Archive for the 'Random' Category

Experi-MENTAL

Published
by
KentAndKyle
on December 2, 2009
in Random
. 0 Comments

The following is an experimental writing piece with an illustration attached. Process: Kent wrote lines for “Manny”, and Kyle wrote lines for “Simon”. Simple. Simple Simon, the Pieman. I think I would like to be a Pieman. Ah, I hate career moves.

Enjoy.

—

Manny: Hey man. How’s it going?

Simon: Terrible. My cat has disappeared – completely.

Manny: Really? Oh shit, I’m sorry. How long has he been missing?

Simon: You don’t get it. Mr. Fluffer HAS DISAPPEARED. There was a sorcerer at my house…things went awry.

Manny: No. I mean, I remember seeing him Saturday night at the party, but after that… nada.

SImon: You aren’t listening! You couldn’t have seen him Saturday night, because we were cuddling. Mr. Fluffer and I like to cuddle Saturday nights; it’s in my calendar. He vanished into thin air – literally – last night.

Manny: Look, if you don’t trust me, you don’t trust me – but I am telling you the truth!

Simon: Manny, none of this matters. I’m processing the disappearance of my cat, and I am okay with it. The big problem here is that your mom is overweight and mean. Frankly, she is a fat bitch.

Manny: NO YOUR MOM IS FAT, BITCH!

Simon: (Jumps at Manny, puts a hand down his pants and yanks on his pubic hair)

Manny: EUAHH! STOP PULLING MY HAIR!

Simon: Like that will stop me! I want you to say “ok ok ok ok” and then “truce”.

Manny: Ok ok ok ok. (out of breath) Truce……fuck (annoyed)…. you fuckin’ ripped a chunk of my hair out.

Simon: It wasn’t something I wanted to do, man. You were just being a huge dick, and I reacted to your dickness. I am sorry.

Manny: Yeah me too. (bashful)

Simon: You wanna go hang out with underprivileged youth? Sometimes you can get them to do stuff for you – bad stuff.

Manny: Ok! Sure!

Simon: And when I say bad stuff, I mean (puts his hand down Manny’s pants again)

Manny: Wait. What?! Stop touching me?

Simon: (Rips more pubes out) (Laughs)

Manny: It wasn’t as bad this time!

crotch_grab_small

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Wilshire Boulevard

Published
by
KentAndKyle
on November 11, 2009
in Random
. 0 Comments

Wilshire Boulevard. No sunglasses. I am always forgetting them. And always regretting it. The constant blinding is still new to me. Sidewalks grasp trees that don’t belong. I wonder where they were seeds.

Two men in ties and slacks stand outside their office building, staring at two trees elevated in a concrete planter as if they had happened upon them for the first time. They point at the beautiful mess of branches and squint to get a better look. What are they so interested in? Are they wondering how such a mighty being could look so frail?

I am walking aimless; hands in pockets, unable to find a bookstore. The office men and their demonstrative display below the trees distracts me and I am struck blind by an apparition.

She is crying and angry with me. I pretend not to notice her, turning to look at something across the boulevard. I am not blessed with grace. My feet tangle beneath me and gravity propels me against the towering walls of the office building.

With her speed my ghost floats to me and holds the tip of a knife to the small of my back. I am taken hostage. She wipes her nose.

I kiss the structure, closing my eyes. She whispers and I don’t hear a word, but her tone is wicked. She is in control. With the butt of her knife she knocks me unconscious.

I wake up screaming. Upon investigation I find that my feet are firmly encased in a concrete slab at the base of some building. I might be on Wilshire Boulevard. I also might not be. The sun is out and I assume that at least one day has passed. My apparition is nowhere in sight. I am unmoving, mercilessly stable, and lost all the same.

It’s hot. The sunglasses mistake is becoming more infuriating than before. My pale skin is pink, but I know it will blister soon. The thought of this nearly makes me pass out. I am hovering outside my own pathetic figure.

