Snatch Adams' Broken Parts Club Blog

YBLOG 3 pt.1

2011-03-27T19:52:00.001-07:00

-Y

YBLOG #3: Troop to arsenal

2011-03-20T09:30:00.001-07:00

Draco Prosapia hit up the arsenal mall looking to scout some new prospects. We were not disappointed.

Draco Prosapia

2011-03-17T07:29:00.001-07:00

Untitled

2011-03-07T12:07:00.001-08:00

Ari

2011-02-14T23:48:00.001-08:00

Well it's 2:45 AM Tuesday, February 15th. Day after Valentine's.

I thought I'd stave off sleep a few more hours to show the world my beautiful girlfriend, Ariana.

She means the world and a few more to me.

Ari

2011-02-14T23:46:00.001-08:00

Well it's 2:45 AM Tuesday, February 15th. Day after Valentine's.

I thought I'd stave off sleep a few more hours to show the world my beautiful girlfriend, Ariana.

She means the world and a few more to me.

Instrumental Photoshoot pt. 2

2011-01-09T14:23:00.001-08:00

Introducing...Miss MAG Pie.

2010-12-16T18:15:00.001-08:00

Note to self: DON'T clean painted metal surfaces with ALCOHOL..

Doc Lek shoot

2010-11-19T10:21:00.001-08:00

Greenline

2010-11-08T09:57:00.001-08:00

Supa Shoppa

2010-10-02T20:19:00.001-07:00

The Enlightened Path [2/2]

2010-09-06T20:54:00.001-07:00

Dextro steps out of the alley to come face to face with Claudius Rose, the younger brother of his former lover from the marine days. His light brown skin is orange under the vomit colored street lamps. "Don't rookies have a curfew? Go nab some hookers, kid." Claudius stares unchanged, his face looks as if he hadn't slept for days...Something was keeping him up. Then he speaks, but his face and eyes don't move, just his lips."I know why you're here, and I can't let you kill him."

"He's your father..." Dextro says. Officer Rose stares down, his face scrunched up in anger. "...so I'll let you kill him. But I need to get some info first if you don't mind..." Claudius waives him off and follows into the elevator. Fifteenth floor. They get into the hallway and Claudius stays behind while Steve pulls a keycard out of his stonewashed jeans, along with Harry's revolver. "That gun isn't protocol." Officer Rose proclaims.
"You stay out of this, Rose. It's purely a family matter."
"Sure."

Dextro enters the apartment. A TV is buzzing. It's just as flashy as the hallway. State-of-the-art furniture, expensive lamps, and pictures everywhere. All of little children. Dextro's senses heighten. He follows a new sound. A squishing noise, then a scraping noise, then a crack and thud. The smell of a dirty cigar and something rotting. Dextro finds himself in the kitchen behind the culprit. James Auerbach: The Photographer. He's balding and bloated; the face of a frog behind a pair of thick bifocals and a big grey beard.His black skin looks like tough leather. He slaps a slab of bloody meat onto the skillet. The hiss of human meat roasting.

"Why is everyone in this goddam town a goddam cannibal??" Auerbach turns around as fast as he could and charges at Dextro with a meat cleaver. Steve shoots him in his portruding stomach, his shirt expands and a few buttons pop off. He falls back to the counter and slides down to the ground as the meat fries.

"Now...you're losing consciousness. Your vision is probably blurry, and your body temperature is dropping. Shit's gonna get real painful if you don't tell me where John Beetle is." He coughs up some blood.
"I've been through worse, kid. I fought Zack MacDonald.I wont tell you where he is. I created the fucker. why would i put him on blast like that?" Dextro gets a little antsy. "When the FUCK did Zack MacDonald become the epitome of killing...don't answer that." Steven goes into his bedroom and looks in his drawer for something useful. Pictures, camera parts, envelopes. Everything is all cramped up in it. A real junk drawer. He comes back into the kitchen with an envelope and a nail clipper. Auerbach is dying slowly, convulsing and shaking. He's a sweaty, bloody mess. "This is gonna get disgusting, Mr. Auerbach. You're not under arrest...no...the best rest you'll find here is the one you're not waking up from..." Claudius hears his screams and barges in. Steven screams at him to stay in the hallway. A few minutes later, he comes out with blood on his hands.

