West Coast Smoker.

Is it narcissism if you love yourself for all the wrong reasons?

What if you feel the opposite?

PS: New Fall Out Boy is catchy as fuhhhhh.
PPS: Ask me about Crenshaw Boulevard.

Robot Rock.

I love that I live in a house where a joke about willingly becoming a robot leads to a legitimately intriguing discussion about the dynamics, drawbacks, and advantages of implanting a robot with quantifiable emotion.

Andrew's point: What good is a perfect feeling of love and happiness if there was never any sadness to counteract it? Essentially, without sadness there can't be happiness, so even a certifiable implant of an emotion, where it possible, would be meaningless. Really, there would be nothing to compare it to. Andrew feels that sadness needs to be ever-present to properly "calibrate" the measure of "happiness" included.

Raf's point: Agreed that there has to be a measure of the opposite to compound a feeling, but I feel that were one able to perfect a sadness that leaves an impression without remaining, it would truly lead to a permanent and quantifiable feeling of ecstacy. Think of a footprint: it lets you know someone was there, without you have to see the person walking those steps. My suggestion was to implant sad memories, but to remove them after a while, so that the impression remains, and not the impressor.

Having known sadness without reliving it, could a robot truly be permanently happy? Once the being recognizes and/ or relives these events, it acknowledges the flaws and essentially, it becomes humanity. In knowing there is more than it knows, so to speak...giving a robot sadness makes it human.

Discuss?

In non-sentient technology news, it's almost Christmas and I'm starting to fall victim to the Yuletide of emotions people tend to get this time of year. I miss home, I miss you all, yet I'm strangely happy I'm staying in California. Going to Vegas won't hurt, but the fact that I didn't have the option to fly back does. Bollocks to that nonsense.

For those of you worried, my Irish Kudzu patch is coming back nice and think, and bramblier than ever. Every day I look at myself in the mirror and I get scruffier and scruffier. 2009 will be a bear of a hair surprise.

Here's hoping the best for you and yours.

-Raf

PS: No, we're not drunk: this entire discussion came about because of how much I love synthpop, electronic music, and Daft Punk's phenomenal Alive 2007: Japan

PPS: If only I could be an android bear...

Coldest Winter.

So what motivates someone better than greed? Well, girlz, dawg, but you can't win those from Shaun Spalding's brother Steve. I am posting about the Sears Grant a Wish contest, brought to us by the good folks at www.howtosplitanatom.com. Apparently Sears is offering Steve and seven other cohorts the chances to spread material Christmas cheer. I love nothing more than talking about myself and winning stuff I didn't earn, so I am linking back to his site, as per the official rules. If you're reading this Steve: thanks a lot; it's awesome that you're gonna be able to make a few people's Christmases that much more awesome.

In order to officially participate, I have to link to the post, so here we go

A Steve Spalding Selebration


Click on it, and maybe you'll win something too! Maybe we all will, if we melt enough corporate hearts with our combined Christmas sneers.

In real life news: I got a bonus at my job I don't like. It helps deal with the blatant disrespect and the egregious abuse of my good nature and willingness to help.

I also have to replace the brakes on my car and it appears someone stuck a nail in my tire, so chuuuuuuch.

Oh yeah, and I don;t know if I'll post any more frequently than once a month as it seems, but happy holidays to you and yours. Happy Chanukah, Merry Christmas, and those of you who celebrated it, I hope you had a solemn and dignified Ramadan.

I might be going to Vegas after Christmas... so stay tuned.

Thanks to all of you for reading, especially Katrina Tan, Andrew's sister, who I had no idea would find rantings about comics and weirdos that interesting.

Later days.

PS: I drink on Sundays.

Debaser.

