Must be Mustard Plug, Must Be Skankin' Time

Artwork, By God

The Fashionable Homeless

Drove past three young white kids at an intersection today, two scruffy-faced men probably in their late teens, possibly early twenties, and a thin woman about the same age, her hair in dreads.

The three were standing in a row like those Burma-Shave signs of old, staggered about ten feet apart from one another. As I approached the stoplight the first one I saw was the taller of the two men, and he was holding a sign that read "Newly Homeless - Anything Helps." Then I passed the woman with the dreads and she was holding up a sign with the words "God Bless & Have A Wonderful Day" written on it in flowery script.

The third one, the shorter of the two men, was at the corner, with what looked like three backpacks piled around the bottom of the stoplight pole. I chuckled at his sign when I read it, but as I had to stop for the light I also looked him over a bit. He was dressed in a flannel coat/hoody thing, and was wearing newish jeans - and Vasque hiking boots that looked fairly new. Then I looked back at the young woman and noticed the North Face logo on the back of the jacket she was wearing - and the Vasque hiking boots she also had on. The first man I had passed coming in was too far away for me to see what shoes he was wearing, but I'd bet dollars to tater-tots they were of a similar high-quality, high-dollar brand as Vasque.

"Wow", I thought to myself as I reread the sign of the man standing at the stoplight pole. "We Swear We Won't Spend It On Weed" might be true - but that apparently does not rule out spending it at REI.

Saturday Morning Sunrise, 01 23 2016

He Who Buys What He Doesn't Need...

...steals from himself.

Swedish proverb

Rule Number Seven

For far more years than I care to admit I have been visiting this establishment and I never once noticed rule number seven.

You know what is said about rules that prohibit specific acts? Those rules don't become rules until someone actually commits the specific act.

Crackin' Down

Snake Around My Neck

There's a large slithery snake 

                        Coiled around my neck

And this afternoon it showed it's fangs

Delicately curved, almost graceful in appearance

                As if incapable of inflicting harm

But those fangs, those fangs are hypodermics

Primed with poison

There is no fooling me

          I know I have to take my silvery shiny sharp knife

And cut off that snakes head

Before it has the chance to sink those fangs

                      Deep into my jugular

Flooding my veins with certain death

Of my soul if not my body

Another Afternoon Wasted In The Lakewood Museum Of Discarded Art

Gourmet Snacks, Part I

Damn, that was delicious!

Eat More Junk Food, Exercise A Whole Lot Less

There you go, easiest New Year's resolutions I could imagine. Maybe add "watch a lot more reality television shows" for a trifecta of things that would constitute a recipe for personal disaster.