That is, until a maintenance worker comes to spray me with his hose. The crystal stream hits me, shining optical diamonds as it reflects off the killing sun. I lap at the water like a happy dog, drooling. Soaking wet, I am satisfied.

As night falls I curse the maintenance worker. Bring me blankets! I am freezing!

I am also burning, or at least my legs are. Cramps have set in, and I decide this is Karma. Hoping to quell the stabbing in my quadriceps I attempt to sit, but my Tibia threatens to snap against the high and tight cement. I can’t do anything right.

A few drunk couples watch my failure and laugh. I admit that I look funny – out of place – but I don’t believe their laughter is necessary. They scurry off and I am left alone in the moonlight.

Just another tree.

tree-trunk_small

urban_tree_small


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The Story of Sky Island

Published
by
KentAndKyle
on December 8, 2008
in Comedy, Funny, Random and comic
. 1 Comment

click image to enlarge


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Snowbank

Published
by
KentAndKyle
on November 13, 2008
in Random
. 1 Comment

I wonder if it snows in Japan. It has to, right? If I had to guess, I would say it does, but I’m not guaranteeing that. I won’t bet anybody my life savings or anything. Something about Japan just says it doesn’t snow here.

The reason I bring this up is because of Pearl Harbor. I am wondering if it was snowing on the day that Japanese planes attacked Pearl Harbor.

It was early December, and I’m sure it was snowing somewhere in the United States. Maybe it was even snowing on a really tall Hawaiian mountain that I don’t know the name of. This was all before Global Warming, so I guess anything is possible. People were probably freezing to death. I only assume that because they make it look so cold and horrible in the 1930′s and 40′s. Those were some dark times for the ol’ US of A, before we rose up beyond the mountains carrying our flag and waving it for the whole world to see. I bet it snowed A LOT back then, and even if it didn’t, people that lived back then will say that it did, just to make it seem even worse. They don’t need to convince me, though: times was tough. I get it.

Thinking back to that day in December, I get this image in my head. It’s of this snowy field, out near some farm where there is nothing but land and sky for as far as you can see. This field, like I said, is just covered, blanketed, in snow. Its immaculate; there are no footprints. No one walks in the field, because there just isn’t anyone to walk in it. Except for the farmer who owns the land, but his cows are in the barn for the winter, so it’s just him and his family out in their farmhouse, cold as all hell, stoking the fire at night and hoping they have enough soup to last until the roads get cleared.

This image, though, this image in my head is of that snowy field and an empty car. You see, the farmer had to drive in to town to get medicine for his son who’s been sick for the last week, and his cough is only getting worse, so the farmer braved the snowy roads and actually made it to the pharmacy. So, he’s at the pharmacy and they’ve got the radio turned all the way up, broadcasting the news of the attack at Pearl Harbor and the farmer is sitting there at the counter, mouth open wide, stunned. All he can think is jesus christ and that he wants to get home as fast as he can to tell his family. So he hops back into his car, and drives like a bat out of hell towards home. He’s almost there, when he hits a soft patch and the skids into a ditch. Stuck. His head is banged up against the steering wheel and his arm might be broken, but he shakes it off and crawls out of the car, onto the frozen ground, jumping up with what strength he has and runs to the farmhouse with his wife and children inside, waiting around the dinner table. The car just sits there in the ditch, its black body out of place in a world of glistening white.

At home the farmer tells his family how their lives have changed, even though they didn’t know it.

Was it snowing in Japan? Did they know their lives had changed, too?

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A note from Kyle and Kent

Published
by
KentAndKyle
on October 13, 2008
in Random and notes
. 0 Comments

Hello Castle Goers!

We just wanted to remind everyone that if you’re new to the site we recommend that you sign-up for the newsletter or add us to your RSS feed.

Over the past few weeks we’ve established a schedule, and we’re getting new posts up on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Illustraton-Haiku Fridays! “Crooked Creek Cut The Valley So Deep” will be appearing every other Wednesday, and the story will be taking off to some exciting places in the next few issues.