Sometimes I really do feel like I'm frontin.' I mean, I have a job in this economy, yet I still find everything to complain about. Maybe I'm being too melodramatic...and this is almost assuredly the case, but I can't seem to help myself. In Other news, EMILY VUXTON, here are the long promised pictures of our house three months ago:















For those of you who I've unfortunately left out of the loop, I work for a company that monitors drug and alcohol testing for the trucking industry in California. Believe you me, it's more soul crushing than you'd think... but a paycheck is a wonderful motivator.

Also, I got a haircut, a fascination for Star Trek, a decent tolerance level, and an internal sense of responsibility: all things I was sorely lacking before I skipped town.

I do plan to post in this more often, for the three of you who read this, so I hope you enjoy.

PS: Yes, I did see Punisher: War Zone

PPS: Whatever you think I thought of it, that's what I did.

PPPS: <3 you all.

Naive Melody.

I acknowledge I don't write in this enough... but that's mostly because I feel it doesn't merit to parrot.

For those of you who aren't Danny, here's what's up:

1) I have a job. Full-time, working for a company that monitors drug and alcohol testing for the trucking industry. It's every bit as glamorous, interesting, and fulfilling as it sounds... if you're an idiot.

2) I got a haircutsurprise. Before you accuse me of actually going corporate, I'll thank you kindly to try to scrub shampoo into a thick bramble bush, then rinse it all out. Now you know my pain.

3) I shouldn't have cut my hair.

4) Oh, how I miss you all. Terribly, to boot.

5) Life is a series of checks and balances, for better or worse.

6) Holy shit, Ice Cube might be the best rapper alive.

To wrap it up, I'm 23, employed, miserable and complacent.

Oh yeah, and I bought myself a MacBook for my birthday. Sell-out salaries let you do things like that.

Plz, let me know how your lives are; I try to keep in touch with all of you, but it's just hard, yo. Especially when I sell my soul for a third of the day for just enough scratch to keep the demons away.

At the risk of sounding like a broken record... I love you all.

PS: At Emily Vuxton's request, I'll post pictures of our new house... when I get over my distaste for digging through folders.

Thanks for reading, you all, and I am going to make an actual, honest to Grodd attempt to post in this more often.

PPS: LOLZ comic books.

Wild Pack of Family Dogs.

The following paragraph is a rant. Be warned. It is completely skippable.

So here we are, in beautiful, maniacal, San Diego, CA. The weather's 73 degrees year round, usually, and the people are FUCKING CRAZY. As Daniel and I discussed, I think we live next to Arkham Asylum. A man missing his lower jaw comes out every day at around 8am, and departs at 8pm. Normally, this would not be a problem. However, since there's no central air, we open the windows. Solomon Grundy takes it upon himself to smoke and mumble for hours on end, sometimes under the pretense of having a conversation. Since my window is a perfect vantage point to next door, I get the full blast of his insane demeanor. It was cute for a couple of days...now we just fear for our lives.

END RANT

In other, actual news, I start in October with the Registrar of Voters, but am currently awaiting a hopefully fruitful opportunity with Verizon Wireless. I always pretended I'd never sell out...but I can't fucking wait to be a company man.

Also, for your enjoyment, a list of the films we've watched in the past couple of weeks:

2Fast 2Furious
Four Brothers (Twice)
John Witherspoon: You Got to Coordinate.
Postal
Soul Plane
Who's Your Caddy?

A startlingly obvious trend, if ever there was one. Let me just state, for the record: I LOVE BLACK PEOPLE.

Yes, I do miss you all. Yes, all of you. Yes, even those of you that read without my knowledge. I do hope you'll visit.

Might be going to LA this weekend, which is pretty chuuch.

Lastly, I've sent a lot of you postcards, but if you'd like one (or another,) hit me with your address. Send your letter bombs to:

Raf Gaytown
5755 Potomac Street
San Diego, CA 92139

I think that's it for now...

Oh! I got new glasses. Check out my Facebook profile, http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=2006004 .

I think they make me look gay.

Best to all of you, and I will always love you all.

Once Upon a Time in the Projects.