"Alright I got what I needed. He's probably blind, but he can't close his eyes anymore...go have fun kid." Claudius looks, horrified at him as he walks over to the elevator, then at the room.

Dextro holds the gas down and doesn't let go. The siren is blaring red and blue notes to a moderately crowded freeway. He's speeding through the city to the westside rail yard. A dirty bomb went off there last year, and some of the noxious residue is still lingering. Dextro turns the radio to the alternative station and the siren off as he gets closer to the rusty old trains. They rise up the horizon like towers, some suspended by chains, others on tracks. It's far from a graveyard, as some of the trains are just discontinued.

He steps out of the car, onto the gravelly sand, wet from the earlier rain. The sky is glowing dark purple, tinting everything in monochromatic view. The only thing that sticks out is Zack MacDonald's green desert eagle in his hand. At the end of the night, things will be either better or dead. He keeps saying this to himself as he loads the magnum rounds into the pistol. He thinks about some things he hadn't thought about in a while. The wife he loved gunned down and raped by a man named John Beetle. The sentence rings in his head and makes turning around in the face of a gun an impossibility. Beetle has to die...and he keeps saying this to himself.

Then he stops. Sniffing the air...a soapy quality too it. Almost like...bubbles. He follows the smell of the bubbles and it gets stronger until he finds a giant bubble machine rigged to Mack truck. The lights flash on and he's blinded. Only the sound of the flaming red hot engine roars as it barrels straight ahead to him but he can't see it. On impulse he leaps to the right and misses the truck narrowly, latching onto the back and finding his way to the top of the rig. bubbles fly off of the front of the truck, taunting Dextro. The passenger side door opens and the perp has a shotgun. He unloads off the side of the trailer to keep the detective at bay. It's up to Steve to decide if the gunman is pump-action or automatic...He waits for the second shot and rushes to the passenger side to the man, juggling two shotgun shells in his hand. Before thinking and before the man can look up, he's tumbling onto the asphalt, a bullet wound through the throat before it's broken by the crashing inertia of hard black land.

Dextro is hanging on the door of the truck and the driver reaches for his gun. He strafes back up to see an empty open door. Then black on the windshield. Dextro's jacket blocks the driver's view as he fires three shots into the cab. Just far up ahead is the pungee pit; a huge canyon of rusty serrated metal artifacts. And with the driver out of commission, the runaway trailer is headed for it. In no way slowing down, Steven turns to the back, stays put for a few seconds, then makes a dash for the back and leaps off just as the truck trails into the pit. He misses the ledge and finds himself hanging by a metal branch sticking out of the wall that should have killed him. on the ledge comes none other than John Beetle, looking more ghoulish than before. His gums are dark and red, under brown teeth and a lip-less grin. The sunken eye is the topper. The golden boy was no longer a dapper lad: he's a monster now. Crouching down with a lead pipe in his hand, "Tetanus is a bitch, ya know, Steve?" He slowly pries his bloody hands off the branch, "I think she'll warm up to you though, something tells me." The detective slides down the side of the canyon, catching every splinter and fragment on the way down. He lands, and so does the lead pipe with him in a sort of clearing in the pit. A figure moves in and picks up the lead pipe. He has slick black hair, pretty fit. Not too big though. His eyes hold horrors of a kid lost in a world of stained steel giants. The pungee kid.

