Monday, March 31

dump dove

ewwwwwwww, ninja,
you smell like french fries......

on the real, ya'll.

long days short on time

still no luggage! still no machines!! still no help from those airport suckas!!!
if ever there was a time where i felt like i was getting mixed reviews, its these days. i mean, i have definitely attracted the attention of the universe, which is amazing because as much as my cultivated coincidence generating powers are vanilla sky-tastic, it never really indicated my place in the bigger picture.   now, however, i have clearly caught the eye, and ire apparently, of the universal machineworks. and as a result of something i've done, im getting my karmic comeuppance in miniature lazer burnt increments.

today, steve gillespie, my very good friend, leaves white mountain tattoo. we've worked together for 5 years, and i am hating his departure pretty hard. of course i wish him all the success and profit and happiness that a change of scenery towards (much) greener pastures will undoubtedly bring, but i also am pretty bummed out. it seems as though my friends are ALL moving on up in the true jeffersonian sense (not thomas, yo, im talking about george). new jobs, new careers, new houses. jeez, im pretty bummed out. and here i used to be the interesting one.......

in other news, it is most likely going to snow and rain and be generally awesome for my days off. it would appear mother nature and mother earth are also in on the cosmic nudge ive been getting. maybe, just maybe, there is going to be a catastrophic zombie climate ice age barbarian berserker fury world paradigm shift.
in that case, two things will prove true:
1. buying a bunch of crazy-person equipment was a GREAT idea.
2. the wrench is the only tool it turns out you'll ever need.

and remember kids, ten louder is still not the same as

Friday, March 28

lost luggage and sad stories

my luggage is missing.
it was misplaced in minneapolis or maybe in  philadelphia on easter, and hasn't resurfaced yet.
thanks a whole bunch, jesus.

this of course makes work harder, since my tattoo machines are in my missing bag.

and did i mention the amish root beer?
i should've led in with that one, because it tastes like it smells, and it smells like cow poop. in your mouth.

thanks again to shawn and lucky at identity tattoo, and to michael holmes for planning a free pretzel fiasco with the best of intentions.

the height of good manners is knowing when to leave.........