why that frame in our living room will not have a nice family photo in it again this year:

there are about 150 more like them, too. fuckers.

okay, so that trip to denver... here's the pics.

we went fishing every day except sunday. because sunday is a religiously mandated day of rest, and we're not assholes. we stayed home and brewed a beer. yay, jesus!

now, i could show you dozens and dozens of pictures of water and rocks and mountains and stuff. also, the nicely-posed "look at us; we're friends, and if we can manage not to blink, this shit is going in a frame on the wall" pictures.

but that's boring. any shiny object could distract me from completing such a mundane blog post. so instead, here are some of the more fucked up pictures!***

this is nodamnsense in front of his water heater. a game for the contractors and architects among us: "Let's Count the Building Code Violations!" also, nodamnsens's eyes are closed, which is always funny.


this is nodamnsense flipping me off. with his toes. his disgusting, crooked, too-long monkeytoes. ew.


we hit the 90% off halloween leftovers at the grocery store, and bought cute little rubber animals for wampus. then made them have sex with each other. (when he wasn't looking, so it's all good.)


one of the things wampus got in his halloween bag was some sort of lightweight, air-drying clay compound by playdoh. of course, i took one look at it and thought "penis! magnificent, alabaster penis!" there it is hanging out in all its turgid majesty on nodamnsense's fly-tying vise.

i set that up and took the picture after he had gone to work on our last day there. i emailed him this picture after we got home, and he said, "oh, so THAT'S what that was supposed to be." apparently, it went quite limp after we left, and dried permanently as a sad little whiskey-dick. curse you, mile-high city!

nodamnsense in a utility kilt with our christmas present to wampus, a darth maul lightsaber. yep. it's kind of like looking at a maplethorpe... all you can say is.... yyyyyyyyyyyyep.





okay. and here are some nice pictures, too:

me and the friend formerly known as vetresident, now hereby named bigwillieattending, what with the whole gainfully employed thing - in denver, yay! more friends to visit! and she has buddy passes to snowboarding locations!


nodamsense with my stolen hat and positiverolemodel:


tying flies for the next day:


a father-son jedi battle:


leaving his kid's christmas present alone and playing with his own damn christmas present:

actually, nevermind. nodamnsense got the texas-tea edition resonator guitar... it's black. the shiny object in his lap is actually my gift to prm. turd. talk about the grinch that stole some damn christmas!

pretty sunset in waterton canyon:


pretty rocks in the st vrain river - now my wallpaper on my laptop:




***(astute readers will notice that i said "more," not "most." the most fucked up pictures would make your eyeballs bleed. and maybe get me arrested.)

"so i stopped at the porn store, and i found THE PERFECT GIFT for you!"

yep. words that should strike terror into the hearts of no fewer than five of my friends this christmas. but hey, you should all feel lucky... i'm too cheap to buy the truly majestic items for sale there, like the 18" mandingo. $24.95 is a bit much for a menacing paperweight. that's right. you're all getting stuff from the sale rack.

a carotid slicer? you shouldn't have. really.

so i was finishing up my christmas shopping, and had FINALLY settled on a decent gift for a certain hard-to-buy-for person... a shiatsu neck massager! it looked nice. check it out.

okay. then, i notice the VERY NEXT RESULT in the amazon search is a link to buy the full text of a medical journal article. the abstract details a case study of a woman who sliced open the major artery in her neck using exactly such a massager. not bruised. not inflamed. DISECTED. seriously.

now, i'm all for prank gifts, but...

why are they all still awake?

party in the crib! party on the futon! party on the sleigh bed! wooooooooooooo!

motherfucker. which is why i'm hiding down here to tell y'all this little story.

so today was the twits' field trip to the herbert hoover presidential library. as you may have noticed if you've been reading my blog for a while, i don't look forward to field trips. so i was afraid this one would suck ass, but it was actually okay. there were about 30 different christmas trees up, the nice old lady who led the tour showed them all the trees, read them a story, and showed them a cartoon in a little movie theater. yay, age-appropriate activities!

she also asked them a few open-ended questions. as you may have noticed if you've been reading my blog for more than a week, i dread my childrens' answers to any question, especially non-multiple-choice ones.

"so what do you like to do when you're outside in the snow?"

CHILD 1: i like to throw snowballs!

CHILD 2: i make snowman!

CHILD 3: i play!

CHILD 4: i forgot!

SPAZMONKEY: i like to hunt bad guys and shoot them! with guns! and then i punch them like this! and then i jump on them! (despite the nice old lady moving on to the next child, spazmonkey continued to detail for several minutes all the ninja-style badassery that he would perpetrate on the fallen bad guys.)

CHILD 5: i build a snowman!

CHILD 6: i make snowmen and snowballs and snow angels! and i eat snow! and i build snowmen!

DRAMAQUEEN: i punch a snowman in the head!

NICE OLD LADY: oh, honey, that's not nice! whyever would you do that?

DRAMAQUEEN: because he farted!

the other parents laughed, too. yay, social conservatives who appreciate the value of a fart-joke sneak-attack! that's kind of a rare breed!

a now-open letter to my best friend

Date: Mon, 3 Dec 2007 19:39:18 -0800 (PST)
From: "welfareloser"
Subject: mortal kombat
To: "nodamnsense"

so tonight, in an effort to come up with something
else to work on for the banjo to further procrastinate
in getting to the scale exercises, i started playing
my favrite tunes - cripple creek and clinch mountain
backstep - as fast as i could. and then a little
faster. and then a little faster. after about five
rounds, i realized i was almost playing at fo-shizzle
authentic bluegrass speed, and even though i was
totally losing my shit on any kind of precision in the
fingerwork, intonation, or dynamics (also, i wasn't
playing the timing), but i went ahead and sped it up
anyway, and pretty much pulled it off. the song was
recognizable. it really, really felt good. god, i'm
sexy.

but here's the punchline: the song was recognizable,
but messy as hell. at that speed, in over my head, it
suddenly occured to me that i had pretty much reverted
to my sloppy-win technique for mortal combat - don't
worry about any of the fancy combo moves; at that
speed, there's just no time to think of them. but if
you just move your fingers fast around all the buttons
(strings,) you'll eventually hit the right ones in the
right sequence, and totally kick ass, on roughly the
IQ power of a steamed vegetable.

and that is your video-game nerd allegory for the day.
and you nerds all just had an orgasm, didn't you?

yeah. me too.


welfareloser
"If the banjo was any good, The Beatles would have used it." - Bill McEuen
http://www.welfareloser.com

okay, seriously? BEST. CANDY. EVER.

impossible to find even in the few states where it is distributed... and now available by the case online.

http://www.vermontcountrystore.com/shopping/product/detailmain.jsp?itemID=5647&itemType=PRODUCT&iMainCat=38&iSubCat=411&iProductID=5647&searchid=inceptor

two cases on the way. and i don't plan to share.