Steve comes to and is amazed at the circumstances. "Revolver versus lead pipe. Take one." The kid goes in quicker than expected and even faster is Dextro back on the ground, his head ringing. "Whoa...ok that won't happen again." The boy slams the pipe into his head again. "Round 3. This'll be differ'nt", Steve is battered and his nose is probably broken, he gets up and whips the kid with the pistol, then a kick to the kidney, then a punch to a specific part of the leg that makes him quiver and get down to one knee. He quickly aims between the kid's eyes and that's where he sees the innocence that was once there. But preserving innocence isn't on his to-do list tonight. He fires one square into the forehead of the pungee kid. He falls flat backwards, the stare still in his eyes, two big blue disks and a small trickle of red down the middle. He looks back up to Beetle, who's laughing at the whole thing.

"Hey Detective, it's not dead..." Instantly he's tackled from behind by the Pungee Kid. He proceeds to beat into his face with the pipe. Steve aims the gun at his other leg as best as he could and fires. A kneecap is gone. Another step up, he wants to end this all right now. He grabs a large narrow shard of rusted alloy and swings it quickly, lopping off the Pungee Kid's head. He goes over to a big hunk of complicated looking machinery and smashes it onto the decapitated head until there's nothing left but metal, bone, flesh and sand.

"I wanna see him get up from that." Dextro looks up to the ledge and sees no Beetle, only bubbles.

Steve reaches the top of the cliff and follows the trail of bubbles through the maze of metal and dust, blood trickles from his forehead. He can't run but he does the next best thing. He has a few bullets left in his pocket but he only needs one. Beetle dies tonight.

He hears a train starting. One of the huge freight lines from older times. He's close enough to hop on, chipping a tooth on the floor. It's an old circus train, all rusty and polka dotted. Dextro screams, "It's over now. You have no where else to run. We've been here so many times. But I'm not a stupid rookie and you aren't the "criminal mastermind" you used to be. You're predictable and short sighted!"

Beetle comes down into the car wearing some outlandish trench coat and dagger in hand. Steve keeps going. "You're getting old, Beetle. See? There's a few grays on your head." Beetle looks alarmed, but reverts back to combat mode, breaking his poker face for only a second.

"Reflection of light is all...so you want Cindy back, is that it?...well that's not gonna happen. We had some fun for the time being... I ate her labia." Beetle smiles a dirty smirk that resents nothing.

"You sick stupid fuck!!" Dextro charges at Beetle, who pulls out a shotgun at last second and blasts Steve in the chest, bows politely and walks away. "Hey look at it this way, at least you can float in water now. We're going into the city now and the docks are the next stop." He crawls over to his cell phone and sees an incoming call from harry twists a smile.

Harry is on the same route Steve took earlier, now chasing after the coordinates on his phone. Harry steps out of the car, still in hospital clothing, beside the train to try and catch on to it. He runs for his life but he just can't get it. The second he stops the first train explodes and the rest follow, taking out all cars and civilians in the way.

Harry walks back toward his car slowly in pain and agony, revs the engine and drives off into the brown and orange dawn lights.

EK @ BNN

2010-08-29T13:47:00.001-07:00

Daniel Ibeh AKA EK visits the BNN TV set for an interview and performance.

Rajah in Central Square

2010-04-10T07:18:00.001-07:00

SeeJee Long exp

2010-04-04T10:52:00.001-07:00

Sometimes the unexpected is the most promising.

infested reflections

2010-03-30T09:17:00.001-07:00

Jul-Nuts!!! (HOOL-Nuhts)

2010-03-25T09:19:00.001-07:00

Jul-Nuts!!! (HOOL-Nuhts)

2010-03-25T09:15:00.001-07:00

Jin

2010-03-13T22:42:00.001-08:00

Check out my band, The Government on Myspace!

2010-02-15T10:51:00.000-08:00

Cone

2010-01-16T22:44:00.001-08:00

Polished stone.

2010-01-15T14:09:00.001-08:00

The Enlightened Path (part 1)

2010-01-08T15:40:00.001-08:00

"The dust is too much for me".

Steven Dextro rides through the hazy fields, down to the brink of Nickel Cove in a dirty old sedan from the 90s. His badge and marine dogtags lay in his lap, his gun in the passenger seat, and little Cinderella MacDonald, of whom he has taken a somewhat unwritten custody.His wavy black hair flutters around huge wayfarer glasses straight out of the 1980s. He strokes his chin and turns the radio to a spanish-language soft rock station while she blows bubbles out the window.

