The Two Month Nonsense Continued...

...this past Wednesday, as Banjo attempted to paint some records and draw silly cartoons. Success, however, was not to be found. Mismatched colors, warped records, and uneven, sketchy lines don't make for good art as far as the Banjo is concerned. And as far as he could tell, the only thing that could lift his spirits was some fucking Rock 'n' Roll. And in luck was he, cause one of Rock's most awesome bands happened to be in town that very night. These guys:


Unfortunately, Banjo didn't have a ticket. But worried not was he! For he is king of this land now. And so he set forth to procure tickets. 'Tickets' mind you, as Banjo had acquired accompaniment, of the red-haired variety, along the way. Scalpers were found, of the mustachioed and 'red' sort, tickets were obtained, of the cheaper than face value kind, and the many shades of Rock were experienced. It looked and sounded something like this:

Except, you know, it was WAAAAAY louder...
Video not by Banjo.

Some bands know how to put on a fucking amazing rock show...and some guys know how to kick the piss out of those bands and say, 'this is how you rock, dickless', and proceed to bulldoze your eardrums...the Raconteurs fall in the latter category...seriously, Jack White has two copper-plated guitars! It's Rock! What the fuck else would it be?

So, after the show was over, Banjo and Co. walked outside to find a couple dudes on the sidewalk playing a couple homemade drum sets...mostly consisting of mud buckets, bottles, and oven racks. Talk about rad as shit... A crowd gathered and a guy walked up to give the boys a couple bucks, and in the process, dropped a few bills on the ground. After waiting a few minutes to see if he noticed it, he didn't, Banjo reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. The conversation went something like this:

Banjo: hey, man, you dropped a couple bucks...
Dude: (paused, looked down, picked up the money and looked at Banjo, square in the eye) you know, brah, you a good person. most people, they see that money and they take it and run. but you didn't, you told me about it. any other city in the world and they run, but not here. and if you do that here, you don't belong.
Banjo: uh...right on, man, just looking out
Dude: no other place something like that happen, only here
Banjo: that's why we're in portland, eh?
Dude: yeah yeah, what's yer name?
Banjo: banjo
Dude: i'm twan
Banjo: pleasure
Twan: seriously, banjo, you real good people, you didn't have to do that, but you did, you made a new friend today
Banjo: actually, banjo made two...(motions to the hottie beside him)
Twan: right on. i work down at reggies barber, you come in, come find me, we'll get down.
Banjo: cool
Random Person from Crowd#1: (to banjo) i saw what you did for that man, that was so nice of you
Banjo: yeah, i know
RPC#1: you're a really good person, do you know that? you're beautiful...
Banjo: nice, thanks
Twan: she's right
RPC#2: (to banjo) dude, way to be on the look out. (to a couple people beside him) did you see what this guy did? he told that man he dropped some money instead of running off with it. what's your name?
Banjo: banjo
RPC#2: oh i love the banjo. don't you guys?
Crowd: oh yeah, the banjo is sssooooo sweet, love it, love it
RPC#2: banjo, you're the man
Banjo: yeah...all i did was tell him...
RPC#2: banjo's the man!
Crowd: yeah...yeah
Banjo: well, i do what i can
RPC#3: a saint...
RPC#2: ST. Banjo!
Banjo: hahaha...i mean, YEAH!
Twan: you're like a saint, man
Banjo: i'm a cartoonist
RPC#2: St. Banjo, bearer of cartoons, laughs...and altruism!


Then some asshole tried to steal the bucket of money from the drummers and almost got his faced kicked in. And just before Banjo was ready to spit out the Gospel too...oh well, another time perhaps.

Live Painting

So Banjo had a live painting gig on Saturday afternoon, as part of the "entertainment" section of a large North Portland bloc party called the "Proper Festival." It had something to do with at risk youths, but when prodded and probed by Banjo for information, folks couldn't seem to give the ol' boy an explanation, nor what "Proper" stood for, as it was supposedly and acronym. It was really hot all day and there was no alcohol to be found so this put Banjo in a funk. Anyways, so a bunch of us "Artists", propped our recycled doors up on a fence for some sort of sports oriented field and slung around a bunch of colors. Some of them looked like this:





This was the crowd favorite:


