blog archives

Recommended Weblogs of Equal or Lesser Value
davezilla
Heart Failure
How Not To Fly
Ludic Log
Mirth&Musings
Monkey Cage
PeteAccordingToMe
Porn Clerk Girl
Random Acts of Reality
Stacey Nightmare

Good-N-Plenty Sites of Interest
Bob from Accounting
Bushisms
Church Sign Generator
Jim Goad
Modern Drunkard
Rant of the Week
Retro Future
'Salon Apocalypse'
Slash & Burn

BLOGOSPHERE News & Reviews

BlogCritics

Alpha Bloggers
Blogging as Journalism
Starting a Blog
You've Got Blog

31 Flavors of Blog
Weblog Review

Confessions of an Internet Junkie!
My 'Generic Blog'

Pete Media
Pete Vs. the Virgin Mary ('89), then...
...'New Times' calls Pete a 'creep'('97)
Yucca Video/TV Clip
Pete out-predicts Psychics ('99)
Pete's research quoted in 'Earth Changes' book ('01)
Art For Pete's Sake ('03)
MEDIA PETROS

Cool Comix, Fun Flix & Groovy Tunes
Day by Day
Red Meat
Way Lay

I, Doll
Rainbow TV

Resonance Radio
Strangely Familiar

Damn Fine Art
Sarina Brewer
Joe Coleman
David Ho
Jenny Ignaszewski
ManWoman
Mark Mothersbaugh
Pete Petrisko
Mark Ryden
Isabel Samaras
Shag
Chris Winkler
Joel-Peter Witkin

Web Cam Fun!
Bubble Cam
Continental Drift Cam
Deformed Frog Cam
JFK Assassin Cam
Peeling Paint Cam

contact...
Email Pete about the world. He might reply. All work herein (c) 2002-2004 by Peter Petrisko

[[ PLEASE DON'T TOUCH THE WRITER ]]

I went down to CounterCulture Cafe last night and read during its weekly Speak Up! open mic event.

As I was leaving, too many people I didn't know wanted to tell me how much they loved what I read - which isn't bad in itself - but they would start touching me as they said this. But it wasn't a "bad" touch, which can be so good, just weird random touches on my shoulder or arm.

I think I still remember those oh-so-good "bad" touches – or at least have a vague recollection – so I'm pretty sure those weren't them.

You'd think I'd get use to this kind of behavior.

It's happened at a public park, convenience stores, bars and restaurants. I think restaurants are the worse because, again, there is usually some touching involved. Mostly hand shaking, and it always seems to happen right after I start eating so you know what that means. After the person walks away, I have to subtly leave the table to go wash my hands again before I can finish eating. I don't know where those hand-shaking hands have been and I'm not taking any chances.

I once had a homeless man come up to me and ask if I still read locally. He said he had seen me and really dug what I had to say, then quoted some of my work. He followed that up with another question: "So, can you spare any change?" Then there was the time I was using a crosswalk and, as I crossed, a guy in the car waiting for the light to change started shouting, "Pete! Aren't you Pete? I love what you do, man!" That one hit me head-on and I never saw it coming.

Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate the compliments and if I can get away with a simple "thanks" I will. But sometimes people will want to talk about this piece or that. So that's when I usually tell them I don't actually read my work I simply write it, and with each letter I type I forget the one preceding it, but if they want to fill in the details about what they've read I might be willing to discuss it. In the ensuing moment of the inevitable perplexed look, I quietly slip away.

All this undue attention makes me nervous.

Why?

Because I'm very very shy.

[]

posted by Pete 11:35 PM

[[ IN CASE OF MY DISAPPEARANCE ]]

The case of missing Virginia Commonwealth University student Taylor Behl was solved, in large part, due to her online activities. According to police, the Internet “has emerged as a virtual tip machine that often maps the course of an investigation.”

For better or worse, investigators now use Googling and comb through public weblogs to gather information on both suspects and crime victims. Behl, whose remains were found a month after her disappearance, had a blog on livejournal and an account on myspace.com. In fact, the alleged killer was among her 92 myspace “friends”.