I think Ice Cube is my favorite rapper ever. That makes him the Thomas Allen Waits of hip-hop.

Once again it's on, I'm going out the front door, Ice Cube and the glass house headed for the store

Idolatry Tonight.

Jim Colee is the reason I am who I am.

Discuss?

PS: San Diego is a see-saw of hope. I miss all of you...yet I want to start anew.

The Keyboard's Been Drinking (Not Me.)

For all you Raf Gaytown fans out there, the soundtrack for this trip: Randy Newman's "Harps and Angels." I bought it at an indie music shop in Austin, Texas and it's fantastic. I also almost bought red sunglasses...more to come.

Greasy Spoon Guidelines:

1) Buffalo sauce and Tabasco go with EVERYTHING.
2) The bigger the omelette, the lesser the man.
3) Of course you can have 8 glasses of champagne at 1pm. It only cost you $2.99!
4) Yes, I WILL have it Animal Style, thank you.
5) Huevos Rancheros Omelettes are the reason you wake up in the morning.
6) 7 eggs is just excessive.
7) Why do apple crepes taste like Apple Jacks?
8) That is orange juice I just poured into my malt liquor.

Fake update: As I was typing that last sentence, the ice cream man passed by, jingling his bells. Feels good to be a kid again, doesn't it?

Stay trill, fam.

Feels Like Home.

Well fam, I finally have news to report. We're in San Diego, and we have a home to call our own. If you're ever on the West Coast, drop by 5755 Potomac Street, San Diego, CA 92139. It's a lovely four bedroom house with a thoroughly modern kitchen. My room is a bit small, and I'll post pictures later, but I like it just the same. There's no central air, but that's both a) a common occurrence in San Diego, and b) perfectly fine when it's 73 degrees year round.

Also, it looks like I'll be working with the San Diego Registrar of Voters for the upcoming election, if only temporarily. It's work and money to pay the bills, so I'm slabbin'

Real talk: I miss all of you, and the phone being passed around at Ying's party made me realize that as hard as it is to say "goodbye," it's for the best. Expanding Westward is one of the best decisions I've ever made..at least, it's looking that way.

To those of you who read this: thanks. It means a lot.

In summation: I love each and every one of you.

The Lonesome, Crowded West.

From Saturday, August 9th, to present, I have:

-Been in a car for over 20 hours.
-Slept about as many hours.
-almost hit a coyote.
-listened to Randy Newman's new album nine times.
-taken the Root Bear Surprise across the Mississippi.
-listened to a bunch of stand-up comedy albums.
-been more lecherous than I've been in the past twenty years.
-dranken a Hand Grenade
-visited America's butthole; Kermit, TX.

There's probably more, and I meant to update a bit more real-time, but finding a signal has been next to impossible. Tomorrow we head to Phoenix, Arizona, so if any of you have any suggestions as for things to do, then I'd love to hear them.

The 14th is the day: we arrive in beautiful, glorious San Diego, CA, at the corner of Adulthood and Responsibility. Fuck.

I miss you all.

California Medley

I'm tempted to try to write a verbose and heartfelt goodbye to you all...but I won't.

I only have this to say to each and everyone of you:

Thanks.

Goodbye is too good a word, because people in my life are seasons..

In conclusion:

I have always, currently do, and will always, love you all.

Comedy Option:

Most of You: It's Been Real.
The Rest: Eat a Dick.
All of You: Thanks.

PS: You were always my favorite...

In Vino Veritas.

I always thought I'd have more time. I'm leaving forever to slab Westward in 44 hours.

Wow; it always seems like you have more time, til you realize you did. I didn't think about it until I typed that number out. Hopefully, you've made the best of it.

Today's sign-off will be a comedy option that I test-ran on Jim Colee:

Most of you: It's been real.
The rest: Eat a dick.
All of You: Thanks.

Screw(ed)ville, USA.

Blog update #1/ Actual update #5/ Gaitan Family Motto:

I didn't think I'd last this long. I wish I had been right.

