Chuck Norris Placemats
Last week I ran a contest at Swapatorium for these fine Chuck Norris, Billy Dee Williams, Richard Pryor placemats. Well, I found five more sets. The first five people who email me will get a set of the placemats sent to your home. There's one catch. You have to send me a photo of you actually using the placemats. How you use them....well, that's up to your imagination.
*All the placemats have been claimed...man, that was quick*
I realize this is neither happy or fun. I have a friend of mine who came to see me yesterday. When I saw her I was shocked. She looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks.
Thin as a rail. Unhealthy thin. Scary thin.
She has told me in the past that food has been an issue for her entire life.
Now it's gotten bad. Really bad. She looks like hell. 90 pounds (maybe).
I confronted her and she denied there was any problem.
I got pissed that she was ignoring it and we had a major blow-out.
I know she reads this blog everyday. She doesn't comment here but I know she visits.
I hope posting this is a wake up call for her. I can't sit and watch her kill herself anymore.
You guys have any advice?
It's big fun dammit. Free pie afterwards.
I love when you guys send me email.
I wanted you to post this as a sort of dedication to the happiness dogs
bring us (and for Henry). This is me and my first dog Lassie, I was so
terribly original! Note the lack of front teeth. I knocked the front two out
VERY early on (jumping on a bed, I fell and hit them on the headboard) and
of course didn’t have front teeth until I got my adult teeth in. Years and
years and years of singing ‘all I want for Christmas is my 2 front teeth, my
2 front teeth’.
Shelly, Kathy, Tommy, Cindy, Me
Illinois City, Illinois
Sorry yall. I'm out in farm country. Be back tonight.
Realdoll v 1.0
So today I was over at the Swap-O-Rama Flea Market at 43rd and Ashland. This is my lone purchase of the day. I know, I know, it's a crappy painting.
But there's one thing that made we want to own it.
She's throwing down the "metal sign".
And while we're on the subject of metal, check this out (quicktime movie).
Hi Mick. Should I post your home phone number? Let me know OK?
And in other news.....take a visit to The Kriegsmann Files
This past weekend I was in Flanagan Illinois at an auction. While I was there, I let my cousin Rachel use my camera. She said she wanted to take pictures of "interesting people". I liked the pics so much that I set her up with her own photoblog -
Not bad for an eight year old.
I'm filling in for Angelica at Swapatorium this week.
Check it out.
I think I was about eight years old when the policeman came to our classroom. He was there to talk to us about the work that policemen did. It was known back then as "community relations".
When he walked in the door I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. Earlier that week, I was at my grandmothers house when a couple of police cars pulled up. Two cops walked up to my grandmothers door and rang the bell. They were looking for my uncle. They said they wanted to "ask him a couple of questions". The local cops had it out for him big time. He may have done a few minor things wrong but now they were trying to pin every crime that ever happened on him. The problem for the cops was that my uncle was an urban magician. He could disappear at will. To this day I don't know how he managed to do it but if he decided to not be found...well, you were not going to find him. It drove the cops nuts.
As I stood behind my grandmother at the door, I heard the last thing the cop said to her. "Tell that punk we'll find him". Wrong thing to say to my grandma. She launched into a profanity laced tirade that would melt a truck drivers ears. She followed them out to their cars calling them every name in the book. (I actually learned a few new word combinations that day.) As the cops drove away she stood on the curb swearing at them and shaking her fist. One of the cops looked back at us as he drove away and looked me right in the eye.
The same cop that was now standing in my classroom.
I knew that he remembered me. Right when he walked in the door, we made eye contact and he gave me a smirk. The worst part wasn't the fact that he remembered me but the fact that I was now a marked kid. There were kids that the cops "knew". They constantly got hassled by the police. Even though I'd never done anything wrong, I was now one of those kids. That look told me "I know you and I'm going to get you".
He gave a speech about his job and the usual "stranger danger" stuff. All through his talk he would look at me and give me that same smirk . It was really pissing me off. I wanted to launch into a grandma strength tirade of my own but sat there quietly as he gave his talk. By this time the other kids were noticing the looks that the cop was giving me. My friend Mike looked at me from a few rows over with a "what the hell is that all about?" expression. If the other kids knew I was a "marked" kid it wouldn't be good. Eventually it would get to the parents and you'd be one of those "I don't want you hanging around with him...I hear he's nothing but trouble"
The cop was finishing up his speech and asked if anyone in the room had any questions. I had to do something. This guy was going to ruin my childhood. I raised my hand and the teacher said "Yes, Ronny, what's your question".
"Did you ever catch my uncle?"
I'm heading out to the country for another farm auction.
Wait until you see what I get at this one.
First off, Henry is doing OK. The vet wants to try chemotherapy. This means for the next eight weeks he goes in for treatments. I'm stuck in the midwest until it's over. I really wanted to leave sooner but ya gotta do what ya gotta do. At least he's getting good medical care.
This past weekend I headed out to a farm auction in Deer Grove Illinois. There were plenty of tractors and other equipment but I was there for something else. Wayyyyy in the back of the field was this fine piece of Americana. A 1960 Airstream Land Yacht.
Yep, I bought it.
The inside needs some work.
It's not perfect but the body has no dings or dents. I think it has potential.
Now all it needs is a name....
If any of you folks live here in the Chicagoland area Nick from Squareamerica.com will be giving a gallery talk tonight at 6:00pm in conjunction with his show-
The Innocent Eye? Amateur Photography from the 20th Century
at The Carl Hammer Gallery, 740 North Wells Street, Chicago, Illinois 60610.
Nick will take you all out for free pie afterwards. Yep, pie ala mode. All free.
He'll also come to your house and tidy up. It's just something he likes to do.
Hey folks, Nick from Square America here- Ron's out searching for that elusive bighappy mobile so I'm filling in today.
Henry is having surgery to remove the tumor on his head on Tuesday. I'm going to give him some time to recover and then we'll head out on the road.
I have a friend who is waiting on the title for a big fancy schmancy motorhome. Once the title gets here, that sled is mine. It'll be turned into a rolling Bighappyfunhouse by a crack team of decorators and drunkards. Expect a ton of leopard fabric, some fuzzy dice, a disco ball or two and one of these (I'm thinking the 12 volt Ooga will do just fine).
I can't hardly wait.
Lets go bowling.
To my new friend. Thanks for the shell.
After listening to this, I've decided to make Ripple the official drink of Bighappyfunhouse. (Now where the hell do I get some?)
More info on Lee here