A Visual Introduction to Freelance Blogger Brandon K
Hello GBF people. I've posted a handful of blogs and made a video with Sandman as the coolest guy he knew for a week. But to many of you, I'm probably still an enigma.
My interests are not just brutal music and disgusting things. This visual journey may help acquaint you with my life a bit more.
This is me at my other job that isn't 103GBF. This is my authoritative look. The glasses low on my nose also lend a greater ability to analyze important spreadsheets and e-mails that are integral to middle management. It was cold that day, hence the popped collar to warm my neck, not because I'm a hipster douche.
Look! It's me at an Evansville Iceman game in the CH Robinson suite at the Ford Center, posing with my friend's uncle and the mascot, which I'm unsure as to what the mascot really is. A bear? I know it cost us like $72 bucks for a twelve pack of Corona cans. Great fun had by all.
This is me and my wife, Red, at my cousin's wedding. We've been together for what feels like forever. We only want to kill each other about 20 percent of the time. And no I'm not wearing a tie. It was hot as balls in long underwear on a hot summer day, so I wore shorts and a t-shirt. Suck it, formality.
My wife Red and I have two kids. Alix and Xander. Here they are trying on their new Halloween costumes. Alix is a raccoon and Xander is a cop. He kind of looks like a constable. Alix is also going to drag a garbage can around with her to collect candy and later rummage through it in her raccoon outfit, because that's what raccoons do. And if her brother, the constable, tries to take any of her garbage can candy, I'm sure she'll hiss and bite him and give him rabies.
Here is my son Xander toting around the Sno Cone girl by the Hornet's Nest in his motorized cop car that Red's parents got for him. He's four-years-old. When I was four, I was playing with Legos and Matchbox cars by myself, not having high school girls fawn over me. This proves, my son (and my daughter) are way cooler than me.
This is Red's dog that I agreed to let her have in exchange for my expensive Dr. Dashboard stereo system. She didn't want me to have my stereo; I didn't want the dog. But we compromised. He was manageable at this size and totally cute, although he wasn't trained to excrete his waste outside at this point. Ugh, the messes. Hello Resolve.
Here is Red's dog now. His name is Jack Sit Down! He's a couple years old and nearly 70 pounds. He's trained well to excrete outdoors, yet can't stop from helping himself to a turd or two from the cats litter box on the way outside. He is gross. We usually thwart his efforts, but I decided to snap a pic here.
- The famous cats, Mr. Fantastic and Dr. Bill Nana. Mr. is the orange and white fatty, and Bill is the trim gray cat, although the veterinarian Dr. Rita says Bill is overweight. I'll take her word for it (I copied off of her impeccable work in high school accounting class because she always got 100 percent). They are fighting on the dog's bed, which happened after they groomed each others heads. Usual cat banter. The dog bed is no more because Jack Sit Down! chewed off the corner, ate the stuffing inside and would hump it instead of relax on it.
This is the demolition derby car I ran at the Vanderburgh County 4H Fair this year. I've been participating in demolition derbies and enduro races in some capacity since I was 17. I've won money and have done well on many occasions (even winning a few times). I can't build the cars for shit (my dad and step brother do that), but I love driving as fast as I can and hitting people in other cars as hard as possible. I crave total destruction--to my car and anyone in my path. I didn't have much luck in this hand-me-down wagon as the engine shit out on me after I initiated one good hit.
This is a gun. I do not own any guns. It belongs to my best friend from not GBF work. Her husband has a motorcycle and they are in a motorcycle gang. I'm not sure which one. I also believe they carry chains and clubs with them on their travels and I imagine it's like the video game Road Rash that I used to play on Sega Genesis when they traverse across the country.
This is the last picture I will show you, dear audience. It's of a stranger on a moped (not in a bike gang) sitting in front of us at a red light. His shirt is BADASS. I nearly exited our vehicle to approach him about bartering a shirt for shirt trade or buying it outright off of him. Red convinced me otherwise. But if I see this guy again...
So there's a bit more about me, a few more layers peeled back. Yes, I love brutal metal bands like Devour the Unborn and writing about gross, horrific things, but I also love to read books of all variety (more like collect them since I don't have time to read).
I have two tattoos, both on my chest. I have four pairs of Sperrys and countless other shoes, I enjoy electronic and rap music and stuff from bands like Warpaint and Modest Mouse and 311. And at 34, I have many gray hairs (some have been colored back to brown).
I'm a Ball State University graduate with a degree in something I wish I didn't have...advertising. I have an older cousin that's now an English professor at our alma mater BSU; she's a literary genius compared to me. I write about excrement and cats and puke and use curse words--she gets published in academic journals. She's married to a British guy with nice teeth that kind of looks like Andy Murray. I've been told I'll never be famous and I've also been told I'll be something special...but I feel like I'm running out of time for the latter.
I am who I am. And hopefully you, GBF audience, now know a bit more about me and enjoy reading what I write for you. And as long as I don't get shit-canned, I'll continue putting forth my best effort to entertain you. Oh yeah, please comment...praises or tomatoes.