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For those of you wondering how I create my artwork... here is a visual explanation. I can't give away all of my secrets, but I can give you a basic idea.

So far, only one person has left a comment on my blog (this is obviously outdated… thanks to the three other people who’ve commented since…), but in person and on facebook I’ve gotten plenty feedback; some good, some not so good. One person said “I sound like a white girl.” I don’t know what that means. I like to make fun of the way people “talk” when they write in “textese.” Yes, that is the actual term for the cultural phenomenon that is horrible grammar, awful spelling, and ridiculous acronyms. smh. Sometimes I’ll even say “lol” out loud… but never seriously. Most of what I write is written in a very sarcastic, but endearing tone because that is the sort of person I am.

Speaking of bad grammar, I asked a close friend to proof-read my blog for typos and what not. Her response after reading my first few posts, “I really like your blog. There are a few mistakes, nothing major.” Nothing major??!! No, not at all… just that I spelled the title of the blog completely wrong. FYI, “asterisk” is NOT spelled “asterick.” Thanks for telling me…

Other responses have been along the lines of “keep writing…” “It’s very informative…” etc, etc, etc. I’m just wondering why nobody has commented on the art that I so painstakingly created using the effin Microsoft Paint program. No, I didn’t steal those images from someone else online. No, I don’t know how to use Photoshop or InDesign or any other program well enough to make my work look anything less than amateur. And no, I don’t have one of the drawing pads you attach to your computer that writes like an inkless pen… I use the mouse. That means a lot of mistakes and a lot of editing and a lot of hours starring at the computer; which also means terrible migraines all day long. And not one person cares to comment… wait, no, that’s not completely true. A facebook friend “liked” my Jim Morrison picture. Thanks Cheyenne. I hope I spelled your name correctly, I know how creative black people can get with words and names and shit.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t just want congratulatory feedback. That’s boring. While I appreciate the support, I adore constructive criticism. And don’t be vague, really explain what you love or absolutely hate about my blog. That way I can make it better … or just say “fuck your life” and move on. Truthfully, any kind of feedback is highly appreciated. I’m just saying, if you have any sort of sentiment about what I write, please leave a comment. #thatisall



Ask A Hater aka My Thoughts While in the Shower

disclaimer: this post is literally what I was thinking while in the shower… I thought it… and then I wrote it down. I occasionally write down my thoughts in attempt to find the original thought; the catalyst that causes the domino effect of thoughts that follow. I was basically trying to prove that I don’t have ADD… or maybe that I do.  It’s an experimental piece, and will probably be the first and last of its kind. 

I don’t remember which thought lead to me thinking about how much of a critic I am; about how there is nothing I don’t have an opinion about. Which lead to me self-editing my thoughts on behalf of my conscience, which serves as the conscience of public opinion, which lead me to paranoidly (I know, that’s not a word) self-edit my thoughts with lead me to think of my criticism as being above reproach  and as being neither positive or negative; or rather both positive and negative… not negative, but constructive… or rather reflexive; something I can’t help but to do. Which lead me think of how all journalists or critics are just inactive thinkers; they [we] don’t do anything but comment on what other people do; which lead me to think that I actually do a lot, however unwillingly. I am not completely untalented and inactive. Or rather, maybe, I’ve [somehow] successfully tricked others into believing that I am not lazy. If I had my choice, I’d rather be by myself, alone, in a secluded location making art. And somewhere in all of this my thoughts drifted to John Travolta and Nicholas Cage… blog post coming soon; think Conair and Face/Off.



So, recently I opened a few cafepress stores featuring some of the artwork shown on this blog (content currently not available) as well as my new “GET ME BODDIED” campaign featuring some really great paraphernalia of great movie stills/fashion icons/music legends embossed with my new blog motto: “Get.Me.BODDiED!” As you know, I sign all of my posts as “M.BODDi.” It’s my pseudonym, although most of you who read this know me personally and know my government. However, you probably don’t know that I hate my surname… I absolutely despise my slave name and eventually will discontinue using it. I’m not trying to justify the fact that I like to play pretend sometimes… that is not the point of this post… I was merely trying to illustrate the origin of my new slogan. So, ’nuff of dat.

