Tuesday, July 31, 2007

proposals for meat lessons

one time I saw this movie about a guy in Italy who found a special book sitting in a dustbin. it was missing its cover and he spent the rest of the movie trying to find out what book it was.

here we have a cover but must ourselves stitch together the content; retro-engineer it if you will, like an impoverished eastern bloc regime. are you with me comrades? we need at least 10 lessons for the rising generation. I know you know about this stuff. what have experience and precept taught you about meat over the years?

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Archived Americana

here’s a little more Americana from the national archives

cuckoos & roadside explosives

my friend Paul is working as a security guard in Hawaii these days. his company sends him out to protect state parks and private schools and things, and he gets to use the CB radio a lot. I could begin a completely separate blog about Paul and it would be way better than this one. we’ll see.
anyway, he’s come back again for a few weeks to sell fireworks in Roy, UT and he’s got his stand set up in a scorching parking lot between Beto’s Mexican restaurant and Dr. John’s adult novelties. for the last couple years this is where we have gone for all our firework needs. this time Kelly and Ash got to hold down the fort for a bit while Paul and I jaywalked through 4 lanes of traffic to get a Wendy’s burger. during the short while we were gone they did about $30 in business! when I was like 14 this would have been my dream job: selling fireworks from a chipboard shed up by the air force base.

there was a time when Paul threw several routes of newspapers for NAC. and for a while we all entertained the idea of painting a flaming newspaper on the side of his golf cart. but now that he’s hustling little exploding papers, people come to him. so if you still have any fireworks you need to buy, hurry go get them from Paul. I’ve got a suspicion that he might actually be America.
“We Americans are all cuckoos. We make our homes in the nests of other birds.”
Oliver Wendell Holmes