally singing. The thing that I find amazing is that people actually think that he is playing his harmonicas! I guess that makes sense, if blowing and drawing as fast as you can is playing than so be it. But for all the time he has spent playing with world class musicians I would think that Bob would at least try to play well. He claims that Little Walter taught him how to play, and I am guessing that he failed his class. Little Walter is a legend of the blues, Bod Dylan is a terrible, and world famous "harmonica player". He makes noise, and that is all. It is so atrocious that I have been forced to fast forward through some of his more lengthy "solos" so I can get to his music and lyrics. Since I play harmonica, and yes, I am far better than Bob, I have to talk to people about him quite often. Since most people have no idea how to play a harmonica well, it is typical to have this conversation "Oh you play guitar and harmonica at the same time? Like Bob Dylan?" Usually I can switch quickly to talk about Neil Young or someone else who is actually good at it, but I have gotten into a few arguments from which there is no escaping. Many times people can't understand how I can like Bob Dylan (probably more than they do actually!) yet despise his "playing". I don't like trying to "convince" them that I have studied and played the harmonica for 12 years, and am in demand as a player. That just seems rude and arrogant. But at the same time it is true. The simple fact is that I know a lot more about that particular than a lot of people. I also know a lot less about it than a lot of people. When I took lessons from Seattle blues legend Grant Dermody, I got schooled. Every time I got a lesson. But I also practiced a couple hours a day (this was before I got a facebook profile). To bring it all together, I am not trying to convince you, it is fairly obvious, Bob Dylan is an awful harmonica "player", he has written some of the best songs in the last hundred years, he is an excellent guitar player, he is a good piano player, but when it comes to harmonicas, he should hire a good harmonica player. Actually I do have a pet theory. I believe that he is trying to see just how bad he can play and still have people convinced that he is amazing. I actually did some of this during the summer, kind of seeing how weird I could dress and still have women faint at the sight of me. In fact I remember posing with an entire cheerleading team, while wearing a fanny pack. It was hilarious. I can imagine Dylan laughing with his band backstage while they are joking about some "epic solo" that he just foisted on his adoring fans. Well, I must be off, I just thought I would share a little from my end of the world. I hope you don't get mad because I am right. It would just be lame. I am wrong a lot of course, but I have really only heard Dylan play decently on a few albums. One being "Blood on the Tracks",at which point he had been playing music for ALMOST TWENTY YEARS!. Well that's all I have for now. Buzzsaw signing off.

Uh, yeah, basically...

I am trying to get warmed up for one more little, but rather important e-mail I need to send, so I went back to what has been my bread and butter, at least of late. Yes, that's right Craigslist, but this time I ventured up across the border, had to see what Vancouver had to offer eh? It took about 10 minutes, I found a few interesting pieces, but nothing which would fuel my fire. Call me co-dependant, I call BS, but I feel somewhat responsible to only bless my readers with the best, the most bizarre, and most shocking that craigslist has to offer. For some reason this one jumped out at me. I think it was the title:

Basically straight & over 65? - m4m - 65 (Vancouver)

Date: 2010-10-10, 7:23AM PDT
If you fit the above description (as I do) & are scanning these postings....and are interested in talking about your experiences on a totally confidential basis, then I'd like to hear from you.
I'm interested in what makes people tick and why they do what they do. We're of a generation that grew up in quite different times.....and before we all disappear, I'd like to capture the flavour of the times & the events that shaped our interests & pursuits.
So if you're game, I'm looking forward to hearing from you - and I'll happily buy the coffee.
If you're intrigued, but hesitant, then you're most certainly the person I'd like to hear from.

