Obed/Solstice/Baby Daddy Day... Yay!

The pleasures of the Obed Wild and Scenic River are not to be had for free. It takes tenacity, rockclimbing skills, an urge to trailblaze, an ability to use a primitive camp, some kayaking aptitude, mad camp cooking skilz, a love for all wildlife including mosquitos, tolerance for men who swim in their jeans holding a natty lite, midnight catfishers, and hopefully a four-wheel drive clunker.

AND IT'S TOTALLY WORTH IT! (kayaking daddy's creek from devil's breakfast table next)






A beautiful calm portion of the river, for which we scaled down a cliff to enjoy. The way up was much, much more difficult and included a broken tree extended down to Silas and I.




Awesome Neighbor. (clickey the pickey to make it bigger.) This here fella just caught this copperhead scavenging his fish guts while cleaning the fish he had just caught. (Notice the bulge in the snake's belly and the fish skin still hanging from the snake's mouth.) I kept asking him if he was going to kill it, and he said no... he enjoys being bitten. "The best high you've ever had. Better than LSD. Done it four times." Word to Wartburg.






Bubbles blowing over fire mesmerized the Si. That, and total exhaustion.






He's beautiful, even when he stinks. And boy, did he.






Magick Daddy Silas time here. This was our private swimming hole down the side of the mountain. NEED KEENS. CHACOS WEAK.






Father's Day Supper. Shucked 'em myself.







Umh, so the ones I couldn't shuck, we smoked on the embers of our fire. Easier to open when DEAD.






This abandoned tunnel runs right up next to a BUSY train track, and is the only method of getting across to the other side of the river. Jon glady flies through it in the dark (the water gets deep deep in there) but we chickened out.






This Awesome joint is where you get your firewood. HONOR SYSTEM. I heart it so...






The joys of Wartburg.

why i love craigs list personals

found this on craigs list... not putting the link here, but if you wanna verify, search personals for "bridge troll looking for unloveable hag"

Well,I guess I should start by telling a little about myself,but I warn you...I am a horrible speller and only slightly above illerate.The English language is an infinite source
of mystery to me,as most written languages are.Grasping it is a bit like being colorblind and trying to solve Rubik's Cube in the dark while having a raging frontal lobe
migraine.In my own opinion and that of many others,I should never be viewed beneath direct sunlight.Fluorescent and incandescent bulbs arn't much more flattering to me,for that matter.As a matter of fact,you should probably don a welding helmet before ever looking in my general direction.Trust me,you'll be much happier with me in the dark.I'm just going to throw that out there in case you're one of those overly shallow people.I stand shy of 6'4" tall.I am a 250 lb.lard ass,and am practically covered
in running,open sores.I have a lazy eye,and I absorbed a twin in the womb.If you stretch my skin just right,you can see him.I named him Harold,and if you tickle his partially formed face,he'll make some guttural sounds that I like to think of as singing.I have no motivation to better myself,nor do I have any direction in my life.I am content with being at the bottom of the barrel.Truthfully,If there was a way to escape and then crawl beneth said barrell,I probably would.I suppose you can say my
adoptive mother "won" me in a game of Russian roulette.I was always known around her circle of friends as her "eternal regret".I have minimal education,and my only
outlet to the world has been the occasional urine stained newspaper I would find while sleeping in dumpsters.I think it should go without saying that I have no table
etiquette,and if it turns you away,then I don't want to meet you anyway.Despite all of this,there are some activities that I find enjoyable.My main passion in life is
traveling,and I will occasionally go all the way to the Waffle House or the Walmart.