It’s so fun to collaborate and challenge each other, so we hope you enjoy it as much as we are!

Thanks for visiting!

Kyle and Kent

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We highly suggest you read this…seriously.

Published
by
KentAndKyle
on July 16, 2008
in Random
. 0 Comments

EXT. BAR PARKING LOT – NIGHT

The parking lot is almost empty and lit with streetlamps that shine pools of light on faded white parking-space lines. It is only almost empty because there are two surly dudes with bulging biceps and veins popping out of their foreheads roaming the area. They are drunk, and carry aluminum baseball bats. Obviously.

SURLY DUDE #1: You think those guys are still in there?

SURLY DUDE #2: Which guys?

SURLY DUDE #1: The guys we’s gonna beat up. Kent and Kyle; you drunk bastard.

SURLY DUDE #2: Oh, yeah! I love beating people up. Especially with baseball bats. There is probably nothing I enjoy more!

SURLY DUDE #1: I plan on punching one of them. That will be AWESOME.

SURLY DUDE #2: So, I’m all into this, don’t get me wrong, but why are we beating their skulls in again?

SURLY DUDE #1: BECAUSE THEY NEVER POST ANYTHING ON THEIR WEBSITE ANYMORE! GAHHH!!! IT MAKES ME SO FRUSTRATED.

At that moment, Kent and Kyle walk out of the bar, unaware that the two surly dudes in front of them are ready to give them a skull bashing.

SURLY DUDE #1: THERE THEY ARE. LET’S DO THIS THING!

Kent and Kyle look at each other, with cartoon eyes popping out of their heads.

The surly dudes run towards them, wielding their bats high in the air.

Kent and Kyle scream.

KENT: WAIT!

KYLE: STOP! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!

SURLY DUDE #1: We want you to post more often on your collaborative blog, The Unlimited Freedom Castle!

SURLY DUDE #2: YEAH! DO IT…OR DIE!

KENT (apologetic): Hold on, guys. Really we’re sorry.

The dudes slow down and lower their weapons.

KYLE: Honestly. It’s not that we haven’t been working on stuff. No, we’ve actually been busy doing TUFC – but it’s going to be live action.

SURLY DUDE #1: Huh? That doesn’t make sense.

KENT: What Kyle means is that we’re going to be apart of a gallery show at the beginning of August. We’re working on the pieces that will be displayed there, and planning just how the exhibit is going to look.

KYLE: Yeah, we’re really excited about it; our exhibit is going to be interactive!

KENT: The viewer/audience will actually have a chance to participate in The Unlimited Freedom Castle collaboration!

SURLY DUDE #2: Again, we’re confused. How will that be possible.

KYLE: We’re glad you asked. There will be two “inspiration pieces” (one written, one illustrated), and the audience will have their own pieces of paper to write or draw on, hopefully “inspired” by the pieces Kent and I have put up.

KENT: Any and all collaborations will be placed online for the rest of the world to see!

SURLY DUDE #1: Woah. That just blew my mind.

KYLE: Thanks for the compliment.

KENT: Yeah, hey, the show is August 7th at the On Gallery: 321 NW 6th #101. Portland OR. 97209. You guys wanna come?

SURLY DUDES (together): AWESOME! WE’LL BE THERE.

END SCENE.

So that’s our story, folks. Sorry for the lack of posts, but we hope you’re excited about the gallery. We know most of you aren’t in Portland, but we’ll be displaying the gallery pieces on the site after the event.

Since it’s been over a week since the last post, we’re going to give you a sneak peek at one of the gallery pieces. There is a line excerpted from the written inspiration, and the unfinished sketch that goes along with it.

Thanks for sticking with us!

————

“Down there we’ll find some interesting things. Buried cities; treasure, maybe. Mostly the bones of the dead. Artifacts of what we long ago believed in.”