In case of my own untimely disappearance, I leave the following clues. It is a mix of truth, half-truths, and bold-faced lies. Any police investigator worth his salt should be able to suss out fact from fiction and solve the case of my disappearance - or at least find my decomposing body…

A girlfriend of mine wasn’t too pleased with the world according to Pete – at least according to her. So she dumped me, quit her job, and ran off with an ex-convict. They were just like Bonnie and Clyde and we all know how that one turned out. Luckily her car broke down. That’s what we call “delaying the inevitable.” Now that I’ve mentioned all of this, she might one day be a lead. But I doubt it because, obviously, she’s willing to settle.

I once killed a giraffe with my bare hands. Before you judge me, I think you should know he was pretty much asking for it - acting like he owned the whole goddamn savannah, throwing his weight around, putting on airs just because he could eat the highest-most leaves on the tree. Ok, maybe things got a little out of hand, but you know... shit happens... and the next thing you know, you've got a dead mammal on your hands. The rest of the herd witnessed my transgression but stood mutely by as it happened. However, giraffes have long memories. They’re no elephants, but still…

I’ve been seeing a married woman. I hope her husband never ever finds out. That could be bad.

I was recently hanging out at a coffeehouse with some friends when this guy announced, “I haven’t had sex in a year! I need to get laid.” So I asked him, “What, is your hand broken?” He was so pissed off that he refused to shake my hand when I left. Which is probably a good thing, considering.

I am a freak magnet. No matter where I go, the one nut-job nearby will gravitate towards me and start a conversation. I do not encourage this but it still happens. The talk will eventually turn to mind control, CIA operatives, conversations with Jesus, acid flashbacks, or alien abduction - or quite possibly some combination thereof. I also have the bad habit of laughing at the most inappropriate times, like during very serious conversations with nut-jobs. That is a recipe for disaster in my book.

I have way too many compromising photos of former lovers. While I would never share them with anybody, the police don’t know that. Note to investigators – check the hard drive.

I am addicted to caffeine. This will only lead to serious trouble.

I got into an argument with a mime that has Tourettes Syndrome. The argument was rather one-sided. But he kept mouthing obscenities at me and I can read lips so it only escalated from there. Finally I punched him in the face. Amazingly, he didn’t scream. However he did writhe around on the ground and mimed hurts like hell brilliantly.

I’ve received email death-threats in the past because of things I’ve written. I’ve never taken those too seriously and probably never will - at least until somebody makes good on it. It’ll probably be too late at that point, huh?

I was chatting with a female friend of mine the other night while she waited for her date to arrive. She kept going on and on about how wonderful this guy was. So I said, “Didn’t you say that about the last guy you were seeing? How did that turn out?” She replied, “Fuck off” or something to that effect because, after all, he turned out to be an asshole and the break-up was rather messy. She’s one of those quiet-types. We all know about those quiet-types, but not until seeing them on the news after they’ve committed some heinous crime. This worries me.

I think one of my “friends” on myspace may be obsessed with me and could possibly have stalker aspirations. Sadly, it’s not the “friend” I was hoping it would be.

With clues like that it should be a snap to crack the case of my untimely disappearance. It’s nothing a little money and man-power, on the part of the police department, can’t solve.

[]

posted by Pete 3:06 PM

[[ The Dying ]]

Too many people are dying around me.

Last night I went to this bar for a memorial service. You'd think that would be an odd choice for such a service but not if you knew the deceased.

"Let's all meet at the bar and get really fucked up. Why? Because Don would've wanted it that way!"

He would've been so disappointed in me - I never even had a drink.

I saw his brother there from across the bar but didn't go over to say anything. I don't know him that well and what am I suppose to say?

"Sorry."

Like he hasn't heard that a thousand times in the last week or two.

I almost didn't go. I was still reeling from the phone call, in which I found out another friend died earlier this week. I'm going to his memorial service on Monday.

The power went out when I got home. So I went to sleep and woke up later with lights on. None of the clocks have been reset. It is a timeless moment.

My cat smells like dust. She's been very vocal these last few days. I think she's been trying to tell me something but I don't speak feline fluently. However I'm beginning to understand her mewling.

She'll sit in the window for a while then come over and whisper in my ear.

"I see Death on the street below."

Right now I'm sitting here eating cottage cheese.

When I was little and felt bad, my grandma would give me a bowl of cottage cheese. It was comfort food.

My bowl is almost empty now.

I might need more cottage cheese.

posted by Pete 5:28 AM

home