"Ew what is this music, Stevie??", Cindy sits up; bubble wand in hand. Perfect grades in school, Cindy just heard that she's being promoted to the 6th grade. Her green eyes are purple behind the bubbles.

"Hey sit back! Ah jeez. You got the bubble crap all over my jacket...it's music. You should be exposed to all cultures, Cindy. It's a cool experience to see the other side of things."

"...But I'm not Mexican! I'm half-black, half-white!", Cindy replies with the sincerity only an 11 year old girl could.

"-Sigh-...Salvadoran. Just sit back and keep doing the bubble thing, ok hun? We're almost there."

Vanacutt Hospital room 706. MacDonald, Harry

Steven leads Cindy into the room and walks over to the bed. He'd fallen into the coma from the last altercation.

"Very well rested, Harry?... I told you not to try killing Beetle. You didn't save Lita...you didn't solve anything. She's a corpse now, kid. The doctor told me there's a slim chance you'll hear me but--"

"Hey Stevie, can I talk to my brother now?" Cinderella says impatiently.

"..Y-Yeah sure, Cindy go ahead..."

Steven walks out of the room into the hallway and checks his handheld. From the corner of his eye he looks on as a scarab walks past his left leg under the door. Steven crunches his foot
down onto the beetle, grabbing his pistol and busts down the door to find a throat-less nurse, a knife to Harry's neck, and the ghastly disfigured face of John Beetle, holding Cindy with the other hand.

"Nice to bump into ya, Stevie boy! I guess he just didn't have what it takes to do me in, yeh know?" His voice shrills with a hiss, the gapes in his neck are only weeks old, still bandaged. Dextro shoots the knife out of his hand.

"He had enough in him to give you gills. Jeez, he really messed up your face, huh? and your hair is all wiry and...not really there." Steve tries aiming at John's face, and Beetle Pulls Cindy in front of his.

"I've had enough of this conversation. Catch me later, Dick Dextro!" and with this, Beetle leaps backwards out of the window with Cindy still in hand.

Steven runs toward the window, almost falling out himself. Cindy's scream echos down the halls of buildings until plunging into the black river. He walks back over to Harry. "Disregard what I was going to say...I just hope you don't wake up too early...Just know i won't stop you this time...it's personal."

"We do this quick and easy. No alarms, no surprises, alright?"

The dusky room of a gambling pit on the South side of Dresden. Steve places his hands on the table.

"I need to find John Beetle. He got another little girl, and she's close to me." The person on the other table looks with an stone face. She goes by the name of Dakota Stanley, and used to go by Stanley Dakota."You really think he talks to me? Of all people?" He looks at Dakota, past the green highlights and heavy batted on eye liner. She doesn't know anything. Of course she wouldn't, she'd been outed by the city's underground as a snitch.Thrown to the bottom of the food chain, she's a gutter whore now.

"Yeah...you don't know anything. But you know someone who does..." She lifts her manly arm and flicks a book of matches at him. A number is clumsily written on the back, signed M. Harris.

"He's a frequent client. He talked about a guy that sounded like Beetle...John Beetle...the faggot. He never called me back after he heard about my big mouth. I thought showing him how big it was the first way wasn't enough...anyway. This guy says he started John Beetle...and knows your old buddy Zack MacDonald. "
"Call him." Dextro says.
"Right now? So sudden?" Stanley replies in a drug addled whir of procrastination.
"Right. Fucking. Now."
"Tell me where he lives, tell me what he looks like, and I'll tell you if he's alive by the end of the night."
Dextro takes a shot of something gold and relaxes behind the big black wayfarers."Jeez, Stevie. You're turning into Zack." Steve pulls out a green shaded .50 and lays it on the table.
"Don't be silly. Just make the call." As she dials, Steve walks over to the game, a dog fight. Ten years ago, he would have them all in a cell. Not now. Not after Beetle kidnapping Cindy. Not after Beetle slaughtered his wife. Not after Zack died. The future is too far gone now. Steven walks over to Dakota flirting with a patron, his hand is on her thigh and her's is in his pants. On the table is a sheet of paper with the information he requested. Steve whips up the paper and walks to the door. "She has a dick." Dextro walks out as the man procedes to scream at Dakota Stanley.

