Touch me. Touch me like you didn't touch me last night.

Originally published at benchilada. You can comment here or there.

…the closer I get to 7pm tomorrow night.

Here’s some Archive Art that is totally related:

Yes, I already pre-bought tickets for the Big-D experience. No way am I risking not getting a ticket when I arrive.

benjamin
Reminding you that maybe there’s a little bit of Godzilla in every one of us

 primavera asked that I do a Hero/Villain drawing of Biollante for them.

Ask, and ye shall receive several years later.

Sorry I had to do it on a completely rubbish scanner.

So, if shopping therapy is supposed to help you when you're kinda down, what sort of therapy is supposed to help when you run out of money?



And yes, of course they're coming out of their packages. I'm a collector of toys, not a toy collector.

Also, I had delicious ramen. Not only was it cooked for me by a cuttlefish...



...but when I was done, I read the ingredients:



MY STOMACH WAS LIKE AN UNDERSEA NOAH'S ARK!

Six animals in one bowl? YES, PLEASE.

EDIT:

Fucking hilarious video about a truly touching friendship:


Godzilla and Anguirus
Uploaded by Godzilla73rules. - Check out other Film & TV videos.

Just found out that on Wednesday, February 8th, Akira Ifukube died. He was 91.

Don't know who he is?

Sure you do.

He wrote this.

b
Off to go script, drink whiskey, and watch Gigan get his ass HANDED to him...

I'm reading a book right now called TOKYOSCOPE: The Japanese Cult Film Companion. As many of you know, I'm ridiculously forgetful. I often forget important things, like my name, whether or not I've eaten today, and if those are my legs.

So when I read a few paragraphs and some event from a dozen years ago flashes into my head, you can see why it might have some small impact. In any event, as I always like to say, "Enjoy or don't." Now here's my self-indulgent poem for your enjoyement.

--- --- --- --- --- ---

HEDORAH

It was
Godzilla
vs.
The Smog Monster
vs.
Brian.

In a hotel, in a strange city, on a show-choir trip, two adolescent urges at war.
On the television, The Smog Monster attacked innocents
Acid burning them to bleached bones.
In the room, I try to decide if Brian is too "cool" for me.
If what happened before, my loss of innocence
Had merely been a small town convenience for him.

I once made the mistake, when several others commented about a girl,
Of saying,
"Well, Brian likes boys, too."
I thought this was normal.
I saw no reason to be shy.
He winced, and raised his finger to his lips,
Shhhhhhhhh.

And so, in my head, giant monsters battle Brian.
Which do I want to see more?
When he leaves the room, will I follow him or the plot?

In the end, I did not pay enough attention to either.
I missed most of the movie.
I missed most of Brian.

Years later I read about the making of the film in a book.
It was a product of the times, full of '60's madness, a heavy-handed environmental message, and it dripped with psychadelic imagery.

Go-go dancing.
Bumbling military men.
Political commentary.
A cult hit.
I remember none of this.

Lesson learned.

I will rent the movie.
I will watch the movie.
And as I watch it, I will repeat to myself:

Boys come and go.
Giant monsters are forever.


benjamin sTone
Urbana, Illinois
12:10am, 05/12/04
Current Music: "Church" by Lyle Lovett
Current Book: God forgive me, it's THE DA VINCI CODE
Current Movie: About to watch OUR LADY OF THE ASSASSINS

---
---
benjamin writes: compositemolecules@yahoogroups.com
everybody responds: dead-horse@yahoogroups.com
Also available online at: http://www.livejournal.com/users/benchilada/