Sleep Spent.

Okay, right now it's 8:35 am. I have been awake since 4pm or so yesterday. My sleep schedule really could use a hard reset, and I'm just this side of reckless enough to consider it. As of now, I am going to try to stay up until sometime tomorrow night. By that logic, I should get a full night's sleep and bring my patterns back into what is considered the "normal" flow of things. I might not succeed...but I went down fighting it every step of the way.

Also, I think I'm going to be making a cameo appearance in Gainesvillain on Friday with our good friend, Daniel Martin Djello Djeljosevic. I do hope I'll see you all.

So on that note, here comes trouble. Remember kids, be like me...about 80% of the time.

PPS: I might be back to blog as time passes, but feel free to also check out my twitter page (www.twitter.com/bearsurprise) for the inevitable updates and the undeniable regrets.

Sweet Talk.

I'd smoke for a kill.

So it's official; I'll be rollin' with Andrew, Shaun, and Danny (justafan.tandrew.com, www.isitobvious.com, and dfordjeljosevic.blogspot.com, respectively) to that newfound haven, San Diego.

I couldn't be more scared...or more excited. I have a good feeling, but you know what that usually means for a tramp like me.

If you read this, even a little bit, it'd be great to know, so hit me up sometime. I don't want to lose touch with anyone, and I figure this mess would be the best way to keep contact.

<3 to you all, I swear.

Fozzie Bear Surprise.

:FAKEUPDATE: Flying Lotus's "1983" and J Dilla's "Donuts" should be on all of your iPods. Trust me.

Last night as I watched The Steve Harvey Show and couldn't sleep, I got to thinking about my love of Nabokov's Lolita, and particularly his impeccable ability to craft beauty from mere words. One phrase always stuck out with me: "A Sunset-Ending Street." I wrote up a brief short story/ treatment in my notebook, and promptly disregarded it, but I kept kicking this stanza I might include, if I decide to go back and expand it.

To everyone and no one in particular:
A sunset-ending street where the memories replete of the time you went away; a truly sunset-ending day.

Aside from that short burst of alleged creativity, I've been kicking around and plotting a legitimate idea for something I might write up and planning the big move to the West Coast.
However, my biggest gripe of all is with ION Television, for removing The Wayans Bros. from their schedule and replacing it with Hangin' With Mr. Cooper. I mean, what the fuck?

One day it'll have to make sense...won't it?

You Wasted Life, Why Wouldn't You Waste the Afterlife?

I'm not as sure as I used to be. Taking a leap with a blindfold isn't sounding as awesome as it used to be.

Or is it?

Is there a way to make liquid courage last?

GZA/ The Genius of Internet Comedy

UPDATE: I've started looking for jobs in San Diego, and I'd kill my idols for a sub sandwich. Preferably a breakfast hoagie.

So I've been reading Married to the Sea, and it's sort of hit-or-miss, but dear God, I couldn't have written this better myself.



If only Exploder could be as well-drawn, or funny.

In Ghost Colours.

I've been fighting with this sick, sick throat since Tuesday night. Right now, I'd give anything, especially all my comics, for:

a) permanent relief from this sore throat
b) my own radio show.
c) you know the rest.

I've really been getting into This American Life right now, especially after catch an episode of the Showtime version. What a sublime show.

Poll:

I'm thinking about changing the name of this blog to either Bear Surprises or Break-Up Letters from a Bear Surprise. Thoughts? I'm open to any name change suggestions.

Thanks, all.

'til next time.

Rising Up.

In roughly 16 hours I will be back in the Gainesville area. As for the previous post, I won't say it should be disregarded, but understand everyone has rough patches. You can't choose when they come at you, but you can try to be better. That's all you can ever do, really.

I haven't let you all go, and I won't. You were all good to me, and I can only hope that I was good to you.

At the risk of having this sound like my old livejournal,

I love you all.

Ya lyublyu nikh.