The night is warm and wet, like wombs of darkness. A haze hits the city as the black sedan races up the slick streets, up to the Financial District. In the passenger seat sits the green .50 and a picture of Cindy.

Lita Virgo doesn't want me anymore

2009-12-29T20:19:00.001-08:00

It's apparent. Completely, totally obvious. It's consistent with her body language. I've been trying to convince myself for about a month or two now...and so has she. I couldn't seem to shake it; the way she carries herself; those eyes caressed my mind with pure lust and her hips spoke a language of bodacious wrath. Never thought i would be able to be with someone so beautiful. And when it was over i wasn't surprised...just at the rebound.

The guy's name is John something...yeah John Beetle...He's a sketchy fuck. He looks to be about 30 in age. His philosophy seems to be that he gets older and they get younger...This kind of thing doesn't sit all that well with me. I'm a man of conviction. I don't go by the black book because it's too constricted, but i do have my morals, and this guy...he falls dead center into my cross hairs. It's been a while since my 'crime fighting' days; no more leaping off of fire escapes with crossbows...Now i just want to get the cases nailed shut. I feel like I'm inheriting my father's visceral sense of reality along with his brutal sense of force; it's part of being a MacDonald. Now my mother would never approve of this, but then again she met her end at the hands of this wretched city. Corona brûlera dans l'enfer.

I've found a secret about Mr. Beetle out on the streets that doesn't make him the most suitible rebound for Lita. I think that if i politely address this situation that he'll delightfully agree and we could all three of us go out for tea. Or i could squeeze his brains out through his eyes.

The car stops. I pass a few dollars to the cabbie. Then I'm off into the city night. Don't worry about how i got the man's address. What i'm more worried about is the bad feeling i get along with an iron taste the wind pushes into my mouth as i stand in front of the door of John Beetle. Apartment 7.06. With this...i push the bell and wait.

After less than a minute of wait, I jam one into each of the locks in the door. I'm being generous; there are more than enough rounds to share. After finding out Lita is missing, subtlety fell low on the list of traits a while ago. I can definitely thank my father for that one... I wedge the door open to a dank hallway, a blast of heat comes my way when it opens and feels dirty on my face. On the ground is something black as asphalt sticks to my feet like glue; makes it hard to walk. As i walk down the dark hallway i see a black cat in the light, licking at a brown spot on the floor. "Who's jinxin' who?" i say to her. Sweat builds up on my forehead, the apartment is a living organism, right down to the clanking heartbeat of the furnace. I open a door and I'm in the kitchen.

Everything is yellow; except for the dimming light surrounded by huge horseflies. I can't help but gag on the stench coming from the trashcan; the inside painted with the same shades of brown and black as the hallway. Clanking continues and my eyes follow the trail of black/brown from the trash onto the floor and up to the 50s style freezer. A hand-print is on the door and handle, it's a bit more red than the others. I hesitantly reach for the door handle; but i hear footsteps...heavy, deep-into-the-floor footsteps. I leap into hiding. Peering in from the pantry i can't see anything yet, but i can hear a grotesque gurgling wheeze. A boot kicks the door open and in comes a brooding, hump-backed giant; the light is eclipsed by his head. He pulls in what looks to be a burlap sack full of bodies. He pulls them out one by one, by the head. The first is a kid i saw on the streets, one that likes to get in the way; I could definitely see why he's there... he has a gash in his torso that bleeds still as he is put into the deep freezer in the corner, the giant has to throw out the frost-bitten salisbury steaks and pop-sicles. The next is a child who also looks familiar...oh god...wait...He pulls out the next child...it's the first's younger sister...a friend of my little sister Cindy...oh god...The giant is turned away from the pantry and as i aim the copper-plated revolver at the back of his dome, i feel a hand reach toward my shoulder...

