For as much trouble as this holiday can be, this one wasn’t so bad.
Sierra and Max wait for fallen treats in the kitchen
Originally, I had hoped we could just go out to eat, or even just ignore the fact that it was a holiday, but when Abby’s daughter Chele and her husband Tom (just to refresh the memories of our readers) decided to come for Thanksgiving instead of Christmas, wheels were set in motion. In the end, everyone pitched in, everyone had a nice time, and while everyone else enjoyed Cornish game hens, I got to have a Tofurky! We had lots of desserts, including one Chele and I decided was funny to call men’s meat pie.
Dorothy, Chele, Tom and Abby chat during dinner
“For my incontinence, I’ve been using a clothes pin.” -M
“That’s brilliant! Until now I was just using a rubber band!” -R
Wine on Sake
Farmer #1: “Got my dog eatin’ Bil Jac.”
Farmer #2: “That’s nothing. I got my dog eatin’ hay.”
Farmer #1: “My dog won’t eat hay!”
Farmer #2: “Neither would mine for the first couple of months.”
Farmer #3: “That’s nothing. My dog’s dead, and I got him suckin’ my d!ck!”
When we were kids, we called pooping “grunting.”
He doesn’t fart much for a guy who’s so full of sh*t.
“It’s hard to love people, man. People suck.” -Hisk Oxsolong (aka “Ah, f*ck, man!”)
“I peel you and you eat me, you lily-white piece of f*cking chicken scratch!” -JHC
Extruded poop nozzle.
Sign-in sheet for grey gruel stink club and international communist manifesto clambake:
Name: Knee size:
Michael Untisfurry ?
Aparatoose Man ?
Ignoramoose Boy knee=mc2
I have to tell you something. This information will change your life forever. Lee Harvey “The Invisible Rabbit” Oswald and that Quaker, Ruth Payne, were watching an Irving Klaw bondage film made with their 8mm Bell & Howell Zoomatic movie camera, when a dump truck went past and honked the horn twice, “Breast! Breast!” It was a signal from the construction company who planned to bury John F. Kennedy’s brain next to Jimmy Hoffa, Jimmy Hoffa’s baby, and a cougar in that lump in the turf at Giant’s Stadium.
Here’s another one from 1986. Do I look deep? Thoughtful? Enigmatic? Idiotic? That last one, probably.
Fival exposure in the back yard at the Prem Plaza apartments in Shawnee, Oklahoma
Okay, here is a challenge: describe God, and be concrete and specific. (The first one who says, “God is love” is automatically banned for life.) Ready? Go!
“You’re all a bunch of f*cking idiots.” -Jim Morrison
If a blind man is about to die, does he hear his life flash before his ears?
“Hey, Matthew. Wanna go get a beer?”
“Okay, but I have to bone my chicken first.”
They’d call it a routine retirement of a replicant, but I’d never f*cked a man to death before.
We have a life-sized statue of Norman Mailer made entirely of tallow and grapes.
Rocky Mountain oyster, lock you in cloister.
“You know we’ll be the ‘Cletus’ of the f*cking galaxy if we ever make contact. Everybody’ll make fun of us.” -D
Always the truck stop in Alabama with you, isn’t it?
“Together we’ll fill the galaxy with gas!” -J
“Watch as Rex Hardpole sprays his dangerously infected semen across the silver screen!”
“We are gathered here to honor meat.”
“He doesn’t want anything. He’s insane.”
“Duck my sick!” -D
“You’re not going to manhandle me, are you?” -M, 1978
Abby's old rain chimes on the front porch this morning
I am feeling a little blue today, despite the fact that it’s really grey out.
I know it’s at least somewhat due to the weather, which turned progressively colder and greyer as the weekend progressed. That, in turn, causes Abby’s rheumatoid arthritis to flare up, and when she hurts, I hurt by proxy.
I need to make myself a hot lunch, and motivate myself to perk up. Let’s see what’s in the pantry that’s not earmarked for Thanksgiving. Hmm. Creamed eels. Corn nog. Wadded beef. Okay, maybe lunch will have to wait.
Throughout my photographic and literary life, I have striven to be creative. Much of the time it ends up derivative and incomplete. That’s part of a genuinely creative process, I guess. I thought about this today as I searched some old negatives for an image, and found these attempts at expressing some kind of inner strife, longing, depth, arousal, whatever. I was about 24 when I made these images, and while they were unbelievably lame failures, at least I was trying.
Triple exposure of me on the floor in my apartment in Shawnee, Oklahoma. Note $25 Salvation Army couches and Top Gun-esque sunglasses.
Multiple exposure attempt later that night in the back yard. I'm sure at the time I thought I was on to something groundbreaking.
Sidebar: I was in a relationship at the time I made these photos, and for years after it ended, I kept asking myself, “Where did I go wrong?” But the truth is that she and I were both young, and we both made a ton of the kinds of relationship mistakes that young people make.
Shumard Oak Leaf
It is the heart of autumn here in southeastern Oklahoma, and everything is starting to fade. It was a nice, windy, warm day today, and I was lucky to be working outdoors for some of the afternoon. Thought I’d share a slice of it.
Powdered toast man vs Q.
Roger Cocteau vs Reginald Fuqeustique.
“Chopin’s Dirge for Hermaphroditic Venezuelan Orphans.” -D
Handsome reusable spitwad.
Flock of Butts vs Bagworm City.
“Give him two coat hang wires and he’ll give you a Kaiser roll stamp.”
“With the new minimum wage, my dick actually makes more money than I do now.” -D
“Chocolate is a green vegetable.” -M
Don’t uphold this culture any more.
Are you a consumer?
Did you buy something today?
How deeply did it scar your soul?
How can you ever recover?
Might as well weep!
“A shiny product
in the aisle. bright. glittering.
sledgehammer descends.” -D
PUNK backwards is KNUP.