Also, The In Crowd by the Kidz in the Hall is a great hip-hop album, which everyone should listen to twice right now. See y'all in the evening.

-Raf Deini

Rising Down.

In roughly 48 hours I expect to be back in Miami. This town will be in cinders.

Everything ends, after all. People in your life are seasons. We had some fun, some ups and downs, but in the end, you gotta let me go. I already have.

At least, I'd like to think so.

Do svidaniya, vsyekh.

Glocko Pop

Do Svidaniya, Djeljosevic is back on track. Currently Daniel Martin Djeljosevic and I are sitting in the apartment hopped up on lemonade and The O.C. reruns and banging out the comedic script to end all comedic scripts. We're going to murder comedy once and for all with episode one, tentatively titled "Glocko Pop." Also, each episode will be named after a Wu-Tang or Wu-Tang related song. KILLA BEE STING.

Oh, and I graduated. Tight.

Here I come, San Diego Slabbin', Til next time, I'm making my exit on some calm shit, so hit me on the regular for kegs of more...

VOMITSPIT.

...And It Happens Every Day...

I can hardly believe it's been four years of highs and lows, ins and outs, and just about every pair of coaxial emotions you can imagine. But above all, it's been real, and I couldn't have done it without you all. All of you.

Exploder will be back soon, when I get some fresh ideas and initiative. But it's coming. And don't forget to catch my exploits as I go West Coast Lampin and San Diego Slabbin, simultaneously.

I guess this is the long goodbye.

The Greatest Pac-Man Victory in History

Too much Russian, too much pepperoni, too much coffee and too little sleep bring you Exploder #2: Exploder Tells a Story. Enjoy it, and feedback is always appreciated.

Anyone wanna hit the Arredondo Room with me and the Tannhauser Gate at 1pm?



PS: So listen, Danny and I are thinking about doing some electronic music as a side project; convince him that Supreme Clientele is a good name, or simply Clientele. Suggestions are always welcome.

PPS: How do you guys feel about the name Hacksaw Truffaut?

EXPLODERRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Because of size constraints, you might have to click the image to get the whole thing. It's worth it?

So hey guys, in class today I decided to be productive, so I created the long talked about web-series Exploder!!!! that I suggested a while ago. Without further ado, Exploder!!! will be posted with some frequency. This is the rare #1 that I created today, and hopefully I'll have them up more and more.

PS: I have a newfound respect for inkers.
PPS: Look for the spinoff: Exploder Joins a Student Programming Group

Exploder #1 by Rafael Gaitan
"Exploder Plans a Trip"


PPPS: The word he says is "asshole." It looks like "coshole"...but it's not.

Even In These Formal Shorts, I Feel Like a Failure

Am I really turning into a grown-up? I'm thinking about grad school and moving to another state and settling our my affairs for the future, and less and less about things I care about everyday.

What happened to just not giving a fuck?

In lighter, more career-oriented news, it does seem like I will be making the Quantum Leap into another state sometime in the near future. Everything just has to come together, and it looks like it will, which is exciting.

Music has been kind to me lately, with my post being kicked up soon on justafan.tandrew.com, as well as a weekend full of vampires, tokyo police clubs, and NBA Superstar Puns. And Ballantine's Finest, which is far from.

Anyone wanna go to California with an aching in their heart?

.tipstimoV

So it's been a week since I last had any kind of internet access, and in that week I managed to

a) improve my golf game, but in an amount so negligible that it's laughable.
b) purchase BluBlockers.
c) pour through disc after disc of the lovely and talented Veronica Mars
d) listen to the Mars Volta like I was getting paid for it.
e) miss all 3 of you who read this, as well as the countless that I wish did, like hell.

Thanks for the memories, now, then, and for all the whens. It doesn't seem like it matters...but it does.

