confessions of a nasal mist addict

“your chicklets or your life, mo fo!”

I’m working on it, I’m working on it.  It feels like I’ve dropped trou and I’m running around in my tidy whities like some reject from a Will Ferrell movie.

I originally had the idea of creating this site with the five senses as a metaphor and named the pags accordingly; but the metaphors got mixed so as this writing I’m updating the page names to more ken-bobish appelations in an effort to simplify my quest for content and reduce the confusion for you, my sacred readers.

This is me growing up in Venice and my blogability.  See, Hear, Taste, Touch, Smell will be replaced with EYE CANDY, EAR OINTMENT, COOLINARY, BRAIN FOOD and NEXT and THE BOB OF KEN I’ll keep feeding the monster photography (mine, yours and theirs), music and its related musings, restaurants & recipies, literaure, my own crystal ball about the future and as per my therapists recomendation to satisfy my never ending quest for validation that goes way beyond free parking — a little somethin’ somethin’ for and about me.

As always I’ll be reverant with my irrevrance and wrighteous with my writing and do my level best to be honest with the idea that there’s no brutality in honesty (that’s a warning to those whinning poor me emo types).  So buckle up buckoo’s, quit bitchin’ and be bitchin’ with your pithy retorts and reverberations.  I thrive on abuse.

Cereally yours;