As for what I'm looking for in a large,beastly woman...you know that hanging flabby upper arm thing?.Yeah.I love that.It just may be a deal breaker if you lack it.You should have a small amount of facial hair,thinning hair on top,and an unkempt jungle down below.You get bonus points if you have some missing appendage.I also like a girl who is missing a few front teeth and can drink thru a straw without opening her jaw.It would be ideal if you can and do eat your weight in Cheetos (the crunchy
ones,not the puffs).I love good cankle,and I love a well dressed woman.Your wardrobe should consist of mostly balloon-like shirts and brightly colored cotton stretch
pants to show off that sexy front butt.I'm not all about looks,though.Personality-wise,I usually find myself attracted to womem who will take charge in a conversation
telling wonderfully long-winded tales of incredulous bullshit while leaving not a single moment for me to get a word in.I have been accused of a fair amount of self
loathing over the years,so I guess this is understandable for me.I don't like talking about myself much anyway.I have a thing for abrasive,nasal laughter whether you
are laughing at my poorly timed jokes or merely my own pale,translucent skin and general misfortune.Either way,it's a mutual human connection,thin and fragile as it
may be.I also have a lot of respect for women trying to make it in this world,so if you have a great career,like perhaps being a vereran cook at Hardee's,then maybe we
should talk.If you think you may be the woman I've been seeking for oh so long,then I'd love to hear from you.When you send me a picture,make sure to send me the
most unflattering thumbnail sized picture you can find.

But aseriously...no fuglies.

Affluenza and the Economy Bubble

I'm exhausted.

I got caught up.

I believed the bullshit and the hype.

I'm a sucker.

Like most everyone I know, my student loan debt from a ridiculous educational overload I did not need, approaches the national deficit. (my ex, who never went to college except to take a philosophy class with me, makes as much as me without a degree, on pure talent) In order to run up said debt, I numbed, drowned out, murdered, and chloroformed the person I was, into the person I thought I should be. Whoa. Big mistake. Most of us did it.

Then, we bought shit. And piled it in houses we were "proud" of. We needed specific clothes and specific cars, and boats and toys and decor. Sheets with a high thread count. Wine that costs more than $18 bucks a bottle. Porch furniture and fashionable landscaping. The newest electronics and muzak. A six hundred dollar purse. A seventy five dollar keychain. Two thousand dollar bicycles. Stainless steel appliances. Handmade dishes, and glasses, and vases. Marble countertops. Antique accents.

And this made things work. For awhile. And we were all rich. For awhile. And suddenly we're at the end of our ropes. The gigantic cars that GM cannot sell are being given away as severance pay. So many people opted out of blue collar work that it's all contributing to Mexico's GNP now. India OWNS our asses. America's FICO score is somewhere in the 300's. The US bankruptcy code had to be reworked in order to slow down the filings. Banks were kept running on monies from CHINA. Colleges ridded themselves of excellent professors. THERE IS NOONE TO BLAME BUT OURSELVES.

And I'm glad. The pursuit of property was fucking killing me. The naming of success as "stuff" made me nauseous (though for some masochistic reason, I half heartedly participated). Watching my small son become brand conscious was the worst.

And now I say, "What's wrong with one income families? With one car and one television? With hand-me-downs and knee patches? With gardens and sharing? With bird watching instead of television watching?" What's wrong with re-use, thrift shopping, upcycling and recycling? WHY WERE (are?) WE SO ASHAMED?

I really hope that we all "need" less. I hope this depression gives us all permission to want less. (Considering that we "need" more than 90% of the Earth's population.) I really hope we begin to judge one another on beauty and merit and creativity and generosity rather than ownership and "power."

I want to entertain you with homemade wine, garden veggies, and good conversation while wearing a dress I made from cut up T-shirts (I already have the dress; the veggies will come this summer; a neighbor offered to teach me dandelion wine making this spring). I want to let go of the pursuit of property. Let the bubble burst. We're all better off. We won't let one another starve. And maybe we can let go of "stuff" in the process.

