Ty: Hey, guys?

Whabadoo: What you want, Mister Ty?

Babadoo: Yeah?

Ty: I brought a friend, he's religious, so be nice, okay?

Babadoo: Okay, who is this culty fuck?

Whabadoo: Babadoo, cut that shit out, dude. Chill. He looks cool...for a man of the cloth or whatever.

Ty: Guys, this is the Rev. DJ Richie-Scratchy, you can call him Rich.

Babadoo: Hello, Mister Reech.

Whabadoo: Where's your collar?

DJ Richie-Scratchy: Ha-ha guys. I don't wear a collar. I'm a virtual minister; an Internet preacher. Praise God to all!

Ty: Okay, Rich. Tell the fellas what you were telling me.

DJ Richie-Scratchy: Guys, I'm hear to tell you that God is mad. Angry. Pissed the hell off. The end is near! Praise Allah!

Whabadoo: Really!?

Babadoo: What we do? How do you know?

DJ Richie-Scratchy: In addition to feeding tubes for the Pope and no feeding tubes for the Terri, God gave us earthquakes in the same brown part of the world not too far from Christmas and Easter. I bet he meant them to be on Christmas and Easter but when you have to throw them from so far away (the other side of the universe) you can be off by a couple of days. Praise Buddha.

Plus, Jerry Falwell is bleeding out the asshole and Johnnie Cochran got a wicked brain tumor - the fun inoperable kind. "If the tumor's too big; nigga, get a shovel and start to dig!"

Ty: Dude, that was cold! The brotha's just doing his ca-zash bizz-niz. You don't have to hate...

DJ Richie-Scratchy: "...if homie's got a lump in the head; get yo po ass outta bed..."


Babadoo: Whabad-- What the fuck is that?!

Whabadoo: Well, I got to thinking. Terri had one. John Paul has one. I got me a feeding tube! I hear they'll be all the rage soon. I read that Jennifer Anniston is getting one in her stomach and that Beck has had one out his nose since last November. He even had Thanksgiving dinner through his. So, when you told me about getting all sick and shit, I got to thinking...

Babadoo: You cannot be serious. A feeding tube? Dude, that is so wrong.

Whabadoo: What's so wrong? A friend of mine said they saw Karl Rove with one at a party in Virginia. He was downing Michelob like a motherfucker...

Babadoo: I'm going back to sleep; this is one fucked dream--

Whabadoo: ...and college kids are using theirs to in highly sexual ways.
Whabadoo: Babadoo?! Where you been, man?

Babadoo: I have been very, very ill. I was at death's door. I was one foot in, man.

Whabadoo: Whoa...why didn't you tell me? I could have brought you some soup or something.

Babadoo: Soup! I couldn't eat no fucking soup. I was really goddamn sick, man. I had tubes and shit in my nose. I couldn't talk. I couldn't move. Nothing. They said my heart stopped a time or two.

Whabadoo: Shit man, what happened?

Babadoo: Those Republicans, man... The doctor says I had reached, whathesay? "A threshold." My system couldn't take it anymore. I was so full of their nasty, vile polluted shit, I overloaded. I thought I had taken as much as possible, then Bolton, then Wolfowitz, then Hughes, then steroids, then Schiavo. That shit put me over.

Whabadoo: I hear Jerry Fallwell is sick too. Maybe he die? Pope too?

Babadoo: I'm feeling a little better.


Babadoo: Yo, Whabadoo. I have a question for you.

Whabadoo: I'm not here to talk about the past; I'm here to be positive about the future.

Babadoo: B-b-but, Whabadoo, you haven't even heard my questio--

Whabadoo: I'm not here to talk about the past; I'm here to be positive about the future.

Babadoo: Dude, what the fuck? Can I even ask the question?


Babadoo: Shithead.

Whabadoo: I am not here to talk about the past; I only want to be positive about the future.

Babadoo: You roidin' again, Whabadoo?


Babadoo: Oh, please don't send me into the cornfield again.


Babadoo: That was good. Next time when you do the "putrid little asshole" part, bug your eyes out a little more. The neck vein thing was perfect.


after the shakes, the sweats, the grumpiness and the "flu," life is so worth living again. food is tasty and so is the sun.

but, the mind races. dangerously.
Babadoo: Hey, Whabadoo?

Whabadoo: Huh?

Babadoo: What's the matter with President Bush?

Whabadoo: Why, what do you mean, Babadoo?

Babadoo: The global development community has to wonder exactly what it says about American plans for the World Bank that Bush has named a leading war planner to head the world's leading development agency.

Whabadoo: Huh? Why did Mario quit American Idol. I so sad now.
Babadoo: The Internet wrote me again.

Whabadoo: What the Internet tell you this time?

