Hey, hey we're the Mansons...
Yes, I'm still here. Yes, I do suck. Very well, thank you.
The boss's pretty face will be all over American television sets next week. Meanwhile, the trains are loading up and the circus is getting ready to hit the road. Won't be much longer now. Daughters, lock up your mothers. Hide the cats and walk the dog...Sorry had a hair band flashback there. Anyway, yeah. Everyone should join us on the tour. You know it's the right thing to do.
Last week, we took a final "let'senjoyeachother'scompanyandhavefunbeforewe'rereallystucktogetherandstartkickingeachother'sasses" vacation in Vegas, minus Dita and Dad, although they were both there in spirit. Dad was even there in money as I played a little blackjack and roulette and bet $250 for him. He lost. *cough* What? Sitting at the tables sipping my watered down martini, I did feel a bit like James Bond, although I'm told I'm more of the Bond villain type. Just as well. Try imagining Sean Connery with a Swedish accent. Doesn't work, does it?
We also saw all the glitzy shows, yet not one of us was brave enough to try to attend the Celine Dion review. However, that Sigfried and Roy are indeed a frightening lovely couple. And no, none of us got hitched while in Sin City, although we did try bribing a chapel owner to marry all of us to one another. At first the poor owner smiled at the funny looking people standing before her, then gradually started reaching for the nearest phone to call the police. Lucky for her, we decided that the hyphenated name would just be too much for any of us to wrap our tiny little heads around, so we left and drank some more. And then we came back to the chapel and tried again. Well, let's just say, the Vegas jail is one of the nicest jails I have ever sobered up in.
The other day I ran across some of the archives from my old website www.skold.com. I got a nostalgic tear in my eye looking through the pages. I had forgotten how much I revamped it before eventually saying, "Ah, fuckit." It wasn't half bad, though. The layout was nice and clean with just the odd epilepsy-inducing animated graphic here and there. Don't bother looking for the site though. That url now goes right to the official Manson site, because that one's got all the information about my current projects, it's laid out much prettier than mine was, and...well, Manson owns my very soul.
This week will be a busy one, but I should be more visible 'round these parts. I'll spend so much quality time with you all, you'll be begging me to leave for Europe.
The boss's pretty face will be all over American television sets next week. Meanwhile, the trains are loading up and the circus is getting ready to hit the road. Won't be much longer now. Daughters, lock up your mothers. Hide the cats and walk the dog...Sorry had a hair band flashback there. Anyway, yeah. Everyone should join us on the tour. You know it's the right thing to do.
Last week, we took a final "let'senjoyeachother'scompanyandhavefunbeforewe'rereallystucktogetherandstartkickingeachother'sasses" vacation in Vegas, minus Dita and Dad, although they were both there in spirit. Dad was even there in money as I played a little blackjack and roulette and bet $250 for him. He lost. *cough* What? Sitting at the tables sipping my watered down martini, I did feel a bit like James Bond, although I'm told I'm more of the Bond villain type. Just as well. Try imagining Sean Connery with a Swedish accent. Doesn't work, does it?
We also saw all the glitzy shows, yet not one of us was brave enough to try to attend the Celine Dion review. However, that Sigfried and Roy are indeed a frightening lovely couple. And no, none of us got hitched while in Sin City, although we did try bribing a chapel owner to marry all of us to one another. At first the poor owner smiled at the funny looking people standing before her, then gradually started reaching for the nearest phone to call the police. Lucky for her, we decided that the hyphenated name would just be too much for any of us to wrap our tiny little heads around, so we left and drank some more. And then we came back to the chapel and tried again. Well, let's just say, the Vegas jail is one of the nicest jails I have ever sobered up in.
The other day I ran across some of the archives from my old website www.skold.com. I got a nostalgic tear in my eye looking through the pages. I had forgotten how much I revamped it before eventually saying, "Ah, fuckit." It wasn't half bad, though. The layout was nice and clean with just the odd epilepsy-inducing animated graphic here and there. Don't bother looking for the site though. That url now goes right to the official Manson site, because that one's got all the information about my current projects, it's laid out much prettier than mine was, and...well, Manson owns my very soul.
This week will be a busy one, but I should be more visible 'round these parts. I'll spend so much quality time with you all, you'll be begging me to leave for Europe.