Bobert Flotsam Presents the Travis Bickle Phenom Day 1 (Sponsored by Taco Schnell)

Hello. My name is Bobert Flotsam. I'm a blog maker. I make a lot of food blogs. That little block of cheese that chases the ham underneath the rye bread? That was mine. In 1996, I went down to McAwesomeland, Frank Lloyd Wright City to a rock club called the Schmelectric Bandana. Don't look for it, it's not there anymore. But that night I heard the ravings of a man that for me redefined the word "paranoid schizophrenic". I remember being knocked out by his exuberance, his raw power -- and his punctuality. That man was Titanium Alley's now-legendary Travis Bickle. Ten years and fifteen Phenomena later, Travis Bickle is still going strong, and he's earned a distinguished place in ranting history as one of Titanium Alley's loudest ravers. So in the late fall of 2006 when I heard that Bick was releasing a new Phenomenon called 'Sell Your Gold and Own A Rock' and was planning his first tour of the United States in almost 3 years to promote it, well needless to say I jumped at the chance to make the documentary, the, if you will, blogumentary that you're about to witness. I wanted to capture the sights, the sounds, the schmells, of a hard-working psychotic on the road. And I got that. But I got more, a lot more. But hey -- enough of my yakkin'. Whaddaya say, let's boogie!


Over the course of the last few weeks, I have been schmelled up here in the late Antonius's dilapidated home. The dry wall seems to be leaking rotten fish, the couch left behind has a microcosm of the rain forest which seems to dislike it when I attempt to sleep there, and the blinds are rotting; everything is rotting. I was informed that the inside of your retinas are actually rotting and that is why separation occurs.

So, I went through the whole guilt thing, but then again, she decided long before me. And I was the one that said not to, and she went and did it anyways. That's why I don't really care anymore. I'm just doing what I'm doing when I'm doing it, unless I'm not doing it, and in that case, I'm not doing it.

I went to the store the other day to buy some ice cream and some neosporin, and there was this girl, lady, female human, that appeared quite illustrious and beautiful. She kept calling me "Sweetie." I found it endearing and intolerable at the same time. I mumbled under my breath that I loved her as I gave her the finger.

I walked to the post office to buy some stamps, but only at the moment of reaching their door did I realize that it was after midnight and that buying stamps might not be on the plate. I went to the fire department and sat around a while inside the fire truck before I walked to the aquarium store. I looked inside the window, and noticed all the fish. Do store fish have mercury? Apparently, most fish in the world have it, but do harvested store fish have it? Mercurial water should be paired with Ambrosia and fed to the Kings and Queens of those hierarchical African lands.

In my formative years, I drank rum.