Babadoo: The Internet say the doctor approve my prescription.

Whabadoo: Prescription? What's the matter this time?

Babadoo: I don't know, but the Internet told me it was time to refill.

Whabadoo: So you did?

Babadoo: Yea.

Whabadoo: Oh, Babdoo!!
Whabadoo: Hey Babadoo, you wanna somke some of this?

Babadoo: OK.

[ten minutes later]

Whabadoo: Hey Babadoo.

Babadoo: What is it Whabadoo?

Whabadoo: I'm reading some quotes from Henry Miller you might like.

Babadoo: Oh, shit, he that pervert who write nastiness. Let's hear it Whabadoo.

Whabadoo: Yeah, but these aren't like that Babadoo, so calm yourself.

Babadoo: Then don't bother me; I'm looking at my fingers. Have you looked at your fingers recently Whabadoo?

Whabadoo: You're fucked up Babadoo. Listen to this one: “It's silly to go on pretending that under the skin we are all brothers. The truth is more likely that under the skin we are all cannibals, assassins, traitors, liars, hypocrites, poltroons.”

Babadoo: I tell you one thing I ain't, and that's a poltroon. Whabadoo, what the fuck is a poltroon? Is he from Mexico?

Whabadoo: I think it means coward, Babadoo.

Babadoo: Oh. He right. Hey, Whabadoo, are you an assassin?

Whabadoo: Babadoo, that was the worst Brando impersonation I've ever heard.

Babadoo: Brando? I was doing Nixon. Shit, look at these fingers!

Whabadoo: You got some hairy fingers, that are for sure.

Babadoo: Here's another: “Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.”

Babadoo: Now you're talking. Wait, I'm lost...

Whabadoo: And: “not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves.”

Babadoo: Nope, still lost. What do you think they'd look like shaved Whabadoo?

Whabadoo: Don't shave your fingers Babadoo. What about this one: “Our own physical body possesses a wisdom which we who inhabit the body lack. “

Babadoo: No, I think I'm going to shave them. Give me something sharp. I want smooth fingers, and I want them now.

Whabadoo: Fuck, you need to see some sunlight

Babadoo. He also says: “If shit is ever worth anything, the poor will be born without assholes.”

Babadoo: You know Steve, down at the corner store? He told me he has two. Two assholes. Shit.

Whabadoo. Babadoo, stay clear of Steve. You know he ain't right.

Babadoo: Why you got to be racist. Just because the guy's got two assholes...

Whabadoo: Racist? Babadoo, put down that goddamn knife. Listen: “We have two American flags always: one for the rich and one for the poor. When the rich fly it means that things are under control; when the poor fly it means danger, revolution, anarchy.”

Babadoo: It doesn't work. How can you shave with a knife? I'll be right back. Hey, Whabadoo, check out the cat.

Whabadoo: That cat's nuts. Why is he looking at us like that?

Babadoo: You feed him yet? I bet he hungry. He look hungry.

Whabadoo: Hey, here's another good one: “Imagination is the voice of daring. If there is anything Godlike about God it is that. He dared to imagine everything.”

Babadoo: I wish I had $5 of what he's on. Whabadoo?

Whabadoo: What is it Babadoo?

Babadoo: That cat, he still staring. Make him stop.

Whabadoo: Just ignore him Babadoo. He just fucking with you because he knows he can.

Babadoo: Damn.

Whabadoo: Damn.

Babadoo: Shit

Whabadoo: Just ignore him, I told you.

Babadoo: Damn

Whabadoo: OK, here's an appropriate one Babadoo: “We do not talk - we bludgeon one another with facts and theories gleaned from cursory readings of newspapers, magazines and digests.”

Babadoo: Yeah, I get it, hit me again, I can take it.

Whabadoo: “Music is a beautiful opiate, if you don't take it too seriously. The waking mind is the least serviceable in the arts.”

“The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely AWARE.”

Babadoo: OK, OK, enough. Let me see your fingers. I want to try something...

Whabadoo: Babadoo, you're fucked up. One last one to think about: “Whenever a taboo is broken, something good happens, something vitalizing. Taboos after all are only hangovers, the product of diseased minds, you might say, of fearsome people who hadn't the courage to live and who under the guise of morality and religion have imposed these things upon us.”

Babadoo: Yeah. Taboos. Come here and give me a big sloppy kiss Whabadoo.

Whabadoo: Shit, Babadoo. What would the cat think? “When shit becomes valuable, the poor will be born without assholes.”


Whabadoo: Hey Babadoo?

Babadoo: Yeah, Whabadoo. What do you want?

Whabadoo: They want me to buy more of the pills. What should I do?

Babadoo: Here's a twenty!
Babadoo: So, Anthony from the Wiggles, you know blue shirt drug dude?