Due to my interpretation of the copyright laws, I make no profit from all of the products featuring the new slogan. It’s as if you saw an image on the internet and you thought is would look nice on a t-shirt or something. So you put it on a t-shirt and only you wear it so everybody can think you’re cool. You just paid for the production costs… and that’s is exactly what you’re paying for if you purchase an image from my cafepress shop[s] with the new slogan: the production price. If anybody is making money, it’s cafepress… and if they get sued, that’s their problem. suckaz!!! I’m only about 75% sure that all of that info is correct.

Anyway, if you like the images posted below… buy some stickers… or a poster… or a stadium blanket and spread the word!!! My goal is to eventually have at least one image available on cafepress that will coincide with each blog post. All my original artwork will be available at a mark up price so that I can make at least a little bit of money to upgrade my cafepress shop[s]… or… better yet… get my own website that will have its own online shop, blog, and what ever else I can think of. That’d be freakin’ fantasmagoric!! But in the mean time, if you have any comments about the shop[s] or would like a custom-made product… shoot me an email at Thanks!!!


“Two Tears in a Bucket, Mother Fuck It…”

The Lady Chablis by M.BODDi

This film is listed under my favorite movies category in the “About Me” section on facebook, and has been there since I joined

Actor/Director Clint Eastwood

facebook in 2006 as was requested by the college I attended. This is quite possibly the most underrated Clint Eastwood film ever… in fact, I didn’t even know he directed it until recently, or that his daughter Allison Eastwood played leading lady Mandy Nicholls.

I’m not surprised this movie wasn’t a box office hit… the title is too long, despite the book being a popular non-fiction novel, not many people know about the events it was based on, who lady Chablis is, or what the hell is an Uga. And this was all way before Million Dollar Baby and that other movie about Clint Eastwood beating up Asians in L.A. I mean, he didn’t really have the same reputation as a director back then as he does now. And the quality of his work hasn’t much changed, just the collective mood… I guess.

Anyway, you may be asking yourself, why is this movie “so gay”? Hmmmm… there is the plot for one. The story takes place in conservative Savannah, Georgia, actually more quaint than conservative… but still not tolerant of overt homosexuality, which is in itself very gay. Kevin spacey plays Jim Williams who murders his prostitute boyfriend Billy Hanson (Jude Law). This is the catalyst for a series of court sessions and events that writer John Kelso (John Cusack) is covering for the book he is writing. Cusack sort of goes on a little investigation to help prove Spacey killed in self defense and not cold blooded murder. His pursuit introduces us to some of the most interesting characters in the movie including local drag queen The Lady Chablis.

Despite the ominous theme of murder, the movie is very blithe in nature and very reflective of the people living in Savannah… it’s as if they’re all in on some secret joke that you don’t know and that has no obvious punch line. They’re a little sardonic that way. There is naturally some voodoo incorporated in the plot and a little mysticism regarding the existence of the afterlife… a revenge of the living dead sort of thing.

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil has all the makings of a great movie: a shockingly convincing transsexual, ghosts, murder, gossip, great court scenes (more humorous than Law & Order, but still very suspenseful and thrilling), antique art, and that good ol’ Spacey panache. I mean… my point is, Kevin Spacey rarely ever disappoints. Some marvel at his likeness to the actual Jim Williams… I marvel at his likeness to the Mr. Monopoly (Rich Uncle Pennybags) and the Pringles guy.







What the fuck is a “Door” ?

Well, I don’t really know where the name came from, hence why I’ve done some wikiresearch (I predict the credibility of my blog plummeting after this post). The name of the band comes from a line in the William Blake poem The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, “When the doors of perception are cleansed, things will appear to men as they truly are… infinite.” Now, exactly what that

Red Dragon by William Blake

mean, I do not know. But it sounds deep and poetic and philosophical and beyond my comprehension… or anybody’s really; unless you’re William Blake, or you’re on drugs, which pretty much sums up the cultural phenomenon known as the 60s. Out of context of the entire poem, no… the line itself doesn’t make any sense. I couldn’t find the actual poem online (which is more like a tome), but I did find this weird YouTube video and… I still don’t get it. But hey… William Blake… I know him, an entire trilogy was based on this epic poem (Manhunter, Silence of the Lambs, Red Dragon)… and if I were tripping on LSD I could rap off the name alone, and the hidden connotations and how it is all an aphorism for life… like man, the doors… are… open… and they’ve been cleansed. You and me… we are the answer man, now is the time… do you see? Wow, the spirit of Ken Kesey was speaking through me for two seconds.. that whole intersubjectivity thing Tom Wolfe wrote about… um… yeah…