Interesting things:

Your Money or Your Lifehttp://yourmoneyoryourlife.info/
The Story of Stuffhttp://www.storyofstuff.com/
Affluenza http://www.pbs.org/kcts/affluenza/

Our Trip to Obamarama (with questionable captions)

i recommend that you click the pix to see their ginormity


also- please call me to help me upload our video-im kinda slow and stuff



left: me, when the party's over, on the floor of the smithsonian art gallery, mall dust on ma boots, six layers of clothing, and toboggan head.













okay guys- the truth is that we all had an incredibly touching time. so much so, that writing about it just minimizes the enormity of what we experienced... so there will be none of that here. if you want to see me cry about how touching it was, and show you my painstakingly made scrapbook, take me out for a beer. (also, there are about 700 more pics) otherwise, enjoy my lack of photography skills and my demon commentary. xoxo











two hip elderly ladies who will be able to
marry one another soon!





















































the entrance to the first level of hell (the metro was NOT MADE TO HOLD ALL YOU PEEPS!)
















































my crush on hopey embarrases


people, least of all myself


























































wild and wacky lesbian revelers outside msnbc's protective


(and strangely fingerprintless) glass shield, worshipping


rachel maddow

what happens when your brain actually

freezes from standing in the arctic to catch

a glimpse of hopey... sad. keith still thinks that chic was trying to take him home.

robin and keith pretended to go to arlington, but sprinted across the potomac instead(posers) (this was the first indicia of the pending tour group uprising that was to come)

oh... thats our very own jumbotron! yippee! thank heavens for jumbotronic technology or else we just would have been a bunch of dumbasses standing in a field.

in an escher-esque moment, jon and i captured eternity by me taking a pic of him, taking a pic of me, taking a pic of him, ad nauseum; that eternity will have to be enjoyed by another as i have no idea whose camera i was holding.

as you can see here, we cannot tell the size of the hoards of unwashed masses of which we are a part-when i later saw the photos of the mall, i became afeared for my safety. but by then, i was already gone. also, there were no stinky people there. this may be why inaugurations are not in august.

left: people freezing their bejeebers off. and waiting. note: smiles are frozen in place.

these are a reminder of trucknutz. and of home.

here, we are watching a bunch of lithuanian men

take millions of pictures of each other in odd poses while they refuse to speak our native tongue. nashville would be horrified.

left: it was too cold for jon's camera to focus but i don't know how to delete this photo from the page.

this shot is behind us. only three hours left to wait! (out the porta potty)

here, i am trying to eat robin so that i may wear her carcass for warmth. (i learned this nifty trick from luke skywalker) you can see that she thought i was joking.

its all five am here, on the ride to DC, and we're all like forty FOUR- gangsta style and are all covered with obamatard stickers and sacrificing goats. also, i know it looks like i'm unpatriotic with that yellow tee over my underarmour, but, it DOES say "barack is my DJ"-- besides, i'm a naval veteran dammit!

note: robin is in a gang now, as made clear by her sportage of that bandanna (right behind jon's head)

food this bad only exists in maryland. our cult leader made us pretend that it was calamari because we paid her to trick us into being happy, and exert mind control over us.

look. barry smoked already. we didn't turn him "on" to it.

jon took all of these pics. jon thinks people that ride horses around dc are funny. i explained to him about our founding fathers/and horses.

more ne'er do wells, edging their way up 12th street to the mall... with all the chanting and the singing and the dancing and the very unprofessional behavior.

though we made many a sacrifice and sung many a hymn in its honor, the sun refused to make it over the capitol building any faster than scheduled... just looking at this picture makes my toes numb.

jon likes to take pictures of himself. this is probably his new myspace avatar. jon is a self proclaimed narcissistic bastard. i seconded the proclamation.

little did we know that this bus contained a cult leader who forced us to do her bidding, until the mutiny at the newseum.

penn quarter tavern: a place to cuddle and address frostbite issues

this is the potomac. of which we crossed. cuz we are all cool like george washington and stuff.

this is beau. he is our friend. he did not come with us. but we overcame the odds and found him anyway. he has now been lost to the hippie mecca of asheville, only to be seen at periodic trips to the orange peel.

this is our new blended family. we enjoyed refreshments with them and all got matching tattoos of the virgin mary holding hands with ganesha. i miss them already.

robin and keith are drunks. but i still like them. also, they may be muslim.








THAT IS ALL.