Sorry, but I have to ask. How can you basically be straight?!! It seems fairly obvious, either you are straight, or you aren't. Or you are a bi-sexual. Though, like the author I too am basically straight I wonder if maybe, I have missed some of the basics...The point is, an essentially straight guy, is seeking another nominally straight guy. Both around the age of 65. It seems a little odd. One would think that perhaps, by the time you are 65, that you really have a firm handle on your sexual preference. Basically. Well this essentially straight 65 year old, is bored. At least it seems like it.as well as senile. I say that because he says "...and are scanning these postings" I don't know, but I think it would be fairly to extremely difficult for even a basically gay man to read this posting, if he were not SCANNING THE POSTINGS! Sorry, but I had to bring that up. It is not like the fairly straight 65 year old man is in a sauna, and his butler will come in with a card on a tray. Wink and leave, because as the butler he would know that the boss is basically straight and would be interested in rehashing the '60's with another fairly straight hippie. Did I lose focus? Sorry, I was basically ranting. I find it endearing that the guy is wanting to listen to someone elses random experiences. Tortured during Vietnam? Want to talk about it? Hate everybody for no particular reason? Have hemorrhoids? Turned your hearing aid down because I was basically frightening? Love to hear about it! "We are a generation who grew up in quite different times". This guy is king at stating the obvious, while at the same time sounding really creepy. I bet he could write a menu and sound creepy. "Think you might like a juicy thick steak?" "Well I would love to show you exactly how we prepare all our meats" "Succulent, juicy, and its watching you, waiting for you to say something about your experiences" "Go ahead, touch it, don't worry, you paid for it, there are others out there just like you" "Quit turning your hearing aid off you bastard!" One approach I find unique, and perhaps it is why I fell in love with this posting, in a basically straight way, is how he makes it sound like the other guy is about to die, basically straight, without ever knowing if perhaps he is basically gay.  "...before we all disappear" "What shaped our experiences". Not that it is impossible, and if some old person decides to try something new that is up to them, I just think the post is laid out in a sort of scary and bizarre fashion. It ends by saying that whoever is most hesitant is the perfect candidate! So weird. But it could be that maybe it is me. Am I writing this because I wish I were a 65 year old basically straight man? Maybe. The funny thing is, many people reading this have no idea, because they don't know me. Well I will tell you this. I am 31, as far as I know, basically straight as well, and damned if I don't have a real desire to take this guy up on his offer for a cup of coffee. Of course I have no idea if I would be able to get him to go for it, but these type of things really intrigue me. And from the sound of it the guy is basically old, so I am not scared that I would meet up with him and he would basically turn out to be a rapist, because I feel that unless he was a trained fighter, body builder, or was in the least bit active, I could fight him off, basically. So, wish me luck, I am going to lie to this guy, just to see what he basically looks like.

Note: Buzzsaw is 67. He wrote the post. He is most certainly basically a-sexual. He is a confused, confused, disturbed man. Keep him in your prayers, he is basically a moron. Before he disappears, try to get him to sign up for a lobotomy. At least. He is basically crazy, has poor taste, not to mention basically terrible hygiene. So people, please pray for Buzzsaw, he is basically a mess!

Just when you thought you were safe...