The hand on my shoulder adds pressure, then i look back to see the dead eyes of a former roller rink girl i knew from...past instances. Her throat was slit; slaughtered like a pig. I try to stop her from falling onto me but the small space can't hold us both and wouldn't you fucking know it, I'm face up on the kitchen floor, with a dead whore down there with me, the revolver's on the other side of the room and a large mongoloid is staring me in the face. Don't take this out of context. He's staring me in the face with eyes so deep into his head that all i can see is shadow. His mouth has rips and tears all over and his lips just look like tattered skin.

The behemoth picks me up high, some of my hair is caught in the light i can feel it. I fall through the walls into a dark room without friction. His figure casts a shadow of a demon through the red light and smoke in the hole in the wall. Playing dead won't help me here; he won't believe it 'til he sees my insides and my inner most thoughts splattered all over, or at least that's how it seems with him pounding into the ground and all i can do is wait for him to find me under the steel and plaster and asbestos. Now that i have some time to think, i realize this guy definitely isn't John Beetle. Not the scrawny little rich pale freak i remember. And as I cough up that metallic taste, the big guy finds me, pounding into my ankle. The pain shoots up my spine so fast that it overpowers the shock of hearing it crunch then snap. Vision's getting...damp. I feel like dead weight now. I'm in mid air again...now the gentle rain taps on my face, while a pole on the fire escape protrudes from my shoulder...I cry in agony at the sight of it, but thank god that i can't feel any of this yet...more like thank the painkillers. But he isn't done yet. He pulls me off of the pole and brings me back inside. I guess I won't put much of a fight like before...I fall in and out of consciousness while he gives me a tour of the building. The caverns of blood and dirt. Attics lined with animal carcasses. Some kind of make shift testing lab, a marijuana farm, then i totally blank out...

I come to, my face scraping against the floor catching every fragment and splinter at we inch closer to the sound of Jim Morrison crooning 'The Crystal Ship' on an old, dirty radio. A familiar voice interrupts the song,

"Paul, is that you? Oh good. You got the fucker." I look up through one eye; the distorted vision is just enough for me to get a good look at the bastard. John Beetle. Now that I look at him, there isn't much to hate if you'd never met the man. Clear, pale skin, perfect eyebrows, I think he might be wearing rogue too. His eyes have a sustained, unchanging stare like a mannequin you'd see in some uppity store and an even more uppity mall.

"Hey, you piece of shit. You think you can just run up in the place and make the news the easy way? Blast us all to hell? Bad strategy choices, Mr. MacDonald. Lita Virgo isn't going anywhere. I think she's doing just fine where she is." He says this walking backwards to the left, out of my view. He returns rolling in a chair into the light. It's her. Lita..it almost took me a second to tell if it were really her...but the eyes are the same...The same beautiful blue, only surrounded by a bloodied corpse. The wounds in her head look deep and are still bleeding; hair is scarce and burnt off. She drools in a dead daze, vomit sludges from her mouth and onto a high class blouse and skirt that i did not buy for her. I try getting up but my leg breaks; that fifteen or so minutes of healing send another one of those shocks up my body.

I lay writhing in pain and Beetle comes over to my face.

"You're not slipping into unconsciousness. This is death. You are looking at the beautiful face of Death. And he's ready to harvest. That's why I'm keeping this bitch alive. Everything she has is going to serve another dire need. I'm sucking the life out of her. That is of course...after she sucked the..." I spit a brown mess of blood and mucus in his face and watch him fly backward, clutching his prominent countenance. He quickly runs back and bitch slaps me.

"You stupid fuck.." we both say to each other in unison.

"Well," He says wiping off the bloody spit, "I'm the stupid fuck with a muscle-bound retarded brother. What do you have? Paulie, kill his ass. I'm done with this game..."

