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the youth in Asia

“Blizzard” was found by Kevin near the dumpster of an apartment building… His original owner, an acquaintance through other friends, had thrown him out because he kept impregnating his other cats.

Kevin took the starving cat home and tried to get him cleaned up as best as possible but his long white hair had matted and turned into knots…. So Kevin shaved him and renamed him “Knottingham”.

For the next few weeks, Kevin’s former lover would think he was hallucinating because he could have sworn he kept seeing a shaved cat just out of the corner of his eye.

Knotty would remain one of those skittish cats for years to come… until Kevin moved to Saint Louis and shacked up with this neurotic graphic designer with a monkey nickname.

Just a few days after Kevin moved in, I was sitting at my desk working away when I got this odd feeling like I was being watched.

The cat had jumped into the open desk drawer to my right, had curled up in a ball and was watching me… mesmerized…. I returned the look and smiled…. I made a friend with the cat who for years prior wouldn’t take to ANYONE – let alone come out of hiding.

Knots was a ham – he could work the camera as good (if not better) than many of the primate descended subjects I’ve shot.

Knots really…. really… loved tuna…

Knots had a thing for scratching wood – but like his owner – only liked the expensive stuff. If you put him in a room with 12 catnip rubbed scratching poles and an Eames lounge chair… 20 to 1 – he’d go for the Eames… That’s my boy.

Knots was very particular about his box…. lunar cycles or mercury’s orbit or .. something – seemed to govern his approval of the litter….

Knots “barked” (talked) a lot…

Knots did NOT like the Dyson.

Knots did REALLY like the laser pointer.

Knots would come in a tell me goodnight… every night… without fail.

Knots feLl prey to renal failure due to several age-related conditions.

Knots left us today at 5:15pm with the help of our vet who came to our house.

Knots baby I love you… go bug dad till I get there.

like a true natures child

Started dealing with dad’s estate stuff.

Little overwhelming… just insisting on taking things methodically slow.

Cart… Horse… Left foot… Right foot.

Step 1 – Liquidate the car… The proceeds will pay off the Funeral home, get a decent monument for the cemetery and throw enough cash into a holding account to keep the house in South County running this year as we excavate.

I took it out on Saturday for a drive to run through the car wash and take some pics to throw onto Craig’s List.

So there I was…

Hippy-fried, TDI drivin, art-fag German car lovin grump ass… mildly annoyed that I have to take this big monstrosity out for a spin to keep it’s battery alive and go wash it so it’s presentable.

I flipped on the stereo to help drown out the growling V8 and performance exhaust….

Unbeknownst to me there was a CD loaded in the player…. It picked right up playing from the point of what had to be one of the last times dad was in the car when he could still drive.

It was Steppenwolf….

“heh… figures.”

My instinctive eye-roll was interrupted by a creeping grin across my face.

I looked down at the tachometer… put in the clutch and punched the accelerator.

The car let out a huge growl – I grinned again.

Punched up the volume and laid a patch of rubber from third gear.

I took the long way to the car wash.


Went to Girl Talk last night at The Pageant.

Since Kev isn’t a fan of crowds – or the mashup / electronica / trancy-pants genre for that matter – we parked him at JJ’s and headed off.

Chad, Elise, Kitty-Prime and Rico… Nice dinner at Miss Siagon before hand then off to the show.

We were easily in the top oldest 20% of the crowd,… but this didn’t seem to make any of us “feel” old or out of place really… Maybe if we were there against our wills or something we’d feel out of place…

… so maybe we could get a whole nostalgic angle out of the show that these kids weren’t?

“Hey sonny – ya hear that loop there in the background? Jah hear it?

Catchy ain’t it? Well dag-nab it – I remember when that song was new! Ye-sirrrr-e! From a little act called Depeche Mode… I had ever imaginable mix of this on C.D. single!


No… Not “seedy” as in cheap marijuana …. Ceeeee.Deeeeee…. A piece of plastic with a pitted foil encased within in used to play uncompressed music.”


Anyway – so I was wondering how a guy and a laptop would be enough of a “spectacle” to warrant the purchase of a ticket let alone leaving the house. Well I found out…

They just open the whole damn place up and you can go up on stage… Brilliant… Crowdcast your own entertainment. Every freaky-deak, extravert and hot girl was up there dancing their fannies off… Girl with a unicorn hat on… One of those naked-guys in a primary-colored nylon head -to-toe suit things… and so on.

I love how fashion in general is a complete free-for-all now….

The two girls running around with the toilet paper guns fashioned from electric leaf blowers was a nice touch too.

Grandpa’s feet are killin him though… gotta go put ’em up.


Guess I gave myself no choice but to be a little more communicative and post more… if for anything – it’s to put space (and entries) between myself and the hell-ride of 2008.

I always clean my desk up and stuff over the new year – but this year it feels different.

well – I’ve got more crap my desk that’s for sure….

In other purgative news.

I had an analog media panic attack.

First big change or decision for 2009? –

I didn’t update a single magazine subscription.

There was a collection of 5, count ’em 5, knee-high piles of magazines in my office.

Would get ’em…. sit ’em down and say “i’ll read it later”.

Later never comes.

Then I’d get this anxiety twinge every time I look at them over there….

Oh – I still squirreled a stack away – but the rest have either been sent off in the recycling, given out to friends or my favorite:

Planting my back issues of the super-dooper left-wing Adbusters in my Father’s various doctors offices – (all located in affluent, establishment dependent suburban settings).

moo ha ha ha ha

PS- Yes – we subscribed to Playboy for two or three years…..

…. for the articles.

… no… I mean really…