I think I might be a natural custodian. For some reason I have spent a lot of hours either working as a custodian or talking with them. First of all, I must say this, if you work somewhere and you ignore the custodian, for some reason thinking he or she is not important, you are making a grave mistake. First of all because you are missing out on getting to know the person in your office with the best stories, second of all because a lot of those stories might involve you! Sometimes it seems like a custodian can blend in like a piece of furniture, as if he was just part of the background. It is in these moments when people will say things, not even realizing that they are being listened too. Oh don't worry, its just the custodian. You had better hope that the custodian is not a writer, if so it could be that you end up in his tell all book. I imagine that the Enron custodian, or for that matter Bernie Madoff's maid, might have a juicy bit of news that nobody else has. Another thing to think about is this. The custodian knows what you eat, he knows how wasteful you are, and he probably has a good idea about your sex life. That's right the custodian knows. Why? Because he can see the pictures around your desk, he knows when you leave the office, and he listens to your voicemail. At least he does if he is worth a damn. He also hacks into your facebook, raises your cows on Farmville, and even harvests your beets. And who do you think is sending you friend suggestions? Of course it is the custodian, because he wants to get so many mutual friends that after awhile your friends just add him without question. the reason being that all custodians want to retire. They do not want to retire in five, or even ten years, they want to retire immediately. And what better way to retire than to blackmail the rest of the staff. or write that tell all book. Nice thing is that the custodian, and notice I do not say janitor, is basically ignored, so no one has any dirt on him. He just slips in and out like a shadow, just silently collecting information. Of course he might say Hi, or even Hello, but that is simply a way to get people to put their guard down. He might even go in your drawer and replenish your candy supply (yes he knows about the candy supply), just to make you that much more vulnerable. I bet you are saying "What would he have to blackmail me for", or "I am pure as the driven snow", but do you remember the conversation you had in which you unloaded about your friend Karen getting shamelessly drunk on your girls trip to Forks, and do you remember what you told about the "hotel incident" later in the night. Well congratulations, the custodian heard that. And by now he has friended Karen on Facebook and is simply biding his time. it will probably start with an e-mail, it usually does. Of course you don't open it because the custodian still puts "Free Viagra" in the subject line (custodial humor can be a little low-brow). But the next one will be a little more sophisticated, he will include some shocking photos (yes, they make broom handle cameras these days), and this time it will have a link to a paypal account. Oh and did you ever hear the tired saying "Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas"? Well it doesn't, because I am sorry to inform you, but the custodians are forming a sort of custodial mafia, and very soon they will unleash their power on the entire world. It might surprise you, but some custodians are actually quite well off. I believe some jumped in the game simply because they knew they could mastermind any crime from their "lowly" position. Funny how people just pass them by. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I don't. Which is why I know the difference between a janitor and a custodian. Based upon the wording alone, a custodian has custody. he keeps the keys to a certain area or building, and it is his responsibility. A janitor often has multiple territories, or even works in several buildings, and does not wield the power that a custodian has. And if you doubt me, next time you see your custodian, ask her what your bosses favorite candy is. It just might help you get a promotion! Salut, Buzzsaw

More of the same...

Even though I think I have a job lined up for the winter and spring, I can't help wondering what else is out there. So I continue looking. Maybe I will always be dissatisfied, or maybe that greener pasture does indeed exist. In my humble opinion, judging be some of the advertisements I see it truly does. Here is an example of some of the wonderful jobs available:

Psychic? Real or Fake? (Se)

---

Date: 2010-10-07, 6:49PM PDT

Wondering if there is someone out there who is a real Psychic or one who can pass as one for a party on the 23rd. Needing entertainment for a party.
Person would be a in private area with guests going to you.
A real fun position.
Please send a pic with reply.

 

This seems like a great job. Not only do you not actually have to be a psychic, but you would be able to just sit around and wait for party guests to come to you. I wonder if real psychics would be turned off by being mentioned in the same sentence as fake psychics? I know that if I were truly clairvoyant I would be more than slightly miffed. It is not like you wake up one morning and realize that you can predict the future. It takes years of training and hardship to get to the level of psychic professional. Do you think Nostrodamus would have been happy about going to a party and trying to "ammuse" inebriated party goers? No way! The man was a professional! In fact even though I am not really even a fake psychic, I find it offensive that this party planner takes psychic powers so lightly. Do you know that the US government employs more than 7,000 psychics full time? Well they do. And that is why you have not had to livethrough WWIII! No kidding. Even during our time in a global recession, the psychic/clairvoyence industrie is still booming! I could tell you why, but then I would just be stating the obvious. Of course we want to know the future. It would protect us from bad relationships, financial hardship, and above all invasions from outer space. The last being by far the most important. So no kind sir, I am not interested in this "job", I find it offensive, and more than a little disturbing. If this party is your idea of a "fun" time, I think it should be reconsidered. What about the poor party goers? Do they know it is a fake? If they go to the fake psychic, and decide to change their stock portfolio based on some "harmless fun" they could end up facing a financial disaster. Oh sure, it might be a gas to "PREDICT A FAKE FUTURE", yeah, but what if the fake tell people that they are going to DIE? It might lead to suicide or worse! I see no way to rationalize this as a "fun" event. People are just trying to live their lives, and you are trying to lure them into some "private area" and involve yourself with the private lives of innocent partygoers. Not cool! Not even fun! If I were living in the Portland area, I would try to get this guy off the streets. It is shameful, and it shows blatant disregard for human safety. It shows a contempt towards humanity that is hard to understand. It is almost like saying "Firing squad wanted for party fun!" or "Poisoner wanted for Halloween fun!" Come on people, we need to fight this kind of evil with tooth and nail. I will tell you what I am going to do. I think I will infiltrate the party, not as the psychic, but as a friend of the psychic. You see I have a Russian who would work perfectly, his accent is uber sexy, plus he has a rad goattee. So I will go to the party, and the psychic will predict that the party goers should give me money, so I can save the whales. Then, when I get the money I will spend 10% of it to make flyers denouncing the party as a fraud. Of course I will keep the rest for my troubles, giving my Russian friend $11 or $12, this should help keep him quiet as I head out of the country so as to avoid the chaos which will inevitably ensue when the fraud is unveiled. Of course I am doing this to teach the party planner a valuable lesson. You do not have the right to involve yourself in peoples lives in this way. And not only that but the lives of their children. So lets stand up to this oppression people, who is coming with me? Disappointedly yours, Buzzsaw