Throughout the day, as one might expect, there was a plethora of children. Many of them wanted to paint on doors themselves, which was highly encouraged and highly entertaining as many of the kids decided it was more fun to paint each other, the grass, or their parents. Some, however, wanted other people to paint doors for them.
Banjo had a conversation with a little boy, his name was Marvin or Melvin or Mervin or something, that went like this:

M: can I paint a door?
B: sure, just ask that nice lady over there, she has everything...
M: i want to paint Obama on it and give it to my grandma
B: i hope she likes Obama
M: she does, she wants to marry him
B: me too
M: what?
B: nothing, that's pretty cool, man, good luck
M: will you help me?
B: uh...sure, what'cha need?
M: i want to write OBAMA in big letters
B: that's it?
M: yeah...but do it with your spray paint
B: wait, you want ME to write it?
M: yeah, i can't use spray paint
B: ah, ok, so just a big Obama written on the door?
M: yeah...
B: ok, let's get a door
M: and then like a bunch of little Obama's written all over too
B: um...why can't you do that part?
M: it's gotta be done with spray paint, duh...
B: silly me
M: so can you do it?
B: yeah...i'll help get you started
M: ok, do like the big Obama and all the little ones
B: wait...
M: and then do like, his face...
B: you want me to paint his face on there too?
M: but it's gotta look real...like him...
B: some people wish that he wasn't real
M: they crazy
B: i know, right?
M: so you'll paint his face?
B: um...so lemme get this straight, you want me to write Obama real big, like the size of the door, and then write a bunch of littler Obama's all around, and then paint a life like portrait of him?
M: and a flag
B: what are you gonna do to it if i'm doing all the rest?
M: give it to my grandma
B: this deal is getting worse and worse, kid
M: but she loves Obama and i wanna give her something with him on it that i did
B: i'm still unsure of what you're actually contributing to this potential piece of art
M: i'm gonna give it to her...and sign my name
B: who're you, andy warhol?
M: who's that?
B: an artist who made a lot of money by telling a lot of people to paint a lot of pictures of soup cans and shit, and then he told everyone he painted them.
M: that sounds lame
B: it kinda was...but he was mad popular, hung out with hot girls, and awesome rock bands
M: i bet they wasn't that hot, if they liked pictures of soup
B: good call
M: so you not gonna paint this door for me?
B: i'll help you, but i won't do it for you. don't you want that satisfaction of doing it yourself and then giving it to your grandma and saying, "i did this for you"?
M: i guess...
B: besides, i still have to finish my door
M: you painted that? [see below]
B: it's not done, but i don't think i want to finish it, i think it kinda sucks
M: man, that's awesome, that purple ghost is fly, and that bomb is cool...is he dreaming or something?
B: uh, yeah actually, he's thinking or dreaming about the book he's reading
M: that's real cool, i like it
B: thanks, i dunno how to finish it though, i was thinking of writing a bunch of text over it
M: like what?
B: ...the specters of the past were buried in the sands of the arabian peninsula. or something like that
M: you sound smart
B: Extremely, cept i can't spell for shit...
M: i can't spell real good either
B: we should be friends then
M: maybe, you gonna paint obama for me?
B: probably not
M: oh...i'm gonna go ask someone else then

That old bastard 'spelling' reared it's ugly head again as Banjo misspelled 'specter' on the fucking thing. Feeling frustrated already and not really wanting to have to go back and correct, he just slapped some paint over it (not pictured) and called it a day. In the end Banjo was mildly satisfied, but more interested in finding a gin and tonic. The door got donated to a local non profit cafe...


Later, it was called the "crowed antagonizer"...

Darnell Mini Comic

As part of the "Two Month Anniversary of Banjo in Portland Extravaganza" that is bound to last until the three month mark, Banjo is kicking off the celebration with the release of his new mini comic! The first collection of Darnell, the Easter Opossum comic strips! They look something like this...



These rad little fucks are only FIVE BUCKS, each with a hand printed cover and hand numbered on the back. Pictured above is part of the first print run, the next run will have a different colored cover, blue or brown perhaps...and if you order by mail, which most of you will probably be doing, then you'll get a fancy-ass envelope that may or may not look like this...
Front

Back

ALL spelling errors will be corrected.
So drop old Banjo a line via that little link that says "other inquiries" and say, "hot damn, Banjo, I need me my comic book fix! What do I do?! What do I DO!?" and Banjo will write back and tell you, it's that goddamn easy.