Whabadoo: Yes, I know Anthony. What about Anthony?

Babadoo: Have you ever seen Anthony and Flavor Flav together...I mean, have you?

Whabadoo: You make a good point, in the same.


Whabadoo: I think I need a hug.

Babadoo: America need hug...from God.

Whabadoo: Shut the fuck up with that shit and come over here.


Babadoo: Hey Whabadoo? That chick on Survivor; the one with all the tattoos and the panties?

Whabadoo: What about her?

Babadoo: She make me so horny and full of nasty thoughts.

Whabadoo: Me too. I want to stick things through her lobes.
Whabodoo: Babadoo.

Babadoo: What?

Whabodoo: Did Michael touch you too?

Babadoo: Yeah, he touch me.

Whabadoo: Damn, I thought I was special.
Whabodoo: Hey, Babadoo?

Babadoo: Yeah, Whabadoo. What is it?

Whabodoo: Where did all the dope go?

Babadoo: You ate all the dope, Whabadoo.

Whabadoo: Oh, I ate all the dope?

Babadoo: Yes, you ate all the dope.

Whabadoo: The weed too?

Babadoo: Yes, even the weed.


Now that it's March and 2005, I thought I'd introduce a couple of new characters.

Say hello to Whabadoo and Babadoo. They're brothers, like Bonald, Ronald and Donald, right?

So, Whabodoo and Babadoo were feeling a bit flabadoo...


[send naked pics to]


Blogging? Blogs? Blogger? What the hell is that all about, anyhow? Stupid, overly self-intersted, self-absorbed kids today. Like anyone cares about what anyone else is thinking or doing. Really?!

Hi! How are you? I'm bored too.

Uh, yeah, TTBOTT, odd, huh? I don't find it so odd. It's all true, all honest. If you were to poke my head with a sharpened stick, it's what would have come out yesterday. Tomorrow? Maybe something entirely different would leak. Right?

But, people need to remember my truth is to the middlespaces. And "middlespace" is still defined as: middlespace is the interpretive manifestation of thoughts and ideas as expressed within the context of personal or intimate experiential journeys.

Middlespace: that place...

I set out to make a middlespace album and I will make more. If I cared about mass appeal, I'd never make art. Art is personal. Art runs parallel to emotions; to psychology. Craft is something entirely different. Mass appeal is greatly overappreciated. But, let's never forget the power of the muse.

So, TTBOTT, odd, huh? It's a story, like the bible.
What are "they" saying about "take the branches off the trees"?

[the context doesn't really matter]

- "It's really fucking good...good shit."

- "How the fuck do expect me, as a rational human being, to respond to this?! How am I SUPPOSED to THAT?! What the FUCK was...was THAT?!"

- "There are no words."

- I listened to ttbott...while we painted designs on shirts. It's really fucking good. Perfect for listening while smoking, drawing - even without headphones, great. I mean, I knew there was more going on in the track...but that really didn't detract any. We listened to Bauhaus after - freaky good shit.

- "...kind of made me a little sick."

- "There is some arrogance there, as in, while I listen, I know some things will be completely beyond nearly every other mortal, but I understand it."

- "Dude, there is shit in there that I get, believe me, I get it, but what the FUCK was that?!"

- "How is the rest of the world supposed to react to that?"

- "Genius."

- "...startled the hell out of me."

- "...fucking weird."

- "I think it's definitely in a new genre of music."

- "It was genius. I just have no idea what just happened."

- "I don't think most people would be willing to appreciate the longer tracks like 12 which are dense and difficult to understand."

- "They're mind drifting tracks."


so, "take the branches off the trees" is done, now that the remaining album images are up. [here, fool]

i'm releived. tired. rehabilitating.

but, secretly ready to start the next record (i'm ready to go higher concept).

Bush is still not governing in my best interest.


take the branches off the trees
In comparison:

This new tKoL album...jesus, where to start? First it's a "tKoL" album, not a "the Kingdom of Leisure" album, just tKoL.

It's a history text, an encyclopedia. It's an adventure. There are specific lessons to be learned, mostly about me. So, yeah, it's a bit autobiographical. It's patient and the listener has to be a little patient as well.

I'm not trying to hype anyone, I don't really care for that. But, there's a story; a plan. It may suck, but I lost a bit of myself in this process, I probably shortened my life by a couple of years. I don't know. I'm happy it's done and I survived it. I learned a lot too.

That's it. Anticlimatic, huh?

Major recording operations for this album have ended.

I just need to spend some time EQing, balancing, finishing touches, you know. Maybe even find places to scale back, but I'll probably talk myself out of that.

Okay, the artwork still needs to be done and some sort of packaging effort.

But, the album is done.