Brothers in Arms

After much contemplation, I decided to write about a topic I have yet to tackle in written form. I know I have spent a good deal of time thinking about it and even talking about it, but I don't think wrote on it even in the winter and spring of this year, when I was doing my early stages of memoir writing. I am sure someone is on the edge of their chair wondering just what old Buzzsaw is talking about. I really don't know why, but I appreciate the fact that someone out there is frothing at the mouth to know. Here it is: squid. Just Squidding, I am actually going to write about the star of Little Ashes, Robert Pattinson, Robert Thomas Pattinson. For all the times people have called me Rob, Edward, Robward, Rick, Ted, Jedward, Richie, or any other damn thing, I have yet to sit down and write about the guy who without knowing is greatly  helping my career go international. Well here goes.

First of all though I do not know him, I have great respect for his talent, and I also think he seems to be quite an all right guy. In fact, I would be willing to bet that if we were to meet, we would probably have a lot of fun together. I bet I could even convince him to drunk dial Justin Bieber! Except with the accent he might say Justin Beebah! Oh well, I think I would be able to smooth that one over, I would have to grab the phone and pretend to be Rob's drunk funny Russian friend Yuri. Sorry I got off track. In all honesty, if I did not think Rob was an awesome guy, I would not be using Richie Pattinson as my handle. Of course there is more to the story of Richie (D-Patz) than just being his fake brother. First of all, I actually came up with it trying to figure out how I would fit in to his family, and since I am 7 years older, I realized that I would be the first born, and a son, so Richard Pattinson Jr would be an apt title. Well the more I thought the more I was able to create fake stories about growing up together, which I will not get into at this time. In summary though, through all the research I have done, I actually started to care for Rob in a way an older brother might care for a younger brother. When I see him getting harassed by the media I want to get in their face with a camera asking them probing questions about their sexuality. And I find it slightly discomforting to see some parts of the Hollywood machine, though this of course is from an outsiders perspective, and I have no idea who these people are. In fact there may be an actual need for the people who herd the stars around the Premiers, but I can't wrap my mind around it. Anyway, as far as acting goes, I think he will be a great actor. I have yet to see him in a movie with a story or characters that I am more than slightly interested in, he is a young guy and has taken roles to pay the bills. But I can say this. I know that Water For Elephants and Bel Ami are great stories. I read them, and both of the books were the type that I could not put down. As for Twilight, that is a book I couldn't pick up. It felt like a million pounds. I have to admit, I am "savouring" Breaking Wind, it is like a fine malt liquor. That said, I actually think he is really good in Twilight. I mean the character is so weird, who could play Edward? Not me, I would be urinating in my pants and laughing the whole time. I would have been fired. Plus I am too old. But back to Rob, I also like his music. Some people like it some people hate it. I don't care. I am not afraid to brag a bit, but I was a program director at a radio station, I am an award winning DJ (most Creative DJ 2004, KCWU Ellensburg), and I was offered an DJ position ant KPIG Santa Cruz. I know enough about music to say that I think he has talent. That said, I also think it is a damn good thing he made it in film, because he seems too shy to be a professional singer songwriter. Also it is a good way to starve. If I was not a welder and construction worker, I would be starving too. Well maybe, you never know. I personally held off on jumping in to music because I knew I lacked the maturity to deal with some of the temptations and the musicians lifestyle. Now I am thinking, its time to go for it, lets rock. So the strange part for me is, I was already doing music and acting. I was doing music and acting before Stephanie Meyer wrote in her diary, and now I am stuck being a character I never was, and who quite honestly I think is a boring uptight jackass! Thank God the twihards are so nice, if they were as bad as people make them out to be I would be the angriest man in America. Of course it is a little easier for Rob to deal with it, if he never did another movie than the Twilight Saga, he could retire a wealthy man, and never be seen by the public again. The cool thing is that he is doing other movies and they are going to be good. The people who say that he is going to be stuck as Edward for the rest of his life are not paying attention to him. He will direct great movies within 6 years, probably getting an Oscar at some point in the next 10. At least that is my hope. Jeff Bridges never won until this year, so sometimes those things don't make much sense. But the point is, he is not sitting around thinking about that, he is making art, and artists never sleep. If we are unconscious we are dreaming about art. If we are not listening to you, and we are not, it is because we are thinking about art. Lucky for me I have such a good memory that people think I am listening when I am really not! So where does that put us? Rob is in New Orleans about to make a mint and finally finish working on the Twilight series. I am broke as hell sitting in the upstairs room of my parents house. Rob has the world, at least financially and career wise, but at the same time doesn't know who to trust. I have an album in the works, the beginnings of a book that if I write it could quite possibly sell at least 14 copies, and I have the tenacity of a pit bull. If I would have quit playing music the first time I was told it was a waste of time, or that I was no good, I would be in an office somewhere contemplating suicide. I think that the two of us are going to do something in this world, and I will be damned if I am going to give up without a fight. It seems fairly obvious that Rob is doing the same thing. He has not reacted to bad reviews and criticism except to go and land roles in movies with killer stories. I don't know what his next move will be, but I really hope that it is to hire me to be his number one double, so I can be the bad guy taking pictures of the paparazzi, and he can escape to some resort with whoever he is dating. Lastly, is he dating Kristen Stewart? Who cares! Salut, Buzzsaw