Big Paul comes over in a slump. He sees the hate in my face and hesitates for a second. Without a thought, i grab the closest thing to me: a pair of badly sharpened scissors and dig into his monstrous left tendon. After a few tries of twirling and gouging, I make a clean rip. Paulie's leg falls forward following gravity's rule. I try to hobble on one leg, but before i could even get from the prone position, Paul's got his paws on my face and head. I don't know if he's trying to break my neck or crush my skull, but it's clear he's trying to END ME. The screams of agony coming from him are a gift to me.

He goes for a twist, but can't get past the pain.
The second twist almost does me in and i gag a little.
The third is set to do me in, he's making sure of that. But mid twist...he loses grip and falls to the ground, a bullet above his eyebrow. Me and Beetle are frozen, eyes darting toward all the exits. I leap for Johnny with the bloody scissors and he falls to the ground under me.

"I have to say, I wasn't expecting it to go this far...But i won't let it go any further. Whatever little after-school program you got running in here ends today. This ain't the face of death. I'm the fucking Devil." He gurgles on something as i raise the scissors to his neck. Footsteps emerge in the distance and another familiar voice screams in "Harry NO!!"

I look over and it's detective Steven Dextro. The man who told me about Beetle. That Johnny boy is his 'White Whale' and always gets away. I guess i got to him first...

I rip his throat out with the scissors. The blood sprays into my eyes and nose and mouth and I don't care to move out of the way. I lay back under Lita and look at her one last time.
"Steve...yes."

I feel myself falling out of it with the worst image in my head. The twisted visage of a lost lover caught up in the flashing lights and stuck in the web of Beetle. The last sounds i hear are the end of a song by the cure i can't seem to remember and Dextro's ultra-conservative, Latin-accented, frantic calls for backup and EMTs.

Yeah...Lita Virgo doesn't want me anymore...

020

2009-12-28T23:15:00.001-08:00

Dragonpiss Luchador

2009-12-25T13:58:00.001-08:00

Antisolar Pinpoints

2009-12-19T23:24:00.001-08:00

We Don't Exist.

2009-12-19T23:14:00.001-08:00

More SeeJee

2009-12-05T12:44:00.001-08:00

SeeJee

2009-12-05T12:37:00.001-08:00

A photoshoot with 'SeeJee', a guy I've been friends with since we were little kids. Recently he's building his resume in the hip hop industry, featured on a mixtape with the street legend Beanie Sigel. We hung out at a little hideout in hyde park and had a fun ol' time.

Corona [SS1]

2009-12-02T08:24:00.001-08:00

The vast wasteland of carnage expands in a cold gray panorama of decay. Cars, buildings, bodies and trash twist up and out like black foliage, hanging over the road. Something flies through it at speeds never seen in a mere automobile. It burns across the crumbled, beaten up asphalt. This is a monster. A living, breathing machine on 10 treading wheels. Inside is a man, desperately trying to get away. He doesn't know what's coming, he just knows it is. He looks in the rear-view mirror, his bloodshot green eyes are tearing up uncontrollably. He knows he has failed; he did something bad and he will be punished for it. It's that simple. He also knows it doesn't matter how far he runs, they will find him. The tracer on the back of his fat head gives them the signal of his location; he'll die if he removes it. The rear view has been empty since he left the scene hours ago...since he killed the last witness...He tries to focus but he chokes on the phlegm filling his throat, drooling out of his nose and mouth.

Everything jerks forward and while he's gathering his wits, another crash. Behind him is another behemoth of a vehicle, this one doubled in size. It grinds against the ground with hard alloy treads. Everything about this vehicle is five times better than his. He floors it and gains a few feet ahead of the tail. This is when the shooting begins. Pieces of his car disappear by the second. The rear door collapses and falls away from him, followed by the passenger side. Then before he knows it, the roof goes and he's staring a monster in the face carrying a large gun on his shoulder, riding parallel to him. The lens-like eyes focus on the front section of the car, wheels and engine in view. They've just gotten to the desert when the armed man shoots a round into the hood of the car. There is no explosion; he rides for about two seconds without anything past the windshield...he can see all of the car's innards fly to his right. The fat man catapults about 40-50 feet while the mini tank flips forward.

