Archive for the rancho cato Category
2 pm 7.26.10
It’s pouring rain outside, it’s been raining all day. It’s been raining for a fucking week. Raining hard enough that I haven’t seen the rancho catos. With flood warnings up I wonder if the water will bubble up though the manhole cover on 36th again. That was a fun night, Roommate Kim striped Boy-toy Ratboy naked, sent him out in rubber boots and blown up condoms tied at his elbows. In the middle of the street whahooing in the flood. The neighbors across the street who were watching the cars get up over their hubs in water, cheered like mad. Fun times before it all went very bad. Jackie was there that night. She would love to see some of this rain on her chunk of North America. And if I could I’d move some of this to her.
As for me, I’m damp and grumpy. This is the start of a three week stay-cation. And it’s all rain. It reminds me of when I went to McCarthy two summers ago. I sat in the fucking rain for two weeks. Not doing much of any thing, drinking coffee with rum and Carolinas cream liquor. Here in town I just don’t feel like going any where. I’d have to put on halibut gear. Biking in that stuff you just get sweaty wet before you get to your destination. Last night was another BBQ fail. Sorry guys, it was just too wet.
So I’m hanging out here at El Rancho. Still working on the spin things. Till my eyeballs start to bleed.
Who Are You?
Jackie has better access to her blog stats than I do. She can look at nation of origin, on hers. I know when a hit comes though a refer, but only get the IP when some one leaves a comment. The pic of the dog bite bruise on her thigh is very popular with men (assumed) from Saudi Arabia (which is for sure). Gross. And when ever I get a hit at the post of my own thigh bruise I know that’s it’s probably some sicko in Saudi. If I knew Arabic I would write over the picture. ” Sick lover of dogs, Allah sees what you do.”
The point of this is that I’ve been getting other weird hits. From a drug abuse site or sites. alcoholloveyourtreatment, and alcoholproblemo. My personal favorite, melikedrugabuse.
Now I know some folks who could use some time in rehab. I’ve known people who went to rehab only to hab again later. Nothing too harsh. Alcohol being the most common drug of choice. But I know no one on the inside right now. Oh, what’s that? Rehab for me? No thanks. Rehab is for quitters and I’m not a quitter.
But, melikedrugabue, I’d love to learn where and how you found me. Are you a doc type or a client type? Is my blog a lesson in how to fall down or get up? One on the long-term effects of my drug of choice? Or are you after a visual contact high? You might visit the Burroughs Project page. And I do have a number of brain paintings in this blog. May be a lesson in drug users who manage to have a productive life and still get high.
I suggest that you go to Jackie’s Memories of Re-eduction Camp. When she got busted I told her that what she was going though had nothing to do with punishment or justice, it had to do with revenue for the State. It isn’t about re-education ether. A waste of her time and money. I think the first thing she did when done with this bullshit was to get good and high.
But hey, stick around you drug connected folks. Got some cool art and some comics that at least some my fellow Alaska’s think are pretty good. And a fan base of Doctor types and their drug abusing clients wouldn’t be all that bad.
Boy I sure haven’t been posting much. I think blogs are something that self-promotion is an important part of, if you want a large group of readers. After 20 years of making art, which is another thing that self promotion is a big part of, (at least if you want to sell any of it) I know I suck at this. Not making any money off of ether one. So, I love you my 40 readers. 40 readers that help me feel that I’m not just screaming into the internet wind.
We have more winter riders at work every year.
And Fat Bikes are the ride of choice for some dudes. One guy rides in from Omalley road. It takes him about an hour.
And these Pogies help keep your hands warm.I don’t do much winter trail these days, I have out lived my knees. Those fat tires would only be a drag in Spenard.
My homegirl L. asked me if I could donate some art to a mental health organization. They are doing the tried and true, get them drunk and they will buy art. I remember the old VAC. We had art auctions too. You can work your butt off on these things. I gave when asked. But my stuff never bought in much. So I wish them luck with this one. ‘My brain on drugs.”
And we can’t forget the rancho catos. Here we have Adoe at the window. Looking for some kitty treats, may be a tuna can opened for dinner. He loves empty tuna cans. Because to him they are not empty.
Got that 15 year plus D st. Cafe couch out of the house.
It is headed for the dump, but for now the cats are loving it.
Been taking that break from lino cutting.
It’s a pillowcase.
I like sewing by hand. I learned early thanks to my Mom. Doing cross stitch by the time I was six.
Biking around Spenard while the sun was shining. I watched a man with an empty 40-oz in his hand. At some point he had split the back of his pants out. Staggering bare ass down Spenard.
I came out of K-bros and glanced at a man sitting by the bike racks. My first thought is that he’s way bundled up for such a warm day. He noticed me and speaks “Do you think the lions will try to eat me again this year?” I stopped. I mean the question is a stopper. “Yes, I think they will. They will take you if they can. Have you ever seen the pictures of the guys in India that wear masks on the back of their heads, so the tigers think the dudes are looking at them?”
This is true, I’ve seen those pics. And I’ve read many stories of bikers in California getting nailed by Mountain Lions. Much scarer than bears. The cats hunt you. I start to unlock my bike. Looking down at the lock I catch sight of his shoes. Dressed for October, and no socks on his feet.
“Yes, I’ve seen those pictures.”
By now I’ve got my bike unlocked. “Watch your back.” “I will.” I pedal off, going home in Spenard.