Twilight, Forks, and Twi-hards

I have not written on the subject of Forks, The Twilight Saga, or Twi-Hards or any of my experiences connect with any of them. At least not on this blog. That is because I have already started documenting and working on a book I am trying to write about those subjects. So instead I have focused on other areas in an effort to warm up my writing hand and get back in the habit of writing. I also don't want to give away the proverbial milk for free, so I am being tight lipped. In the past few days though I have seen a lot of remarks posted by people who are giving the twi-hards a hard time, so I am going to write something in their defense. If you are a twi-hard hoping I am also going to speak in defense of Stephanie Meyer... girl, you must be out of yo damn mind! As for Forks, I will say this. Stay within the speed limit, stay in a cabin outside of town, preferably one with a kitchenette. And if you pay me enough I will come along and cook for you. But back to the twi-hards (in Forks and Forks only will you hear the antiquated term "twilighter"), in my experience with them, I have found that most of the bashing the receive is completely unfounded. First of all, most of the people, and yes, there are guylighters, were extremely nice, and surprisingly balanced. In the media it seems like all you hear about are the obsessive and psychotic. In reality these people make up less than half of the actual twi-hards. In particular I was doing business most often with the twi-mids, or people who were not that serious. The funny thing is that some of the seemingly craziest, ie., the ones with the $900 Japanese Edward/Bella doll, or the woman who brought three costume changes, are in fact the ones who "skimmed" the books! Of course there was the woman who has read the entire series 47 times, including Midnight Sun. But that was so rare it was almost an anomaly. All in all I experienced a group of wonderful people out to have a good time. What chaps my hide is that men (or women) are allowed to be complete sports zombies, but when someone gets obsessed with a novel (the merits of which will not be discussed in this forum), they are a freak. Does anybody remember Ricky Martin? Does anyone remember the New Kids on The Block? Who cares whether you like it or not. I think most Twi-hards would just as soon watch the movies with their friends who also like it then force it on an uncooperative husband. I would be remiss if I failed to mention that more than one confident and happy man paid for their wife to pose with me in pictures this summer. Why were they so happy? Because they knew that their wife or girlfriend were having a blast and that the little bit that they gave would in all likelihood come back ten-fold. I know of one particular boyfriend, whom, just for going to the tail-end of a Twilight Convention, is going to be getting to go to a Star Wars convention with his girlfriend! These guys aren't dumb, its a simple matter of give and take. and in all seriousness, compared to some romantic comedies, the Twilight movies are riveting entertainment. So if someone starts to give you guff about Twilight (and it could quite possibly be me) I would recommend perhaps just doing a three minute google search on NASCAR, it will turn up just as many or more freakishly imbalanced fans, so just go with the flow. Let your Team Quil freak flag fly! So TwiHards, Twi-On!

