Props to my Peeps.

I'd like to give a shout out to someone who helped me gather my thoughts on this autobiography that I'm trying to get picked up. I'd hope it would be a textbook someday for art classes everywhere. Or one of those nice little magazines next to the pocket horoscopes they sell in the check out lines at the grocery store. Either way, I'm fine with it as long as there's a paycheck in it. Anyways, thanks to a nice girl in Chattanooga, TN (who we'll refer to as "Miss Bootytang" for now for publicity reasons) for helping me transcribe my thoughts onto a scroll and then into a fancy typewriter and then into this here computer. She's been so nice in lookin' up my history and locating ol' friends and contacts and family. All this would not be possible with out Miss Bootytang.

My Autobiography, Part 2. paragraph 2

It was pretty hard being one of 21 children, and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. Sometimes Father would forget our names. So he’d just call us by what we was wearin: “Red-and-blue stripe Gooper, go get the mail”, or “Diaper Gooper come down out of that tree, it’s time for Sunday Service!” Now that was something – getting all 21 of us to church. All we had was a old Nissan station wagon that only held 6 of us. So Father would have to start real early and make 4 separate trips. Depending on traffic, sometimes you’d miss part of the sermon, and miss Sunday School altogether. Hard as that was on Father, he wouldn’ta had it any other way. See, Mr. Watkins our neighbor down the road had a old school bus from back when he was principal over at South Elementary. He offered to give us that bus in exchange for a bowl of Mum’s famous mashed potatoes, but Father said he didn’t want to spoil us. He sure was a working man.

My Autobiography, Part 1. paragraph 1

Hell, I don’t remember much about being born. Mum always used to tell me that she was too busy watching the young ‘uns to remember my birth, either. So in a way, I guess you could say no one’s really sure if I was ever born at all. I do know that my birth took place somewhere along the coast of Nebraska. That’s where 12 of us was born. The other 9 was born in Las Vegas. New Mexico, not the fancy one over in Arizona. Back to me, though. Me and my twin was birthed in a Kroger parking lot, cause Mum didn’t have time to get to the hospital after her grocery shopping. She just popped us out and took us home with the rest of ‘em. Aunt Myrtle remembers Mum comin home and sayin, “The groceries is here. And there’s a couple of new ones - they’re in the back seat. Could somebody go get ‘em?”

What do you know?

I'm thinking of doing some paintings based on the seasons. Like one for fall and summer and winter and spring. I think that would be awesome, especially if there was a big eyeball in the middle of them all, with a serious look in its eye. Real serious. That would be wicked awesome! Peace out.

My Autobiography.

I've been working on my autobiography, and it's gonna rock.

Who's this new band I'm hearing these days?

Has anyone else heard of a band called "The Spin Doctors"? I've been looking for their music and I can't find it at Wal-mart. I mean, I figured they were bad-ass, but I didn't know they were too bad-ass for Wal-mart!