I was searching through all of my old photos and came across some gems. Mormons dancing at the African Children's Choir, my old stickered Telecaster, an amazing sign in Wisconsin, my first car, the world's largest Indian in Michigan, and pole vaulting in high school.

A Charred Aorta

NYC - After years of strife between acid-reflux sufferers and the pharmaceutical giant Pfizer, a breakthrough early this week may have settled an age-old dispute. Rolaids in fact does not spell relief, alphabetically or otherwise.

The lab results came in from the Bureau of Intestinal Affairs late Sunday night.

"We'd always thought there was something fishy about...that product" said Dr. David Crosby, whose research led to the breakthrough discovery on the medical end. "But hell, who am I to say what spells relief? I'm a doctor, not a...a word guy. We just know that it don't work."

Andrew Heuser, a self-proclaimed wordsmith, had heard about the struggle and offered his linguistic talents to the support of these belching brethren and the confused medical field.

"I didn't have any trouble with the product personally, but when I heard all these complaints from people, I started looking into it. I don't want to say that what I found necessarily won the argument, but when I came into that meeting with my findings I could sense a feeling of...of... despair in those corporate monkeys."

Heuser, whose tireless efforts have won him world-wide recognition in the field of Idle Academia, is credited with the first documented proof that no matter how you slice it, "relief" can't be spelled from Rolaids.

Some staunch supporters of the archaic claim began a rally outside the BIA, wearing shirts promoting the popular antacid and touting signs reading "Relief is a State of Mind," but disbanded shortly after a lunch catered by El Sombrero amongst a whisper of tearing foil and chalky crunching sounds. No comments were offered for the group's departure.

Zie Germans

I think that this is hilarious.

Moscow Mountain

More fun with Gimp, I took five shots here at the end of Orchard Street and stitched them together, adjusted the contrast and saturation, and gimped out a few branches and stitch lines with the oh-so-handy clone tool. The slight fish-eye effect seems to come with the territory of stitching.

Tonight...

As Long as it's the Goodest...

The Slow Descent

1. The Dress T-Shirt - These are the shirts that are unblemished and fit appropriately, usually with that soft feel you can only get with that 15 year-old blend of cotton and polyester. If they do have irregularities, they add to the overall charm and hipness, as I see it. Often used as an undershirt; in the off-chance that the outer layer must be removed, fashion will remain.

2. The Work T-Shirt - Shirts that have suffered a permanently disfiguring moment, or were never really that dear to my heart, but that I still find cool enough to wear outside of my home. This group is rife with the once awesome ringer-t.

3. The Only Wear to Sleep T-Shirt - A few have made it to this category after starting as a Dress-T, but usually these shirts are the ones that had that neckhole that was just a bit too large, the sleeves that kinda poofed out and further humiliated my poor arms, or just didn't have a humorous/retro enough design.

4. The Now You're a Rag Cleaning My Bike Chain Shirt - Avalon for t-shirts. They never die here, but are instead put to a final, never-ending task. The lucky ones enter this blissful state immediately following an arm or head being put through a hole that didn't exist at the shirt's birth.

If You're Into That Sort of Thing....

There are a pair of wing-tipped Beatle-boots at the Goodwill that are just a hair too small for me. My guess is about a 9.5, for $14.99. And they're in the normal spot where all the great men's shoes are found: the women's shoe section. Also, if you're the tiniest man/boy in town, there are some amazing Levi's "Sta-Prest" slacks that sport faux-corduroy and perma-creases and a 28-inch waist. I couldn't quite pull them off and not feel like an indie metro. But hey, if you can rock em or like dressing like a girl, hit it.


For myself, a new translation of Anna Karenina for .99 and a pat on the back for my most heavily hyphenated post to date.

Scuttling Tick

What the deuce is this?

Racism Revealed

We kicked off Black History Month with a viewing of Song of the South last night. I think that now I understand where all the controversy over racism in the movie came from, and I must say, I am a bit offended. I mean, didn't Disney know that they could be stigmatizing an entire race of people for generations to come? Sure, we crackers may have worn knickers and lace collars in the past, but now we've got it together, man. It's not fair to judge us by our lameness back then. SotS unfairly portrays white people as spoiled, obnoxious brats with little to no sense of style, and I have to overcome that obstacle every day I stand in front of the mirror before leaving home. Sometimes all I can see is a privileged, unhip sucka, and it's almost too much to bear...

Also, found this satire of Song of the South on the Wiki called Coonskin. Looks crazy.