OK, now I know I have a problem...

So as I procrastinate again, I should go for a bike ride its a beautiful day, instead I turn to the internet to provide my entertainment, which I hope I can in turn, provide entertainment with. Once I regurgitate it. OK, so I am loving the platonic ads, because as I mentioned, they are so much more than just platonic. I don't know why I am so interested in this sort of thing, perhaps because I am jobless and have no girlfriend, so I like to see what others are doing, in hopes that I can get one myself. Of course I am fully convinced that the people posting on Craigslist would be good role models. How else could you be so cavalier as to think that your random little advertisement would work? You would only do it if you knew it did. Otherwise you would get suckered into paying for a dating service. That is what all the truly crazy people do. All the smart ones go to the free site, and pretend to be insane, thus solving all their problems. At least I think that is how it works. [I am currently in the second draft stage of at least 14 different potential posts, when I am truly happy with the language, they will be going online] So just to show you how easy it is, I am going to show you one of the posts I used to get a LOT of dates. And remember, it was in the platonic section. That is where everyone in the know always looks. So here is what I posted:

Just a friend to trust a few secrets - m4w - 30 (Deerfield )

---

Date: 2010-10-10, 2:44AM EDT
Hi. Don't know really why I'm doing this. But I guess I'll spill my guts Honestly I have no one that I can talk to or trust. My life is complicated and overtime I lost who I really am. I'm not trying to find someone to bother with my problems but to be an scape from everything. I do value friendship and I admit I believe in love probably I am a hopeless romantic. Anyway I hope someone find this interesting enough. Email me and I will send you my pic. Thanks. :)

The first thing you should notice is that I used some key words that will peak the interest of any woman. Friend, how many times have you been told what a great friend you make. You use this to make her feel like it is just something "platonic" and that of course that is all that is intended. When in reality it could not be farther from the truth. Trust. This one is of utmost import. It is the top dog in relationship babble. Trust do you trust me? Hell no! Not when you are holding that gun babe, now just put the gun down, OK, just put it down [grab] OK now I trust you! Secrets! Aha, bingo, now she is hooked. It is like waving a loaded crack pipe in front of a junkie! There is no way she can resist. She thinks she is going to get some kind of scoop or gossip, when in reality, she is going to be getting some top-secret loving! The secret is "we just had sex my platonic friend!" Hurray! Now this posting is almost overloaded with the perfect language. Honestly. Trust. Friendship. Hopeless romantic. It is like releasing an a-bomb onto the web. It is so good it could cause a chain reaction, and possibly destroy the internet! Which is why I changed it. I was scared of the consequences. So if you want to write the perfect post. Simply send me you bank account information, your PIN number, and any credit cards that have not been maxed out, and I will write it for you!

Note: This piece is a joke and Buzzsaw did not write the craigslist post. He was in fact scared by it which is perhaps why during the course of the blog he tried to claim authorship. Also, he is really really jealous. Because he is just sitting around. And at least the author will have e-mails to answer, as well as secrets to tell. Seriously, I did not write it. I am much crazier than that and could never have thought of it. And if the posting appears in Seattle, it is probably because whoever wrote it moved here. And it is highly likely that he will. I think. Oh, I hear the doorbell, gotta go.