<>

I've always felt that some of the best songs I've ever heard are really, really short. Apparently brevity, aside from being the soul of wit, is the lifeblood of pop brilliance. A 2-3 minute song is usually much more focused, clever, and downright enjoyable than the epics brought about by some artists, though by no means is this any kind of solid observation.

The Kinks are a band that are known unknowns, to turn a phrase off a Three-Six Mafia record. Everyone has heard of the Kinks, and everyone has heard "Lola" or "You Really Got Me"...and that is that. The Kinks enjoyed great success in England, and Ray Davies is probably one of the greatest singer/ songwriters of any generation. The song that made me realize how wrong I was to lump the Kinks into the British Invasion Also-Rans is one of the happiest, poppiest, prettiest and most evocative songs I've ever heard, off of their 1968 album The Kinks Are the Village
Green Preservation Society,

"People Take Pictures of Each Other"

Clocking in at a mere 2:12, Ray and the gang take us through a lifetime of photographs, with and without his presence. Using generalizations of occasions when people would photograph one another, and blended with personal anecdotes, the song offers a sweet and sentimental look at exactly what makes one care about the fleeting moments of life. As Ray himself puts it in one of the most poignant and gorgeous verses ever written, "People take pictures of each other/ and the moment to last them forever/ of the time when they mattered to someone." The deceptively easygoing backing track caught me off guard the first few times and found me singing along, completely underlying the powerful message contained in one simple sentence. The Kinks capture a moment of sublime sentiment in telling us what we know; pictures capture what we wish we could have forever. Time flees, people fade, but pictures help us delay reality for the better. No matter what one thinks of him or herself, everyone has had their picture taken, which reminds us of a simple resolution; at some point in time, someone thought so much of each of us that they wanted that fleeting second to last, that one particular moment, for as long as it possibly could. As the narrator of the songs puts it, "How I love things as they used to be/ Don't show me no more please." Overwhelmed by all the energy and fulfillment that a simple object can hold, the narrator finds himself relenting to this emotional tidal wave. The song captures the feeling of stumbling onto old photographs and "time traveling" to periods that mattered to someone, somewhere, enough to grasp tightly.

This song reminds me of "the good times," when people could just be at their most emotionally naked, and when there was nothing more important than the moment. As I'm graduating in just a few months, this song particularly hits close to home, as those of you who personally know me are aware of how notoriously camera-evasive I can be most of the time. A song like "People Take Pictures of Each Other" reminds me that life is too short to let slip, that it's too short to avoid or dodge out of the frame of, and as futile as it seems to try to fit an abstract concept into the inevitably fallible , it'll be worth it someday, somewhere. To someone.

YOU A FOOL FOR THIS ONE.

MegaCon was amazing, as usual; it's nice to have a weekend away from reality.

This weekend was filled with spirits (heightened and filtered) and well as egregious amounts of rap music, freestyling, and personal affronts. And also breakfast spreads that possibly qualify as heaven-sent.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

PS: Dyevushki, soboka.

PPS: Maybe I listen to just a bit too much Ghostface.

(S)elective Memories.

I almost forgot that I had this thing. Life has been...life, and I think I've come to realize that Popeye Doyle could be the greatest fictional character ever.

In lieu of interesting/ exciting/ cliche news about life and how scared I am of the future, I leave you with selective quotes from my favorite person ever, Andrew Tan.

#1)
"Don't Asian people look funny?"
-While watching A Better Tomorrow II and after a Tequila Slammer

#2)
"I'm fucking playing Fake Plastic Trees, you stupid motherfucker!"
-upon being asked by Dominic Tao what he thought he was doing.

#3)
"Let's Go to Krispy Kreme and get some hookers!"
-Upon being asked if cream-filled or jelly-filled hookers were more desirable.

Aside from that, shit is life is shit. At least MegaCon is this weekend. Nothing to take one's mind off of dyevushki like a weekend of friends and people weirder than you.

I'll try to write in this more often, and more importantly, with more "prestigious" content. I'd hate for this to become LJ2.

Wanna give me a job, Someone?