He lands in a mass of white dust. The salt flats resemble a minimalist painting of a landscape, and he's the subject. The tailing vehicle comes to a stop and out of the driver's seat steps a high heel. The passenger, a dusty, dirty boot. The passenger stays at the tank, while the high heels keep walking. A harsh wind picks up as she walks. Her scarf flies backward in the deep breeze. The fat man tries to look in the distance, but the salt gets caught in everything; in his eyes, in his teeth, his sweat pores and his snot. Almost as tight a cover as the one she has on him.

He tries to speak, "I...I'm sorry Miss Rose...I'll never..nughh" his words phase in and out of coherence. Paralyzed, he slowly falls out of consciousness. "Don't waste your breath, Larry." She turns him around, blade in hand. The wind dies down as she goes in for the tracer...and she isn't clean about it. He quickly jerks back up, choking and vomiting blood and food violently; his mouth froths up and he falls face flat into the pink muck.

"You wouldn't listen while you were alive to I guess I'll just say it to you now...my father is dead, Larry. You killed him. John Beetle killed him. And I killed him. He was going to get rid of the voices in my head and the scars on Silas' face...You just had to fuck everything up though like EVERYONE ELSE!!!" Dianna shoots the dead body until the gun locks up and Silas comes over to console her. "He can't feel it, love. We still can...but he can't."

Fenway Autumn

2009-11-23T11:54:00.001-08:00

The Fall

2009-11-23T11:21:00.001-08:00

Roman Sculpture

2009-11-21T09:06:00.001-08:00

Fenway Auto

2009-11-20T08:52:00.001-08:00

Seems like I should make a series out of these old school vehicles, yes?

Rajah

2009-10-23T18:19:00.001-07:00

Sonny Jim

2009-10-20T00:08:00.001-07:00

Greg McKillop

2009-10-20T00:07:00.001-07:00

Massiel!

2009-10-14T22:24:00.001-07:00

Amy

2009-10-12T20:44:00.001-07:00

Amy part 2

2009-10-12T17:56:00.001-07:00

Late Afternoon Campus

2009-10-06T21:10:00.001-07:00

The Face

2009-10-06T21:09:00.001-07:00

Southie stuffs.

2009-09-24T22:23:00.001-07:00

Doggie.

2009-09-24T11:57:00.001-07:00

Tree Bark

2009-09-24T11:55:00.001-07:00

Dawn

2009-09-07T13:26:00.003-07:00

Almost Dusk

2009-09-07T13:26:00.001-07:00

Evan!

2009-09-07T13:24:00.001-07:00

Midnight Kettle

2009-09-06T13:00:00.001-07:00

The New Organ

2009-09-06T12:02:00.001-07:00

MORE bass

2009-09-01T15:06:00.001-07:00

Dark Sky

2009-08-29T15:44:00.001-07:00

South Bay

2009-08-29T15:28:00.001-07:00

Heavy Pink

2009-08-29T15:27:00.001-07:00

Dirty Mikey

2009-08-28T15:40:00.001-07:00

After Rainfall

2009-08-28T15:35:00.001-07:00

Harvard Square Music Scene

2009-08-28T15:28:00.001-07:00

Jose's Porch

2009-08-27T09:58:00.001-07:00

Tales of the Turk House

2009-08-24T09:42:00.001-07:00

Untitled

2009-08-24T09:25:00.001-07:00

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: chris rogers <aocrkid@gmail.com>
Date: Fri, Aug 14, 2009 at 12:06 PM
Subject:
To: post@aocrkid.posterous.com

Bass

2009-08-24T09:24:00.001-07:00

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: chris rogers <aocrkid@gmail.com>
Date: Mon, Aug 24, 2009 at 12:22 PM
Subject: Bass
To: aocrkid@posterous.com