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Strong

offline 117 friends
6 photos in album
joined on 12/27/06
last updated 05/04/08
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My Recent Activity

New Film Being Produced (blog entry) The last movie to be Quigley Cantata Production was in 2004. Now, I am wiser and much more insane. In order to make this movie, I was hoping that everyone who reads this posting will send me their most off-the-wall still images. That's right. T... read more
blog entry posted Sun, May 4, 2008 - 5:44 PM permalink - 0 comments
Me in 2005
photo posted 09/30
Housesitting
photo posted 01/30
At Omega
photo posted 01/11
My buddy Sekaya and I
photo posted 01/02
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Comrades

vision
vision
online 54
Ben
Ben
online 50
Emily
Emily
online 13
Ahn-...
Ahn-Druid
online 228
Tyler
Tyler
online 2
Larry
Larry
online 82
Louis
Louis
offline 89
Bryan
Bryan
offline 7
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Cantata Blog

New Film Being Produced
The last movie to be Quigley Cantata Production was in 2004. Now, I am wiser and much more insane. In order to make this movie, I was hoping that everyone who reads this posting will send me their most off-the-wall still images. That's right. This film shall be composed entirely of YOUR still images. So, the way it works is you mail me your images. Once I have a nice handful of images, I shall write a script, cast the voice actors and then carry on like a regular production. Everyone that sends in their photos, shall get recognition in the credits.

Thanks,
Eric Sazer
Sun, May 4, 2008 - 5:44 PM permalink - 0 comments
 
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Come get the lambs

Gender
Male
about me
Well, lately, I have been a bit lost. Changing my name from Zamboni to Strong Not Wrong is a big deal. You ever change your name from Zamboni to Strong Not Wrong? It can make one feel lost. Not that being a Zamboni made me wrong not strong yet totally directed. But sometimes, I have no idea how to sign my name on checks and letters. I answer the phone not knowing who really has answered the phone. All I know is that I am strong not wrong (yet a bit lost).
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Jack Webber

Forgive me, January
Life with Eleanor has been sucking me dry. In some ways, it's filled with much pleasure (a surprise! She's actually quite good at sexual favors). Mostly though, we're sneaking around town together, avoiding Matthew. It's exhausting.



Soon after we dropped the letter off at Louise's mailbox, Eleanor shrunk to a wild weakness. I comforted the best I could, without touching her, but she insisted on contact. The louse that I am acquiesced. For nearly two weeks, Eleanor and I have been doing things that look like this:



Wed, January 16, 2008 - 10:41 AM permalink
Warning Letter
"Dear Louise," writes Eleanor, "You may not know who I am but I can assure you I've been watching you. Watching you at the various motels around town. Watching you at the Icy Park Ice Cream Shoppe. Watching you lick your lollipop as my husband rubs your knee. Wherever you go, Louise, there I am along with my partner-in-crime, J.T. Webber. He's one dangerous cowboy. One wrong glare into his eyes, can turn you to pudding. I've seen it with my own eyes. And boy that pudding is gourmet. Careful treading, Matthew's wife."
Sat, January 5, 2008 - 7:55 AM permalink
After A Short Hand Holding
Eleanor DiColo is not my type. She walks around the house in flippers as if her house randomly fills up with water. Her manner of speaking can be a bit irritating. She stands before a blackboard, chalking up words of importance.



D.U.I.

3 YEARS

LOUSE



Apparently, Matthew had always been a louse. When they met, he was in bed with another woman. Eleanor was the cleaning woman of the motel. Matthew jumped out of bed and sweet-talked Eleanor. Sooner than later, that other woman grew furious and left half-naked. It didn't matter, according to Matthew, the woman was unhappily married. Plus, she hit on him...payed for the hotel room...and ordered drinks. Eleanor, drunk at that time, found the whole thing humorous. Days later, Eleanor found herself falling for Matthew. In their three years together, Matthew proceeded to flirt with other women, obtain a D.U.I. and hell, once he could no longer drive, he walked everywhere, vandalizing churches, exposing himself to old ladies...the list goes on.



What it boils down to it, Matthew is more my kind of guy than Eleanor. That is if Eleanor was a guy. Tomorrow, Matthew and I shall hold a pissing contest in the county's oldest graveyard.
Wed, January 2, 2008 - 7:33 PM permalink
DiColo-Raffle# 91211
Sixteen chickens (live and wandering aimlessly. Pecking at feet). Photographs of multi-generational editors hard at work before their Steenbecks. Cocktails and hors d'œuvres served till 5 AM. Topless optional, bottomless required. Fathers making out with daughter's best friends. Mothers revealing breasts to PTA officials. A raffle was held. The winner could take home anybody. The winner, a "Matthew DiColo, that's Matthew DiColo. Is Matthew DiColo here? That's D-i-C-O-L-O. Raffle number 9-1-2-1-1. That's 9-1-2-1-1," well this winner had passed out cold against the bathroom door. There were attempts to awaken this Matthew DiColo but no, he just vomited on anyone at arm's reach. The host offered Matthew DiColo a rain ticket for next year's event into 2009. Next name called. "Jack Webber! That's Jack Webber!" I looked hard around the room and finally decided to take home Matthew DiColo. On the way, he hummed twelve original songs. "Nobody's ever heard these before...fuck, nobody. Not even my wife." He passed out on his driveway. His wife, although nineteen pounds overweight and adorned in a mess of tattoos, was a knockout. She confessed, once Matthew was tucked-in, that their marriage had been on the rocks and thought for sure he would kill himself at midnight. Before leaving, she demanded a kiss. "Please, Jack, a kiss before I am either a widow or a corpse." I held her hand...
Tue, January 1, 2008 - 9:22 AM permalink
When There's No Structure
...there's a door jamb. Its relevance reduced to zero. Why enter a door that barely an air molecule can work its way through? All the subsequent doors also suffer from a jam. There's a long hallway with apparently little to do. The lighting is comfortable. The hard floor proves strangely warm. Are there heating elements within the tiles? It would be nice to meet the individual that placed such heating elements within these tiles, if heating elements happen to be within the tiles. Upon deciding that as a possible quest, searching for the heating element installer, a door opens. Walking inside for not even ten seconds, it is revealed that this room has just as much purpose as standing before a door suffering from a jam.
Sun, December 30, 2007 - 10:28 AM permalink
originally published at Jack Webber
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