Saturday, February 28, 2009

stormchaser

In Memory of Brother Dub,
sucked a'Heaven in the Year of Our Lord, 2009.

Friday, February 27, 2009

In the Year 2000

Things will appear as if they occurred nine years in the future and won't be funny anymore.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

tight fit

I'm a little perturbed.
I can't get this Mardi Gras mask off.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

varlet

Unidentified highwayman.
A cheat and a scoundrel.
Give a wide berth.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Buryat or Yakut

This is either an oil painting of a sculpture of a Buryat, or it's a sculpture of an oil painting of a Yakut, I forget which.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Jill's doll

The head of Jills's doll turned up yesterday.
Looks like it had a tough time out there on its own.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Thursday, February 19, 2009

cat

Coonie, our 16 year old cat, died today.
He was the best cat ever.
This ain't him.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Double Dog Darren

His real name was Jim, but they called him that because he was always throwing down the gauntlet.

Monday, February 16, 2009

HoJo Pieman

The old Howard Johnson's Pieman was usually seen in silhouette, but I found this shot of his mug straight on.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Ojibwe

Original man: Anishinabe,
shaper of birchbark,
trader of cowrie,
warrior of patience.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Friday, February 13, 2009

Cranial Surgery Subject 37

Once Dr. X mastered the oblique skull saw cut, it was cinch to tackle brain levitation.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Wee Willie Winkie

Wee W. Winkie, age 6 and a half, was arrested last night for indecent exposure and peeping tomfoolery. In his defense, Winkie claimed he was only enforcing the mayor's curfew of 10 PM for all wee-uns. When it was put to Winkie by this reporter that he himself was a wee-un and why wasn't he home in bed, Winkie claimed an exemption inherent in the law for sleepwalkers.

In other news, cats sang grey thrums and dogs spelder'd on the floor. Details at ten.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Modigliani lady

There came a point in his life when he felt called upon to rid himself of nearly all the art he had created up until then. Having destroyed his art, he set about to destroy himself. But something went wrong. For all the narcotics and the absinthe and the hashish, his vision only became clearer. A flare of art haloed his way out.

Of course, he died penniless. Tubercular meningitis. He was 35.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Saturday, February 07, 2009

Great Uncle Roy

Had to kick Great Uncle Roy out of the house again tonight for playing his flugelhorn. That's him now looking through the door glass. Don't let him in.

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Confucius Chrysalis

After which he took his act on the road,
shticking What's Up With That Anyway?

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Flayed Larry

He heard beauty was only skin deep, but he couldn't locate his.

Monday, February 02, 2009

Bold Marauder

(He may look a little more insane than bold, but there's not much difference.)

BOLD MARAUDER
by Richard FariƱa

And it's hi ho hey, I am the bold marauder
And it's hi ho hey, I am the white destroyer
For I will show you silver and gold, and I will bring you treasure
I will wave a widowing flag, and I will be your lover
And I will show you grotto and cave and sacrificial altar
And I will show you blood on the stone and I will be your mentor
And night will be our darling and fear will be our name.

And it's hi ho hey, I am the bold marauder
And it's hi ho hey, I am the white destroyer
For I will take you out by the hand and lead you to the hunter
And I will show you thunder and steel and I will be your teacher
And we will dress in helmet and sword and dip our tongues in slaughter
And we will sing a warrior's song and lift the praise of murder
And Christ will be our darling and fear will be our name.

And it's hi ho hey, I am the bold marauder
And it's hi ho hey, I am the white destroyer
For I will sour the winds on high and I will soil the river
And I will burn the grain in the field and I will be your mother
And I will go to ravage and kill and I will go to plunder
And I will take a fury to wife and I will be your mother
And death will be our darling and fear will be our name.

gaoler

After forty years it was hard for him to tell the in from the out.