Illustration by Kent St. John

Illustration by Kent St. John

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It Was in Her Eyes

Published
by
KentAndKyle
on July 2, 2008
in Poem and Random
. 0 Comments

It Was in Her Eyes

Bye, bye,
Said the man with the sad eyes.

He contemplated what his veins would feel like with ice flowing through them.

Waiting for the right moment had taken too long.
And now, with the love fleeing from his heart,
to his fingers,
to the thick-with-thought air,
he was mostly a ghost – or rather,
the opposite:
he was a body without a soul.

He said It felt like it was no one’s fault as he forecasted a future that set his life on fire, and cast her body into darkness. She used to play the piano, but now the piano was playing her. It was taking its cues from horror films, pounding hard on the low notes, and playing short, shrill, high A’s when it all settled down. It was incoherent and covered in spit. If she could have left the bench she would have wandered into a dirty hardware store, stolen a sledgehammer, and snuck up on the bastard thing and broken it into a million sharp pieces. She’d keep one of the black keys in her purse. These mementos are like tattoos for her, and she marks her life with them.


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Hell was Hell was Hell: A Poem in Haiku

Published
by
KentAndKyle
on June 26, 2008
in Poem and Random
. 1 Comment

Back in the old days
Before the world got caught up
God was obvious

Hell was Hell was Hell
Now the spirits say “We’re stuck!”
Hell is here on earth

We look to the sky
Asking, “shall we repent, Lord?”
Without a reply

It used to breathe fire
But this smoke out our windows?
We did this ourselves

Hell was Hell was Hell

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All I Can Think of are Dancing Chimney Sweeps!

Published
by
Kyle
on May 11, 2008
in Random
. 0 Comments

With the shake shake shake you’d think that there was an earthquake. Bongos give the beat, and bounce along with a butterfly procession. Even the trees seem to bob and twirl to the up-and-down. This is a dream of a hot summer city, taken apart and reformed in a radical way. This is where you want to be.

It’s perfect – you think there’s no way this can be real. There is no way it can be real. Its polish is too polished; its sidewalks are too smooth; its people are too kind. They actually smile at you. The homeless guy near your stoop whistles. You’re jealous. So you become a kind of perfection-hound – monitoring its movements; watching it waiver; looking for it to somehow lose its composure. After a while the lines begin to show. It begins to break under the pressure. Your little city, invigorated, reincarnated with a joyous spirit, isn’t all that was advertised. Its streets need sweeping. The grass needs to be cut. The homeless people need to find homes. You frown. Ah, you just aren’t good enough for me.

So you leave.

And a few months down the road you’re in your new city, and it sucks. There aren’t any bongos here. There was an acoustic guitar one day – but it played the same song over and over and over. The streets sweep themselves, but it’s like, who cares? You’d pay for someone to smile at you, or even whistle. It could be the worst song in the world, it doesn’t matter, just somebody please whistle!

Chimney Sweeps

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Advice you shouldn’t take

Published
by
Kent
on May 2, 2008
in Comedy, Funny and Random
. 0 Comments

And he said…

Let me tell you; kids are precious! Half of them still think Santa Claus is real. HA! Man, oh man! Just think; if you showed up in a Santa Claus outfit to a kid’s party, the kids would be all like, “Santa! Santa! Give me a present!” And then you could just pull out a huge rubber knife and be like, “Or I could stab you!” They would just scream and scream – meanwhile, you just start wobbling the thing around, showing them that its rubber, and throwing candy in the air. That way, you get to scare the kids, but don’t have to worry about them telling their parents, and then having their parents tell the police, and getting your name on the community watch list. It’s like, even though you haven’t been convicted of anything, the whole town is basically blackballing you, and starting websites about you, and you can’t even shop at the grocery store without old women spitting at you and calling you scumbag. All you wanted to do was have some harmless fun. So yeah, just make sure you fill those pockets with candy and a few dollars (kids love money) and you’ll bear witness to beautiful children smiling, then screaming, then crying, then laughing, then smiling…all in the matter of seconds.

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