Today's Mailbag: "Senior Scan"

I dressed like a cholo for the pic.

First person to ID me in the comments gets a gift.

If you clicky, it gets biggie.

Night Marchers --UPDATE--

The BDW remixes:

Today's Mailbag: "Shitty Scan"

This gem came to me today via the World Wide emailings titled, "Shitty Scan."

It's me, Ellen (right) and "Sidiki" in Athens, Ohio in...oh god, 1993 or 1994.

Alls I remember from this trip is having had to drive through West Virginia seeing the remnants of what happens when an auto-carrier full of minivans accidentally drops one from the top on the interstate. Now I know what that's like.

San Francisco McKenzie was with us as well somehow. We were driving a rented Lincoln Towncar. Ellen's like six feet tall. "Sidiki" isn't.


When Robots Attack

Back to the Biz

Phase I - Done

Bed finished with all the "old junk" below.

Now to make a desk...and bookcases...and all the rest of the stuff.

Final Assembly

Part Two

[Part 1]


Sunday Worship

The Great American Family, Etc.

Light at the End of the Forest; for the Trees

Whipped! Failed!


The Last Thing To See


I Was Incredible Last Week Now I'm Once Again the Same Mope I Always Was

[cue: Soundgarden's Down on the Upside from 1996 - full album]

How quickly things can change. Remember just not so long ago when just the words "President Obama" seemed so unutterably foreign? Not the concept of having a black elitist socialist Muslim liberal eco-terrorist golfing president of the United States of America, but just the rhythm and cadence of the words "president" and "Obama." Is it Japanese or Kenyan? We're all used to it now.

Just like we're all used to being married, having children, the post-9/11 WarOnTerror® America, and flying cars they promised us in grade school (we'd use the metric system to design them). Meh, right? Humans adapt fast and in "these ever-changing times" we adapt faster than ever.

Just last night my wifey said (in her heavy Israeli-or-is-that-Italian accent) of a recent born child of friends, "You know when she's our kid's age, our kid will be 16." I made the usual jokes about "our kid" hopefully being in college or maybe she'll clean her bathroom by then but my internal Math & Science department clocks were busy calculating +8 to my current living age and, EGADS GODDAMN!, I'll be 52 in the years old field!

Wow, so I'm on the cusp of 50?

That rules! I win!

Gotcha! You thought I was going to typewrite some mid-life, lamenting, naval gaze bullshit about aging and glory days and times-gone-by. Nope, fuck that waste of typewriting. My only thought about being 52 is how fucking rad I'll be! I've been "just coming into my prime" for like 15 years now. I'm about 95% the same now as I was eight years ago, and I'll probably be 96% the same in eight years as I am now.


Most people who know me know that I've pretty much been the same crabby kook since forever. I may find something different to tinker with from time to time or technology will change something from under my feet, but for the most part I am t-shirt, shorts, skateboard shoes, quirky socks, camera, audio recorder, mayhem, and sociopathologically narcissistic desire to create stuff that like 2-4 people will ever give a shit about.*

What the hell am I talking about? It's a cross between an elephant and a rhinoceros.**

Hi! I'm Ty and I'll be famous when I'm dead. And 50 is just one giant leap closer!***

* The 2-4 number is an example of the sociopathologically narcissistic ego-inflating hyperbole. The actual number is documented to be statistically zero.

** Elephino.

*** Oh no he di-ent.


GUEST POST: Helen from Oregon

Helen's car got busted into the other day and she recovered this gem. It says:
Rad. Genius. Beautiful.

Speaking of beautiful, see this [clicky] and comment.

Shop Shots

Manniyer's Special Stain