There's also some extra special art in the back...ooooohhhhhhh...

Get it now! Copies are limited!

Flight of the Easter Opossum

Getting Some Closure

Darnell's Big Day

Another Darnell, just for you!

the goofy ass fanmail Banjo receives he will never understand...

More Adventures in the Rose City

Banjo headed out on the town a few nights past, looking for the cure to that which ailed him. In need was he of trouble, booze, ladies, and rock n roll. He found all at the Doug Fir Lounge. And while the booze was delicious, the ladies were scantily clad, and the air for trouble was ripe with shit-talking, he was treated to a most spectacular broke-down, raunchy, punky-blues, rock 'n' roll one-man-band performance by this guy...





Bob Log III.
"I'm Bob Log and this is my GUITAR! WOOOOOO! GODDAMN!"
And then he TORE it the FUCK UP! on his cheap guitar and foot operated drum kit. Most awesome indeed.
You can find his music here: Bob Log's Myspace Jamboree

And then the show was over. Log left. The wasted, semi-hot ladies that had once dipped their bare breasts in Log's scotch on the rocks whilst on stage, dressed and headed out as well. And so Banjo peaced. Drunk. And awesome. On his fancy bike. And with an impending voyage longer than a live Jimmy Page guitar wank-off. Dreading such an unfortunate affair, Banjo fiercely cursed the night and those that made his Italian legs so damn small. But all was well, as he discovered this magical place on the journey to his new home...



Banjo was low on cash and unfortunately not in the mood for an eight-ball, but he's glad to know such a special place exists so close to home.

HOLY SHIT, NEW DARNELL!!!

And so, more answering of the fanmail via comic strip...

One Month In...

For those of you that don't know, Banjo recently up and moved all the way across the country to the magical fairy land known as Portland, OR. Leaving behind the farm of conception, a plethora of preposterous and stupefying attachments of the human and not-so human, the more plastic or paper, form, and familial bonds of the illest and sensationalized variety, Banjo set forth on a new adventure where he had been only once or twice before. Still a virgin to the leftist coast, the adventure thus far has been a most fantastical success! No God knows what terrifying and astonishing phenomena will befall upon Mr. Banjo in the foreseeable future of his time in the bewitching belt of the pacific northwest.

Upon his arrival:

1. Who knew that lighting someones cigarette would lead to said dude trying to get Banjo to suck his cock? Banjo doesn't play that. Cigarette dude couldn't quite grasp the idea that Banjo doesn't suck the dick and is in fact only "down with the dick" when it's his own.

2. Banjo's first gay wedding attendance. A beautiful and genuine wedding, unlike most he's made appearances at. Everything was hunky dory until someone got the gnarliest of head wounds. That happened to be Banjo. Ouch. There was blood, sweat, tears that were not Banjo's, and the doctoring of the head by a gentle Southern Belle with the most delicate and thorough of hands as she patched up everyone's favorite side-burned jive talker with an Aunt Jemima-style bandana...and a fucking maxi-pad...he still sports the bandana from time to time...

3. Adventures in the hostel. These sort-of never ended. Between the coast guardian neanderthals covered in puke, the grunting and farting gorilla that slept below Banjo for three days and had an obsession with horse-sized pills and plastic grocery bags, to the beautiful Australians...there was something else...but Banjo musta drank that memory away, it was all a ridiculous time...

4. "Hey dude, let me touch whatever moist areas you got! C'mon, I know you got some. You can touch mine!" Banjo replied, "hey dude, get your finger out of my armpit or i'll make that gap in your teeth look like the fucking grand cayon."

5. More Darnell comic strips shall be posted in due time. The scanner was left at home making it harder to get them up, but they are done and ready for people to read 'em! Soon, kids, soon, you'll even be able to have your very own copy of the first 25 comic strips involving everyone's favorite intoxicated rodent as a printing is now in the works. Gotta love them comics!

6. Banjo's first live painting gig. Inspired by past paintings he did with one DrewBarker that was victim of a most rad hatchet throwing incident, and a painting left unfinished that was done in collaboration with Mr. Moss, Banjo set his sights high, combined the two and totally rocked the fuck out of the door seen below...





Check back soon for more shit and possible pics of Portland threads as worn by Banjo.

More Vinyl

Swine Time!